Small Miracles
As soon as Huxley had noticed that Bill was only making one serving of eggs, spam and toast, he’d suggested Bill throw in more toast and eggs and eat with him.
“Only seems polite,” he’d insisted.
“Polite.” Bill squinted at him. “That sounds like you.”
“Make more eggs,” Huxley had ordered, and Bill smirked triumphantly, because yeah. That was more like his Huxley.
Not that Huxley was his.
Damn. He had to be careful there.
They had eaten and were sitting at the table watching the crow poke at the boiled egg to get at the yolk when Huxley’s cell jangled.
“Shit.” He dug the phone from his pocket to answer it. “Hey dad.”
For a second, he listened, and as he did, Bill watched his face fall. “Okay. Dad. Dad. I’ll be right there. Don’t panic. I’m sure she’ll be—shit.” He glanced up at Bill. “No, no, don’t do that. Don’t call Susan. Bill’s right here. I’ll bring him. Sit tight.” He hung up and focused so intently on him, it was impossible for Bill to look away.
“What do you need?”
“Dad’s horse went into labour this afternoon. She’s struggling with the first foal.”
“First? She’s carrying twins?”
Huxley nodded. “And Dad thinks the first one is breech.”
Bill nodded. “I’ll head over to the barn. Get that bird settled and follow.” He stood up. “Be quick, though.”
“Not the boss of me,” Huxley muttered, getting to his feet.
The muggy heat of the barn hit Bill full in the face as he entered. It wasn’t exactly cold outside, but it was early June, and with the sun lowered beyond the rim of the hills, not really warm, either. The contrast was startling, but welcome.
The horse grunting and whickering softly lead him through the vaulted space to the large stall where he found her, clearly in distress. The scent of hay was almost buried under less pleasant birthing smells.
Huxley’s father, Armand, hovered near the stall door, possibly in more distress than his horse.
“Armand.” Bill patted his shoulder. “Take a breath and tell me what’s happening.”
“Bill. Thank you!”
“Let’s get a handle on things, yeah?”
“Where’s Hux?”
“On his way. Talk to me.”
Bill quickly confirmed Armand’s worry that his horse’s birth might be breech. “I didn’t realize she was in labour so soon. I should have been paying better attention.”
“It’s okay. We can help her. Where can I wash up?”
By the time he was back from washing, Huxley and Wembley had both appeared, and five minutes later, Leland and Danny arrived as well. Apparently, Leland had stopped to visit his new friend after driving Danny back to the farm, which was a blessing, since he was already used to doing what Bill told him without question.
Leland and Danny both took orders like champs, fetching water and equipment under Huxley’s direction, since he was still limping slightly. Between Bill and Wembley, the foal was eventually persuaded out of the birth canal, and into the warmth of the barn and his mother’s care.
The second foal, thankfully, was the right way around, and the humans standing nervously by, watching, could only wait and see what the outcome would be.
“You know this may not end well,” Bill said to Armand.
“Have faith.”
Bill had faith, but he also had experience, and twin foals, in most cases, ended in heartbreak.
Apparently, Grace was going to live up to her name, because she delivered foal number two with no input from her human audience.
Bill had barely entered the stall to check on the new arrival when it gulped in it’s first breath.
“Well no shit,” he whispered. “Well done, Mama. Well done.” He spent only as much time in the stall with the animals as was necessary to ensure they were all doing what they should be, then he backed out.
After the first messy, sweaty, exhausting delivery, the ease of the second one made him wary. Several minutes passed as they watched, though, and all three horses acted as if this once-in-a-lifetime miracle was nothing to get excited about.
Finally, with both foals safely delivered and seemingly healthy, Bill sent Wembley and Danny back to the house, and Leland to the clinic to fetch the donor colostrum Armand had arranged with Susan to be stored there for the birth.
Given the much-needed privacy, the mare soon delivered both placentas and after another few moments, got to her feet.
“Well that’s a relief,” Huxley breathed.
“You have a textbook animal right there, Armand,” Bill agreed. “Keep an eye on her for me I while go in and examine the placentas. Make sure everything’s intact.”
Give the rarity of twins in horses, the even rarer chance they were carried to term, born alive and healthy, he was amazed that even this stage went perfectly.
“It’s all there,” he announced after a close inspection.
Armand nodded. “She was my Martha’s baby,” he said softly, stroking the horse’s flank. “I expect Marty’s been watching over her and her babies. Making sure it all worked out as it should.”
“I expect so. Let’s hope she keeps on doing that. We have a few more hurdles to get over.”
“Aye. Lungs, liver, joints. Susan went over all the pain points. We’ll take things slow.”
“And you,” Bill turned to Huxley. “You need to go look in on our other patient. He’s been alone long enough.”
“Shit. Right. Of course.” He glanced at his father, grey-faced where he leaned on a post at the door of the stall.
“I’ll get him to go up to the house,” Bill assured him. “You really do have to go check on that bird.”
Huxley nodded. “Thanks. I’ll walk by that way and see if Janet can fix you something.”
“I’m fine.”
“Coffee.” Huxley tilted his head. “Nip of whiskey to spice it up.”
Bill sighed. That was a tough offer to turn down. “Just a nip, though. I have to stay alert. Make sure these fellas both get up and feed from mama. And be ready with their supplemental feed when Leland gets back.”
“Sounds good. Dad.” He turned to his father. “I’m heading out. You should come up to the house. Get some rest. Bill will stay with the animals.”
“I—Bill.” Armand turned to him. “Thank you son, but?—”
“Please let me help,” Bill said, speaking and moving quietly, as if Armand was the skittish animal. “You go on, Hux. I got this.”
Huxley nodded again and left them.
Armand cleared his throat and turned back to his mare. “Probably already racked up more of a bill than I can pay in one go, young man.”
“I’ll talk to Susan. See what we can do about that. Meantime, this is me, Bill your friend, offering to let you go get some rest while I stand vigil for a time.”
“Using your expert veterinarian skills.”
“You saying if I came by as a family friend for dinner, you’d charge me for the plate because that’s part of what you do for a living?”
“’Course not. Don’t be daft.”
“So. Let a friend help you out.”
Armand sighed. “Just because you were visiting my son does not mean you vet for free around here.”
“No. It doesn’t. But I have a few ideas about how we can barter, especially with you agreeing to us using your land for a wildlife refuge.”
“One crow makes a refuge now does it?”
“In this case. That crow would not make it through a night in my house, what with the cats I’m fostering, let alone in the wild. If he can’t fly, he can’t evade predators. Like it or not, he’ll depend on the kindness of humans from now on. With his wing broken like it is, there were only two ways that was going to go.”
“And knowing our Huxley, the obvious, expedient solution was off the table.”
Bill patted Armand’s back. “Says the man who didn’t terminate his mare’s twin pregnancy.”
Armand nodded, much like Huxley often did. “Touché.”
A rustle from the stall caught their attention and they both watch in silence as the first-born foal at last struggled until it got wobbling legs under it.
In the end, Bill had to walk Armand up to the house to ensure the man got some rest. It had been an emotionally exhausting experience for him, and he needed some sleep.
Bill accepted the thermos of coffee and plastic tub of snacks Janet had ready for him at the door. She exchanged the sustenance for custody of her father.
“We can’t thank you enough Bill,” she said.
“Don’t thank me. Thank that amazing horse, and your father for his exceptional care of her. I did next to nothing. Seeing two healthy foals and their recovering mother is all the thanks I need. This sort of thing doesn’t happen every day.”
She smiled at him. “Still, thank you. And thanks for seeing Dad up here. He would never have come on his own.”
“Stubborn might run in your family,” Bill pointed out. He didn’t miss Janet’s quick glance in the direction of Huxley’s trailer. “It might.” But her smile widened. “It’s good to see you here. I’m glad you and Hux reconnected.”
“We’ll see,” was all Bill could say about that.
“If you need anything, just call up to the house, okay? One of us will run it down to you.” She handed him a quilted flannel jacket, a blanket, and large bottle of water to go with the coffee and snacks.
“Thanks, Jan. I’ll be in touch in the next couple of days to talk about some bartering. There’s a bare wall at the clinic I’d like you to take a look at.”
Her smile was radiant. “I would love that! Thank you!”
He left her on the porch while he trudged back to the barn to watch over the horses and await Leland’s return with the much-needed colostrum for the foals.
“Thought Huxley would be here to help you out,” Leland said as they eased the small bins of frozen liquid into bowls of boiled water.
“He has a patient of his own needs watching over.”
“The crow. So that’s going ahead, then?”
“Seems so.”
“Good. I’m glad we’re getting another partner. I hate having to send all the chronics away.”
“We send each animal to those who can care for them the best.”
“No, I know that.”
“But I do agree. I like the idea of having a place close by for some of our patients.” He poked at the plastic bin floating in its warm bath. “So long as the testing goes well, that is.”
“Testing?”
“Government hoops.”
“But an actual test? Like school?”
“I’m sure it will be fine.”
“But maybe it won’t?”
“It will. I’ll make sure.”
“I’ll help, you know.”
Bill grinned at him. “I know you will.”
“Weird, though.” Leland mused after a few minutes. “Here I am in the middle of the night feeding a stranger’s baby horses, and just a little while ago, I thought I was alone in the world.”
“This town is funny that way. Always has been.”
“That why you came back?”
“I grew up here. My family’s here.”
“You close to them?”
“Not like Matthew.”
“Nobody’s family is like Matthew’s,” Leland agreed.
“I think I spent more time here than with my family. Jan and Wembley were like my own brother and sister growing up.”
“Not Huxley, though.”
“Best friends all the way.”
“Until you left.”
Bill sighed. “Until I left.”
“Think mine’s thawed,” Leland said, thankfully changing the subject. “What now?”
Bill was grateful to find foal number two up and suckling when they peeked into the stall. He expected the baleful glance Grace gave them as they approached, but she gentled quickly when she understood they were there to help.
“This is amazing, Leland whispered as foal number one jostled him to get the last dregs from the bottle he held. “I have the fucking best job ever.”
Bill stood by the mare’s head, soothing her with soft words and caresses as Leland stood close, keeping her baby in contact with her side as he fed it the nutritious, antibody-rich supplement.
“I can’t regret leaving,” Bill said, almost to himself.
“No,” Leland agreed, attention focused carefully on the tiny foal. “How would you have become a vet otherwise? And you’re here now. So, there’s that.”
“Is it enough though?”
Leland didn’t answer because what would he have said?
Only more time would tell if being back and willing to try to mend fences was going to be enough to get Huxley to forgive him running in the first place.
And if he did forgive Bill, what then? What, exactly, did Bill want from Huxley?
Even as he had that thought, Leland’s phone buzzed and when he looked at the screen, his face lit up.
“It’s Matthew.” His grin, ear to ear, tightened something in Bill’s chest. Who was he kidding. That’s exactly what he wanted. For someone—okay, for Huxley—to light up like that when Bill called.
“Go take it. Tell him I said hi.”
Leland managed to leave the stall without disturbing the animals too much, and his voice, when he answered his boyfriend’s call, faded as he headed for the door.
A few minutes later, when Leland returned form his call, Bill sent him home. He had one of the foals left to hand feed, and since any further examination after that could—and should—wait until morning, after the animals had a chance to rest, he didn’t see the point of them both sitting vigil.
“They need their rest.”
“What about you?”
“I’m good. You have work tomorrow. I don’t.”
“Point.”
“You’ve been a star, Leland.”
He grinned. “What can I say? I love my job.”
“Sitting vigil in a barn doesn’t exactly fall under the office admin job title.”
Leland paused in the act of fishing his keys out of his pocket. “Matthew’s been suggesting I go the vet tech route. I might do that.”
“Hate to lose a fantastic admin, but you would make an amazing vet tech.”
“Oh, I won’t stop doing what I do. At least not until we have someone who can take my place. I can do both. Or at least, keep the admin spot while I study.” He looked thoughtful, but happy. “I’ve done a lot of jobs in my life, and on the back of a high school diploma. Never had the chance to do more school. Until now, I never really wanted to.”
“And now you do?”
“Now I’m willing to think about it. If I can find something I can do here. On-line, or close by. I’ll have to do some research. And talk to Susan, of course.”
“I’ll help. Just let me know if there’s any way I can.”
“Thanks Bill.” Leland pulled out his keys and looked at them thoughtfully. “Do you know, I’ve never in my life had a key ring with keys to a car, a home and a workplace all at the same time. Not until Matthew. It’s kind of an amazing thing, finding your place.” He looked up at Bill. “Your person. You should look into it. I think you’d like it.”
“Are you being smart right now?”
“I’m always smart. Am I being a smart ass?” He paused then shrugged. “Yeah, okay. I’m usually that, too, huh?”
“You think?” Bill couldn’t hold back a sigh. “I know where I belong. Just not sure I can convince anyone they belong there with me.”
“You have been a bit all over the place. Or, you know, so I hear.”
“I’d protest that rumour, if it wasn’t at least partly true.”
“Maybe you consider not bringing randoms home every other week and stick to one.”
“One guy?” Bill snorted. He’d yet to meet a single guy who could hold his interest for more than a date or two. “None of them fit like Hu—hum. Um.” He grimaced and scratched at his scalp. “Pretend you didn’t hear that.
Leland smirked. “Only if you can pretend you didn’t say it.”
“Go home.”
“I’m going. But call if you need me back here. And I’ll let Susan know what’s what when she gets to the clinic in the morn—well. Later.” He sighed. “I’m going. I have to sleep before I can answer phones and be nice.”
“Have a good rest of your night.”
“You too.” He smiled once in the direction of the stalls, then wandered out to his car.
Bill spread his blanket over some hay bales, got comfortable with his thermos of coffee and his snacks, and waited. With any luck, the horses would sleep for a few hours, and nothing of note would happen before someone could come and relieve him. It felt a little bit like holding his breath, this waiting. So far, things had gone far more smoothly than they could have, but twin foals were so rare, there was no way to tell if things might go south.
“Better safe than sorry, eh guys?” he asked them.
The mare snuffled softly at her babies, both of whom looked to be sleeping where they lay, legs folded under them. As long as things remained this calm and ordinary, his presence here was unnecessary. If he had to spend his night in the barn to make sure everything remained uneventful, it was a small price to pay for something this incredible.
He had to admit he was drifting when the sun peeked over the hilltops.
“Hey.” A gruff voice buffeted his consciousness and he blinked.
“Hey yourself.” He squinted up at Huxley in the slanting morning light. “Time is it?” His back creaked a bit as he pushed to his feet—too quickly because he swayed slightly.
“Easy, sleepyhead.” Huxley caught his arm and braced his shoulder. “Take a minute. It’s around six. Birds, apparently, wake up early.”
Bill chuckled. “That tracks. Crows in the trees out my back yard are assholes.”
“Funk isn’t an asshole.”
“Funk?”
“He has an aroma.”
“Most wild animals do.”
“Well. He’s not an asshole. Just restless. Luckily, Janet had some walnuts in the shell, so I left those to entertain him while I came down here to check on things.”
“Smart.”
“Enrichment, they call it.”
Bill lifted an eyebrow at him.
“I’ve been reading up. He figured out the touch lamp beside my bed, and the sensor on the kitchen tap. Also the robot vacuum, and pull cord on the living room desk lamp. Little fucker kept turning shit on and off until I got up. Although to be fair, he saw me use the tap and the desk lamp, so that was just observation. I heard they were smart, but sweet baby Jesus. I should be letting him take that government test. Earn his keep.”
Bill snapped his jaw shut.
“What?”
“That was probably more words than all if yesterday put together.”
Huxley glared through narrowed eyes.
“What? It’s true”
“Anyway.” Huxley held out a to-go mug. “Some tea.”
“Tea.”
“Herbal.”
“Not going to help me stay awake.”
“No need. I’m here to spell you.”
Just the thought of not having to stay awake any longer made Bill yawn a jaw-cracking yawn.
“You sure you can drive?”
“No at all.”
Huxley nodded. “Use my place. Get some rest, and you can drive home later.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“Practical. No one wants to be unwrapping you from a tree later this morning. Go on up to my trailer and crash. I’ll wait for the vet. The other vet.”
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” He pushed the tea into Bill’s hand. “Drink that. It’ll help. And take a shower.”
“Don’t want your sheets smelling like straw and afterbirth?”
“You’ll sleep better,” Huxley said softly. He cupped a hand behind Bill’s nape. “Drink the tea. Eat a muffin. They’re in the breadbox, because Funk might be a bit of asshole when it comes to my food. Take a shower and hit the sheets.”
“You being bossy?”
Huxley’s fingers tightened their curl around the back of his neck. His thumb stroked along Bill’s jaw. “You need me to be?”
Bill’s fuzzy brain couldn’t figure out how to answer that, so he said nothing, just stared.
“Go,” Huxley told him. “I’ll check on you later.”
God, but that was nice. If he just did what Huxley told him to do, there was no chance of making the wrong choice this time, so he nodded, took the mug of tea, and let his shoulders relax slightly.
“There it is.” Huxley huffed. “You be in that bed when I get there, here? Don’t run away again.”
“Where would I go?”
“No where.” This time his tone was gruff. He gave Bill a small nudge towards the door. “Get going. Before you fall over.”
Bill thought he heard the ghost of ‘before I change my mind’ under the words, so he went.