Conflicted (Everlasting Love)(51)

The house was quiet as she let herself out the front door—she had heard the caterers leave over an hour earlier and had listened as Jesse climbed the stairs and headed to his room down the hall. She’d wanted to go to him, had wanted to crawl into bed next to him and ask him to hold her, but her pride wouldn’t allow it.

As she neared the maternity stable, she heard the high-pitched screams of a horse in pain. M.C. was in labor and no one had alerted her. She started to run, hitting the stable at full speed.

“I thought I told you to call me,” she said as soon as she entered the stable, expecting to find her stable manager with the frightened mare.

But it was Jesse’s voice that answered her, Jesse her eyes found as she searched the dim stable. “I figured you could use the sleep. I can handle this.”

“I know you can,” she answered softly as she approached the laboring horse. “But I wanted to be here.”

His eyes met hers in the semidarkness, concern gleaming in their ebony depths. “Then have a seat. It’s going to be a long few hours.”

Desiree settled into the straw next to M.C. and reached a hand out to stroke her shuddering stomach. Her breaths were coming in pants, and contractions strained her body almost continuously. “Is she all right?”

“She’s in a lot of pain and the foal isn’t in any hurry to drop. But I’ve checked and it’s positioned correctly—not breech or anything.”

Desiree sighed in relief. “Thank God. I know you can handle just about anything, but I’m glad we don’t have to deal with that tonight on top of everything else.”

Jesse’s startled eyes met hers, and she wondered what she’d said that could have surprised him. Then she realized—she had shocked him with her faith in him. Had she praised him so rarely in recent years? Did he really not know how much respect she had for him and his abilities?

“What can I do?” Her voice was subdued when she spoke.

“Just talk to her, pet her. I need to check her again and she hates it.”

Desiree leaned down, pressed her cheek to the top of M.C.’s head as she crooned to her in the language and the words she’d heard Jesse use so often. She could tell the minute Jesse had started to examine the horse because she tensed, her shaking getting much worse.

Desiree grimaced before she could stop herself. Labor was hard on any horse, but it was especially bad for the high-strung and coddled Thoroughbreds, who were so unused to painful disruptions in their daily lives. “What a good girl you are, M.C.,” she crooned. “Your baby’s going to be so beautiful. All long legs and curiosity. He’ll be a champion, just like you, girl. Just like you.”

She was conscious of Jesse’s eyes on her and the frown that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his face. There had been so many days—years really—when he’d never looked at her with anything but a smile that this new countenance was hard to take.

She didn’t know how long they sat there, with Jesse murmuring to M.C. in Cherokee while Desiree continued to pet and sooth her. But suddenly Jesse’s crooning stopped and he said grimly, “Okay, this is it.”

Desiree moved to her knees, taking M.C.’s head in her hand as she did. “All right, girl. Let’s show him how it’s done.”

The mare’s whinny was high-pitched and painful to hear. Her body shuddered again and again as she struggled to bring forth new life. Jesse continued to work, using his strong arms to help M.C. guide her foal into the world.

As the horse continued to shake, her body convulsing, Desiree closed her eyes and prayed. “Should it be taking this long?” she asked Jesse hoarsely.

“Some take longer than others,” he said. “But she’s looking good. God willing, they’ll both be fine.”

Suddenly M.C. gave a great push—Desiree could feel her body straining right along with the horse’s—and Jesse shouted jubilantly. “Here he comes!”

Within minutes it was done, and Desiree watched the new colt struggle to his feet with tears in her eyes. He wobbled to his mother on unsteady legs, and M.C. nuzzled him, wrapping her body around him as she began to clean him.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered, watching the new mother and her baby.

“Isn’t he, though?” Jesse was at the big sink, washing up. “But I wouldn’t expect anything less with his pedigree.”

“No kidding. Talk about a champion in training.”

Jesse turned to her as he dried his arms and hands. “Are you ready to head up to the house? Give Mama and her baby a little privacy?” His voice was stilted, and she could tell that it had taken a lot for him to extend such an olive branch.

“Absolutely,” she answered, laying a soft hand on his back. “Just let me run by my office and get a folder I want to work on in the morning.”

“All right.”

She was conscious of Jesse’s eyes on her as she jogged to her office. She was moving as quickly as she could without flat-out running, afraid that if she didn’t hustle Jesse would get tired of waiting and head home without her. And she didn’t want this fragile peace between them to end, couldn’t bear for him to go back to looking at her with contempt.

Grabbing the file, Desiree started to head to the maternity barn but stopped when she saw Jesse leaning against a tree, a few feet away from where she stood. Tears sprang to her eyes and she impatiently wiped them away. She’d cried more in the past day than she had in the past thirty years, and she was beginning to feel as though she’d sprung a leak.