5
“Sorry to bother you,” Megan said as Jake opened the door, “but I stopped by the barn to see the horses, and Bug seems…off. It’s probably nothing, but I just thought I should let you know.”
“How so?” he asked as he fell into step beside her. Something about him seemed off too. He looked stiff, flushed and breathless like he’d just come in from a long ride…or something.
“She just seemed restless, like she was in pain or not feeling well, and she wasn’t eating her hay.”
Jake frowned. “Could be colic.”
“Is that serious?”
“It can be.” He glanced over, and Megan’s expression must have reflected the knot of worry lodged in her gut, because he added, “but it’s usually not, especially if you catch it early.”
He led the way into the barn, stopping at Bug’s door. She stood motionless in the middle of her stall, much like the way she’d looked when Megan first saw her a few minutes ago. As they watched, she shifted her hooves and swung her head toward her belly.
“She’s probably fine,” Jake said, “but I’m going to check her out to be safe. What’s the process for calling the vet with a foster animal?”
“Well, ideally they like you to call and clear any expenses ahead of time, so they can send you a pre-authorized form to give the vet for payment, but in an emergency, we can treat first and ask later.”
“Okay.” He walked to the room at the end of the hall where he kept his supplies, returning with what looked like a small, plastic toolbox. “I’m going to take her vitals and listen to her gut, and we’ll take it from there. Will you hold her for me while I examine her?”
“Yeah, of course.” She followed him into Bug’s stall, accepting the lead line after he’d fastened Bug’s halter.
“Hey there, girl. How’re you feeling?” He spoke to Bug in a low, soothing voice as he took out a stethoscope. He stood beside her, talking and stroking her until Bug’s stance softened. Still talking gently to her, he bent and pressed the stethoscope against her belly just behind her front legs, checking his watch as he took her pulse. He then placed the stethoscope against her flank near her hind legs, moving it around periodically as he listened through the earpiece. Bug tossed her head.
Jake spent the next ten minutes or so examining her, and Megan felt less silly about calling him down to the barn the longer he spent with Bug, because if she wasn’t mistaken, he looked worried now too.
“Her pulse is slightly elevated, and I’m not hearing much going on in her gut. Looks like colic to me,” he said at length as he put away the stethoscope and removed Bug’s halter. “I’m going to put a call in to my vet and see what he recommends. I imagine he’ll want to come out and see her, given her recent medical history. Do you mind calling the humane society and letting them know what’s going on?”
“I’ll call right now.” She spent the next few minutes on the phone while Jake talked to his vet. The humane society volunteer she spoke to told her to go ahead and do anything that needed to be done, but to call back before taking any drastic—or drastically expensive—measures.
“He’s on his way now,” Jake said when he hung up. “You did really well to spot this so early. Colic isn’t always easy to see, especially to someone without training. I wasn’t planning to come back down to the barn for a few hours, and by then she could have gotten much worse.”
Megan felt oddly proud at the compliment. “What is colic, exactly?”
“A stomachache, more or less. Could be a pocket of gas in her gut or a blockage. She’s had some major changes to her diet since she was rescued, and I’ve been keeping a close eye on her and Dusty for just that reason. There isn’t any manure in her stall, although that isn’t necessarily a bad sign because she’s only been in it for a couple of hours. She could have gone outside earlier.”
The next hour was a blur of activity as the vet arrived and examined Bug. He gave her some pain medication and mineral oil to help soften up whatever might be inside her but didn’t seem to think she was in any immediate danger. He left them with very specific instructions for care and monitoring her over the next twelve hours and a promise to be back first thing in the morning to reexamine her.
“Not the first night I’ve spent in the barn with a colicky horse and won’t be the last either,” Jake said as they led Bug out of the barn for a slow walk around the grounds to see if that would help stimulate some movement in her gut.
“I’d be happy to stay with her,” Megan offered, feeling somewhat helpless over the situation and guilty for bringing in sickly horses that were causing so much extra work for Jake, not to mention worry for Bug herself. Megan had spent a lot of time in the barn and out in the pasture with her in the week and a half since she’d arrived.
“I don’t mind,” Jake said. “We could really get away with coming down to check on her every hour, but with her history, I’d like to keep a closer eye on her, just to be safe. I’ll bring my laptop down and work most of the night, probably. I’ve done it many times.”
“What part of your work can be done on a laptop?” she asked as they walked down the path that led behind the pastures alongside the edge of the forest.
Jake glanced over at her, something guarded in his expression.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” she added, turning her gaze to Bug, who loped along between them, head down and looking fairly apathetic about this turn of events.
“You didn’t. I brought it up. It’s just not something I share with many people, but I supplement my income from horse training as an author.”
Megan felt herself grinning like a fool. “An author? That’s so cool. What kind of books do you write? Are you secretly famous?”
He was already shaking his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Not famous. You’ve probably never heard of me. I write mysteries as Jake Tappen. It was my father’s last name.”
“Hmm.” The name didn’t sound familiar, but she couldn’t wait to look him up as soon as she was back at the castle. “You’re full of surprises.”
