Then John changed everything. “I’ll do it. Gus and I took care of newborns one summer at Hadsby. The gardener’s dog birthed her whelps in one of the mews’ stalls.”
“John, no, you’re on holiday. I’m sure I can get on the phone and find folks to help.”
“What sort of prince would I be if I left my friend and her new charges to flounder when I’ve nowhere to be and nothing to do.” John picked up the box. “Worry not, loves, I’ll take care of you. Shall we?” He stepped off the porch and paused by Gemma. “The sooner we get them settled and fed the better.”
“Look there, you got an expert,” Doc said. “I’ll carry the heat lamp. Gemma, you get the formula.”
Imani and Penny returned, jumping from the car, curious as to the contents in the box, squealing to see the puppies. Well that was it. Gemma would never rid herself of this chore now.
They were very sweet and so helpless, but she had a job. Not to mention, very limited funds.
Since there was no use fighting it, Gemma launched into director mode—her endgame in Hollywood was to direct. Act for fifteen or twenty years all the while slowly move behind the camera.
“Imani, Penny,” she said. “Help Doc and carry the formula while John and I set up one of the stalls.”
The commotion alerted the rest of the dogs and they charged out of the house. When the screen door didn’t close all the way, Barksy knew how to push it open.
“Last stall on the left, Prince.” The other three belonged to Herc, Whinny, and Silver, even though they lived outside most of the time.
She went to the loft for hay and the old quilts folded in the corner. She’d just decided to get rid of them last week but now they were perfect for her new rescues.
When the puppy bed had been made and lined with the soft, worn cotton of the quilts, Doc clapped John on the shoulder.
“I’ll leave it to you, Your Highness. Much obliged. Feed them and keep them warm,” Doc said as he exited the barn. “That’s all you got to do. Oh, and wash their privates to get that business going. And weigh them every day. Make sure they’re gaining weight. You got a scale? Yeah, you do, I see it. I’ll check on you in a couple of days. Call if you need me.”
With that, everyone got to work. Positioning the heat lamp, making the formula, keeping the puppies warm.
Blue and Tweedy insisted on inspecting the babies, but Gemma had Imani take all of the dogs back to the house. They were sweet, but three had been fighters. Best to introduce new dogs gradually. Now Tweedy, being a collie, an old collie but still a collie, might step up as a surrogate mama.
Sitting against the wall, she and John cradled the puppies until Imani and Penny arrived with the bottles. Then the little beggars slurped and drank, pushing their wee paws against the bottles and the hands that fed them.
Then, miraculously, they slept.
“Let’s cuddle them in the center of the bed,” John said. “They can keep each other warm, but we’ll need to stay with them.”
When the puppies were settled, the girls excused themselves to their movie.
“Now what?” Gemma said, lying on her side, her hand over three of the little guys. “Are you sure you want to do this, Prince?”
“I don’t have to be anywhere.” His voice was gentle and the light in his eyes sincere. “We’ll need to feed them in a few hours. Let’s talk about a schedule.”
Gemma got up for the doc’s printout and found her old carpenter’s pencil on the workbench.
“What time do you have to be at work?” he said.
“It’s flexible but I like to be there by nine. Wednesday I have to be at the wedding chapel at eight for a photo shoot.”
The prince looked at his watch. “It’s almost midnight now. Let’s set up a three-hour feeding schedule. Midnight, three, six, nine, noon, three, six, nine, midnight.”
“We can take shifts. Between you, me and Imani, and maybe Penny, we can care for six newborns, right?”
Whinny peered around the open stall, raised her nose, and pawed the stone floor once.
“We’ll take care of them, Whinny,” Gemma said. “Don’t worry.”
With a short snicker, the thoroughbred left the barn, and Gemma heard her hoofs striking the summer ground as she galloped away.
“Remind me of that moment when I’m cranky and tired.” Gemma returned the pencil and schedule to the worktable, then went back to the puppy bed.
