Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The next weekend, dust billowed behind Jewel's truck as she navigated the rutted ranch road, her fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against the steering wheel. The late afternoon sunlight slanted golden across dry grasslands, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch with her mounting headache. She'd worked herself to the bone this week to forget her fight with Chase.
Her phone vibrated. Gemma's voice burst through before she could even say hello.
"Are you finished at the Robsons? There's a pregnant mare at the Williams' that had a nasty run-in with a bull." The rapid-fire words carried an undercurrent of urgency that made Jewel's stomach clench.
Gemma continued, "I got her stabilized this morning but needed to come back to the clinic, so I told Mrs. Williams I'd send you or Dad to help. Dad's in surgery, and I don't want to pull him out." A quick, frustrated exhale. "Can you help? I know it's your day off, and we already asked you to look at the Robsons, but?—"
Day off. Right. As if veterinarians ever truly had a day off, especially in ranching country.
"I'm on my way," Jewel interrupted, her mind already racing through potential complications. A pregnant mare injured by a bull? Two months from delivery? Her hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles whitening, asking Gemma questions about the situation.
Gemma explained what had happened in the early morning hours. The mare had been lucky, all things considered, and Gemma had felt comfortable leaving. But Ava was nearly hysterical when she'd called, which was so unusual that Gemma called Jewel.
"It's fine, Sis. I'll see what I can do to help," Jewel said.
Gemma sighed in relief. "Thank you. If I haven't told you how grateful I am that you're here, I am."
Jewel chuckled. "You haven't mentioned it today, no."
Gemma chuckled, and they hung up as she approached the Williams' ranch, a patchwork of fenced paddocks and weathered outbuildings. Her stomach twisted, wondering if she'd see Chase. She had avoided him the past few weeks, only spying him from a distance—across the church congregation, across the barn at his parents', at the diner.
Jewel killed the engine and grabbed her go-bag, scanning the landscape for immediate signs of distress. Her veterinary training kicked in—quick assessment, controlled approach. The pasture beside the house had several men gathered around the fence, and she strode over.
When she drew close, Ava glanced at her, her face etched with a mixture of relief and determination. "Thank God you're here," she called, standing inside the fence and wiping her brow.
Two ranch hands flanked her, ropes coiled and ready. Beyond them, in the far pasture, a pregnant mare thrashed wildly, her movements erratic and violent.
"She's been bucking for twenty minutes straight," one ranch hand shouted. "Can't get close enough to assess her."
Jewel's mind raced. A bleeding wrap was visible on the mare's back flank, dark crimson seeping through the makeshift bandage. Immediately, she inventoried her medical kit.
Damn. She wished she'd kept the specialized obstetric ultrasound probe in the truck instead of putting it in the clinic yesterday. A larger dose of equine sedatives would be useful about now too, because this wasn't going to be simple.
"I need more information," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. The mare looked ready to bolt—or worse, deliver a premature foal in extreme distress.
Her eyes narrowed, calculating her next move as she slipped through the open gate of the fence and into the pasture.
Ava stepped closer, her voice tight with worry. "The bull broke through the back fence this morning. Clio—that's the mare—she fought back hard. Didn't just run. Gemma came right away and took care of everything, so we felt things were getting better. That's why we let her back into the pasture, but within an hour, she started panicking. We can't figure out why."
Before Jewel could respond, hoof beats announced Chase's arrival. He dismounted with practiced grace, handing his horse to a nearby ranch hand. His movements were deliberate, professional.
Ava startled. "Chase, what are you?—"
"Heard you needed help, and Hunter's mending the fence from the bull," he said, striding through the gate and toward the mare.
"Easy," Chase murmured, more to himself than the horse. His boots moved with calculated slowness, reading the mare's body language.
Jewel recognized that technique. Controlled approach, minimal threat. She'd seen countless ranchers do this a thousand times, but today something felt different. More urgent.
Ava wrung her hands and nearly growled, "That boy doesn't know what he's doing."
Jewel glanced at her, then at Chase. "I don't know, seems like he's moving the same as any of us would."
Despite her quiet defense, Jewel's heart caught in her throat as Chase approached the mare. Clio was wild-eyed, muscles trembling with adrenaline. One powerful kick could easily shatter bone.
She pulled a small syringe from her bag. An anxiety reducer, designed to calm without fully sedating. Her fingers trembled slightly as she uncapped it.
"Trent," she called to one of the ranch hands, "what exactly happened before she started bucking?"
Trent talked as Jewel set her bag aside, careful of the needle. She mimicked Chase, slowly walking toward him where he stroked Clio's shoulder and murmured softly.
The horse's ears flicked as Jewel drew closer. Her breathing came in rapid, desperate bursts, her eyes wild as their gazes locked and she pawed the ground. Clio let out a plaintive whine, the sound piercing her soul. Jewel knew that sound. Pain, fear… death.
She stepped forward, speaking softly. "Easy, girl, easy." She stroked Clio's other side, staying near her neck and focusing on her head.
The syringe slid smoothly into Clio's neck. But instead of flinching and flicking her tail like normal, the mare seemed to grow more agitated. She jerked away from Jewel so fast, Clio hit Chase on the other side, sending him stumbling to his knees in the dirt.
A spike of anxiety made Jewel's hands shake and a deep dread filled her. Jewel rushed to Chase's side as Clio reared back, bucking with hooves raised.
Ava yelled behind them, and Jewel tried to help as Chase scrambled to his feet and out of the way, his arm around her waist as they dragged each other away.
Ava met them by the gate, hands on hips. "Chase, why did you do that?" His mom frowned at them before turning to watch Clio still bucking.
One of the ranch hands offered Chase a bottle of water while Jewel capped the needle and put it in her bag.
Chase drank before answering her. "Hunter's not here, Ma. I may not be your favorite, but I know what I'm doing, believe it or not, and it's better I go out there than one of the ranch hands. I'm dispensable."
Jewel's hand eased up Chase's back in a reassuring motion as she glared up at him. "Don't talk like that. You are not."
Ava snorted and walked slowly toward Clio, ignoring them. Now that the medicine was working its magic in her blood stream, Clio seemed to be calming down. Chase looked down at her, but she couldn't read his expression behind the sunglasses.
She took in a deep, dusty breath as Ava slowly led Clio through the gate, across the yard, and into the cool barn. Jewel and Chase walked side by side, but the emotional distance between them loomed greater than the few feet that separated them.
Jewel tried to focus on the task at hand. The mare's muscles were still coiled like steel springs. Her hooves scraped against the barn floor, creating a thunderous rhythm as Ava crooned softly, patting her neck as they both walked into a stall.
Ava's hand ran down Clio's side, and Clio reared, her massive body blocking out the dim light filtering through the barn's dusty windows.
"Mom, get back!" Chase shouted, jumping forward, Jewel reaching for Ava as if in slow motion. Don't touch her side! Her mind screamed, but no sound emerged.
Ava was too close, too slow.
Clio's hoof struck with terrifying precision. It caught Ava square in the side, the impact so sharp Jewel could hear the whoosh of air leaving Ava's lungs and the crack of bone. His mother collapsed to the ground.
"No!" Chase gasped and lunged, positioning himself between the rearing horse and the crumpled form of his mother. His arms spread wide, trying to appear larger and distract Clio from her potential next strike even as he started to soothe her with soft, singing, his voice warbling with emotion.
Jewel's medical training kicked in. She grabbed Ava's shoulders, her grip firm but careful, and dragged her backward, away from the horse's lethal hooves.
"Get my dad!" Chase yelled to a ranch hand, his voice sharp with command as he continued to work with the horse.
Clio continued her frenzied dance, slamming against the stall walls. The wood creaked ominously with each impact as Chase backed out of the stall to avoid her.
Jewel's hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone. The 911 dispatcher's voice seemed miles away, distant and tinny.
"Medical emergency," she stammered, checking Ava's pulse. Thready. Weak. "Horse kick to the pelvis. Middle-aged female. Possible internal injuries. Definite broken bones."
Chase kneeled beside his mother, brushing the hair out of her eyes and quietly asking, "Mom, Mom, come on, wake up."
Ava moaned but didn't open her eyes, and Jewel's heart ached as Chase nearly bowed over his mother's body in relief at the soft sound.
"Oh, thank God," he choked, his hands fisting in the dirt.
Clio's desperate cries drowned out the operator's questions. The horse's screams were primal, a mix of pain and terror that seemed to shake the very foundations of the barn. Jewel was on autopilot as she checked Ava's heart rate and breathing, relaying it to the operator and answering her questions.
The ambulance's arrival was a blur of white and red. Paramedics moved with practiced efficiency, their hands gentle but firm as they assessed Ava and prepared her for transport. Chase and Jewel stumbled to their feet and out of the way, arms around each other as they sought solace together.
Hunter raced inside and fell beside Ava just as she came more awake. Jewel's instincts screamed. The horse was still in crisis, but she worried about Ava. She took a step toward Clio's stall, muscle memory of countless veterinary emergencies pulling her forward.
Chase's hand caught her arm. His grip was firm, stopping her mid-stride.
"No," he said, his voice flat and final. "You can't. It's too dangerous."
The muscles in Jewel's jaw clenched. Her eyes, still wet with the residual shock of Ava's fall, hardened. Years of training, of handling fractious animals, of understanding their pain and fear, rose inside her.
She jerked her arm out of his hand. The movement was sharp, decisive.
"I have to," Jewel said. Her voice was quiet but steel-edged. "There's no one else who can do this. If we don't calm her down, neither of them will survive."
Her gaze locked with Chase's. In that moment, she saw something familiar, something so like Destini's stubbornness, the same determination to protect his loved ones that had drawn her to him years ago.
"Chase," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "This is my job . Let me save her."
* * *
Chase's frown deepened, a mix of concern and resigned understanding settling in his chest. He knew that look—the one that meant Jewel was going to do exactly what she believed was right, regardless of anyone's opinion.
"We can't risk you getting kicked," he said, desperate to protect her. His hands were sweating from the chaos and fear still licked up his spine at seeing his mother so helpless.
His mind raced to piece together a hierarchy of needs. Clio was still agitated, the stall walls trembling with each violent movement. The paramedics and Hunter had his mom well in hand, and there was nothing he could do there. He glanced around, calculating.
"We'll box her in," Jewel said, pointing to the rectangular hay bales stacked nearby.
Chase sighed a ragged breath. "Like a cattle head gate. It'll restrict her movement without causing more stress, and the hay will cushion her thrashing so she's not slamming against the walls. Hell, maybe she'll eat it and take a nap."
A nearby ranch hand stood frozen, waiting for instruction. Jewel's voice cut through with authority, and Chase marveled at how they worked in sync. "Get me some sweet feed. Or apples. Something to distract her."
Trent nodded, grateful for clear direction.
Chase stepped closer, speaking low. "I'll help set the bales." His hand brushed hers—a quick, reassuring touch that spoke of a deep understanding of each other's rhythms and needs. The naturalness of it gave him hope that maybe they could make up from their fight.
Outside, the ambulance lights continued to pulse, a silent reminder of the emergency that had just unfolded. Chase's heart was still racing, the image of his mother being dragged from the stall burned into his memory.
But right now, Clio needed them, and Jewel was going to save this horse.
The ranch hand returned with a bucket of sweet feed, his boots scuffing against the barn's wooden floor, as the paramedics rolled Ava out the barn. Chase took it, his movements precise and controlled, a remnant of prison life where he couldn't afford to make mistakes.
He hung the bucket on the inside of the stall and held out an apple. "Here, girl. Look what Trent found. Isn't he the best?"
Trent snorted but leaned his head over the door. "That's right, Clio, I'm the best, remember? I'm the one who took you for that nice, long, slow ride down by the creek. Then there was the time we?—"
Chase stepped back and looked around as Clio began to calm, gravitating toward Trent's deep voice. Jewel glanced between them and the door to the barn as the last of the paramedics went outside. Jewel bit her lip then darted toward the door as Clio snorted, then stepped toward the bucket where he'd tossed the apple.
When her head disappeared inside it, he took a deep breath and slowly backed away so as not to startle her. He needed to check on his mom before she left, felt the same need that drove Jewel outside.
He stepped out of the barn just as the ambulance door slammed shut, its engine running but the sirens no longer blaring and scaring the horses. Hunter stood motionless, his face a canvas of shock and worry.
And Jewel was holding his hand and leaning her head against his arm.
Chase's fingers brushed against the rough fabric of his jeans, seeking something—anything—to ground himself. He'd lost Jewel to his brother—again—and his mom might have internal injuries. She might not make it, and he might never confront her about how she'd treated him since he got out… or apologize to her for not talking to her on the phone or writing.
The ambulance's taillights were fading down the long ranch road, carrying his mother to the hospital.
Hunter half-turned, his face ashen. "I should have been here," he muttered, more to himself than anyone.
Jewel's grip on his arm tightened. "This wasn't your fault," she said firmly. Her veterinary training was clear in her calm, measured tone—the same voice she used to soothe frightened animals.
Chase watched his brother, seeing the guilt etching lines around his eyes. Hunter had always been the responsible one, the heir apparent who'd stayed on the ranch while Chase had been the worst disappointment of them all.
"If you need to go with the ambulance, Chase and I can look after Clio. I can call Gemma to come out too," Jewel suggested, rubbing Hunter's arms as if trying to warm them.
Chase nodded, but they didn't see him. It was as if he'd never returned from prison, like he was a shadow on this ranch and not a real, living part of it. The idea settled in his soul like a missing puzzle piece. He wasn't welcome here, not really. It was time he found his own place, probably nearer town where he could ride a bicycle or take Gladys with him.
He turned away from them as bile made him burp, stepping into the barn. Trent looked up at him in the soft light of the barn, his worry making Chase's steps hasten.
"She's getting agitated again. Does Jewel have more medicine for her?"
Chase shrugged and nodded to the nearby hay. "She'll be back in a minute. For now, let's see if we can put some hay bales into the stall so she doesn't have a way to slam up against the walls."
Chase's chest was tight with emotion. Jewel had rejected him last weekend and now she was rubbing up on Hunter. It shouldn't hurt so much; he'd barely gotten to know her again.
He worked slowly and methodically, trying not to startle the horse or set his stomach roiling.