Anne Barbour by Lord Glenravens Return

now, the leg could break.”
    Jem ceased his exertions, and the next moment Jenny’s muscles tightened around his arms in an incredibly powerful grip that made him gasp in pained astonishment. The contraction seemed to go on forever, and Jem thought his bones must be cracking, but at last the mare relaxed. He discovered to his dismay, that the spasm had sent the foal’s head down again so that it pressed against the leg that was properly positioned.
    Concerned that another such contraction would expel the head from the birth canal completely, tearing the badly positioned foreleg as it did so, he moved the head back as hastily as he could. With numbed fingers, he straightened the bent leg and slowly pulled it into position. At once, he began easing the hoofed feet toward the cervix. God, they were like twigs that could be snapped with a single, wrong move. Gently, he repositioned the foal’s head so that it rested between the forelegs.
    After another endless period of achingly slow shifting, accompanied by Jenny’s wild neighs of distress, Jem was able to draw the forelegs out of the mare’s body. Claudia uttered a small sob of relief, and Jem cast her a look of mutual pleasure.
    The foal’s nose appeared, then, and Jenny quieted dramatically. Jonah left her head for a moment and, with a cloth he’d kept ready to hand, he wiped the colt’s nose free of mucus. He held his palm against the quivering nostrils, nodding to Claudia to indicate that the colt was breathing normally. Jenny’s body stiffened into one more contraction, and the rest of the angular little form slid into the straw almost at once. Claudia drew a long, shuddering breath of her own.
    Oh, you little miracle! were the words that hummed in her brain as Jonah leaned back against the wall of the stall and said with a tired sigh, “Ye’ve got a new stallion, Miz Carstairs.” She watched as Jenny, in a last, convulsive thrust, expelled the afterbirth and then struggled to her feet. The mare was still uneasy, but the wildness had left her eyes. The colt, too, in what appeared to be an impossible feat, rose to stand, wavering on straw-like legs, and freed himself from the still-throbbing cord that had been his lifeline for eleven long months. He was the color of night, and as he made his unsteady way to his mother’s side, he reminded Claudia of a wobbling pool of spilled ink.
    “Look,” she said with a gurgle of laughter, as the colt made it his first order of business to acquire a bit of dinner. Despite Jenny’s unmaternal efforts to avoid the eager little mouth that searched her underside, he soon found what he was looking for, and in another moment, the stable was filled with sounds of his greedy suckling.
    The three impromptu midwives laughed together in a mutual venting of happy relief.
    “I’m glad ye showed up, me lo—lad.” It appeared that Jonah’s wide grin would crack his seamed face. “We woulda been hard put to manage on our own.”
    Claudia, her face alight, whirled to stretch out both hands to Jem before recalling herself. “Oh—yes—er, January,” she said in what she hoped was a tone of great propriety. “I must thank you for volunteering your help.” She found herself unable to suppress the smile that rose to her lips. “Tonight, you have gone far beyond what is expected of the average butler.”
    Jem knew an urge to cup that bright face in his hands and press his lips against her curving smile. Instead, he bowed.
    “I believe the first line of the butler’s code is an admonition to offer one’s services wherever and in whatever capacity necessary,” he said gravely, massaging his aching arms, and Claudia found herself nearly undone by the compelling twinkle in his eye.
    “So what’re ye goin’ t’ call the little feller?” asked Jonah.
    “Oh. I hadn’t thought. Let’s see, he’s the first colt born of Jenny and Warlock. Perhaps we could call him Number One. No,” she decided with a shake of her head.