“Four years.From people who did not do their research.Then, because of their ignorance, she was supposed to pay that price with her life.”
“So, instead, you rescued her and brought her home to her castle.Because she is a princess.”
“Si.Her castle.”He took a gingerly sip of his soup, blowing on the spoon.
“Well, I think Princess Portia is one very lucky little pig.She rules the roost, but doesn’t seem to let the power go to her headtoomuch.”
He snorted again.“Give her time.I’m the lucky one though.She is my … emotional support pig, I guess you could say.”
That made me smile.I took a small spoonful of the soup and moaned in delight at how deliciously herbaceous and blatantly Italian it tasted.
“You like?”
“This isverygood.What is it called?”
“Vegetarian Italian Wedding Soup.Instead of meatballs, I use chickpeas.”
“Well, it’s very good.Warming me right up.”I went in for another bite, hyper-aware of him watching me eat.I could see the smile of amusement growing on his mouth from the corner of my eye, but did everything I could to ignore it because otherwise, I might do something stupid like spill soup on my lap, or choke on a chickpea.
“The paninis are vegetarian too.Mushroom, provolone, and pesto.”
“Yes, please.”
His raspy chuckle suddenly made the soup no longer necessary.I was more than warm enough.He opened up the folded-over tea towel and held it up for me to grab a triangle.
“Is it an insult in Italian or something to dip my sandwich in my soup?Will I be offending Leonardo di Vinci or something?”
His body jostled in amusement, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled had those pesky butterflies dancing among the soup in my belly.“No.Dip away.Leonardo will get over it.”
Grinning, I dipped the corner of the panini into the soup and brought it to my mouth, moaning again from all the wonderful flavors.
“Did you make the bread too?”
He was chewing his own panini and nodded, giving me a look like, how dare I ask such a silly question.“But, of course.”
But, of course.
A noise from inside the stall with Angel and Midnight pulled our attention.We set down our bowls on the cot and nearly collided shoulders as we tried to enter the stall at the same time.
He stopped and let me go first, my brain ready for my body to stop working and just let me die from embarrassment.
Angel was asleep, her breathing slow and slightly ragged, but it was little Mr.Midnight that was trying to stand up.With his knees bent, and his chest off the ground, he did his very best to try to get to his hooves.But he was still too weak and wobbled before he could get his hind legs up and behind him.
Tom dropped to his knees on the ground and helped Midnight a little, quietly encouraging him with a hand at his butt to support him.
Midnight tried a few more times, but grew too tired of the effort.I went to the cooler bag and grabbed another bottle.It was still a little warm.
“He might be hungry again.”
I went to hand it to Tom, but he shook his head.“You should feed him.You are the reason he has food.”Tilting his head to the side, he encouraged me to sit down beside him.Then he scooped up a hungry little Midnight and plunked the foal in my lap.He already knew the sign of food and started waggling his lips, chasing the nipple until I brought it to his mouth where he greedily guzzled.
“There is more milk—frozen—in the back of my RAV,” I said.“I almost forgot.Do you have somewhere to put it?”
“Si.”Grunting, he pried himself off the floor and left the stall, leaving me there with a wide-eyed Midnight blinking up at me with his long lashes as he filled his little belly.
With my free hand, I stroked the little star-shaped white patch on his forehead.“Oh, sweet baby,” I whispered.“This isn’t fair at all.Your poor mama.And you.But you’re safe now.You’re safe, and Tom is going to take very good care of you.”
While I wasn’t entirely sure of the standard protocol when it came to mares and foals, if they were anything like other animals, something told me the mares licked the foals clean after they were born.Angel had been too weak to do that, but it seemed that either Tom or Justine had wiped the little guy down because he was mostly dry now, and so soft.
