Where the Four Winds Meet, a Humorous Western Super Romance - Page 39

She prepared the needle and looked up to the group of stunned cowboys, her eyes resting on Hiram.

"You look the strongest of the batch.  I'll need you on the front of the rope, Hiram.  You'll have to be deft, yet gentle."

He didn't move, just looked undecidedly from her to Leif.  She relaxed as Leif  spat out impatiently, "Well, you heard her!  Get to moving, Hiram!"

"Yes boss!" Hiram echoed, springing into action and joining Farrell on the ground. "Okay ma'am, what do you need me to do?" he asked her, taking up one end of the rope that English tossed to him.

"See here, Nighthorse!  I shall not be responsible for this-this feather-headed girl's intervention!  She is going to kill that horse-"

"And get him out of here," Farrell told Leif, not pausing to look up at him. "He's upsetting the mare with his talk and his smoke."

If she would not have been so wrapped up in her concern for the foaling mare, she would have felt the raw, disputing tension emit from Heinman's bellowing form.

Leif must have relented to her request for everything went suddenly silent.

The men gazed on, their breaths ceasing as she softly enchanted the mare and easily found a hoof inside her belly.  With unpracticed expertise, she secured the rope around it and set the men into action.

Ten minutes later, the dead colt had been removed.  The mare was almost lifeless now, her energy spent - but Farrell refused to allow her to surrender to the darkness and kept offering words of encouragement.

Leif had knelt beside the dead colt and she heard him ease off a tight curse.  "A male at that."

One of the cowboys on the sidelines commented, "Shame boss. Lots of cash down the drain there.  Sorry."

Leif nodded at him, a lump in his throat.  It wasn't about money.

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