Back in the Saddle (Diamond Firetail Farm)

Epilogue

Two weeks later

Ciaron

I was sitting in my office, concentrating on my computer screen, when the two-way crackled.

“Are you on channel, Ciaron?” Rachel asked.

I grabbed the two-way off my desk. “Sure am.”

“Mermaid is in labour.”

“Coming.”

I jumped out of my chair and jogged to the inner office. I didn’t have long. Mares were not like humans; their labour lasts for around an hour. Some could be as quick as fifteen minutes. Taylor charged out of her office and crashed into me.

I shook my head at her. “She’s mine. The deal was I got to help deliver the first foal.”

She matched me step by step as I made my way to the ute. “You could at least let me watch.”

I hopped into the ute and she did the same.

“I don’t know,” I said. “What do I get for sharing?”

“How about I let you live to see the next one?”

I chuckled as I started the ute and headed towards the foaling unit. “I was thinking something rewarding for the both of us.”

“Mmm. OK. I can see how that would be your preference.”

I rounded the corner to the foaling unit. “You better decide quick.” I jerked the car to a stop and, in one fluid motion, turned it off and opened the door. I swung out of my seat.

“Shower sex,” she practically yelled as my feet hit the ground. She opened her door before I even responded.

“Deal.”

We jogged beside each other to the yard, not saying another word. We didn’t want to disturb Mermaid or Rachel. The ground was wet next to where Mermaid was lying, where her water had broken. I made my way through the gate. Taylor closed it behind me. We didn’t really need to be there for the birth, but the first birth was something to celebrate. Every birth was something to celebrate, and we had three months of births to look forward to.

Mermaid lay flat on the ground. Her stomach tensing and relaxing. The sack emerged, pushed out by two tiny feet that came next. Rachel was behind Mermaid. She grinned up at me as she reached for the bag and broke it with her fingers. Liquid gushed out. She took hold of the foal's legs and hung on. With every push, Rachel pulled and more of the foal’s legs appeared and then a nose. When the mare rested, Rachel hung onto the legs, so the foal wasn’t sucked back in. One last push and pull, and the foal flopped down onto the ground.

A perfect, wet, brown foal lay beside Mermaid. I glanced down at the foal slippers covering the hoof—soft rubbery tissue that looks like feathers or even tentacles. These little slippers protected the uterus and birth canal during pregnancy and foaling. Once exposed to the air, they start to dry and harden. And when the foal stands it wears/falls off quickly. To this day, even after more than twenty years of breeding, horses never ceased to amaze me.

I approached them and pulled the wet, slimy bag off the foal’s head. Then I stripped the goop out of its nose. I helped it sit up on its chest. The foal’s legs balanced it and the liquid I didn’t get out dripped from its nose.

Rachel used the towel she had with her to clean the foal and stimulate its circulation. Mermaid stood and began licking it.

Taylor came and stood beside me, and I held her hand. New life was a miracle, a sign of better things to come. We waited. Rachel pulled the bag away from Mermaid and her foal and placed the ripped sides together to check that the complete bag had come out and the mare hadn’t retained any. The jagged edges lined up.

The foal gathered its legs beneath itself. I held my breath as it wobbled its way to a standing position. It tried to take a step and fell over. I chuckled. We waited for it to try again. It did, and this time it remained standing. Then it made its way to Mermaid and started suckling on her leg. I chuckled. Foals are so dumb. Mermaid guided the foal to her teats, and it started suckling.

The three of us smiled.

New life. New hope.

Four months later

Taylor

Ciaron and I were mending a fence down by the river. Mermaid’s foal had wandered down to see what we were doing. She was a funny little filly, always wanting to be involved in everything.

Thunder rumbled above us. The weather reports said to expect rain, but I didn’t believe anything the weather reporters said any more. They’d been leading us on like a mare in season for months. Ciaron glanced up at the sky, then returned to tensioning the wire.

The wind had picked up, gusty at times, carrying dust from the bare ground with it. How there was any topsoil left after two years of drought was beyond me. I turned my back to the wind to protect my eyes. The leaves in the trees rustled. The foal ran back to Mermaid.

The horses were at the top of the paddock eating hay out of the hay feeders. They obviously didn’t believe the thunder. It rumbled louder. A drop of rain hit my cheek. I stopped what I was doing and stood up straight, staring at the sky. More drops fell. Ciaron stood beside me and stared up.

Could this be it? The break in the drought?

Pounding sounded in the distance. The sky there was black but closer to the ground, grey as rain poured. It was loud, like a stampede of horses through a gully. It came closer. My stomach lifted. Just this rainstorm alone was more rain than we’d seen in years.

One rainstorm didn’t mean the drought was over, but it would fill our tanks and turn the paddocks to mud, and then…then grass would start to grow again. We needed more, but this was the start.

Ciaron took my hand. Most people would run for shelter as the wind whipped at their hair and clothes. But not us. Not farmers who have been watching clouds appear and disappear for years. The drops hit us with more frequency as the rain approached. Then it was like we were standing in a shower. It fell straight down, not driven by wind.

Puddles formed around our feet. I gazed at the horses in the paddock. They turned their bums in the direction the rain was coming.

Ciaron wrapped his arms around my waist and spun me around. Tears mixed with the beautiful, fresh water ran down my cheeks. My feet hit the ground at the same time his lips crashed into mine. I held onto him as our lips moved and our tongues met stroke for stroke.

I couldn’t imagine celebrating this with anyone but my best friend, the man I loved with all of my heart. The man who loved me with all of his.

Thank you for reading Back in the Saddle. Would you like to share Taylor and Ciaron’s first three days together in Ireland? Click here to see where their love story began.