Chapter 15 Cora #2
It’s Theo’s voice that makes me realize I’d had my eyes closed, squeezed shut, focusing on feeling and finding a solution. “I think I can move it,” I say through gritted teeth. “Just keep her calm like this.”
I pray to God I can position the foal without needing a second hand—that would definitely get Mabel kicking.
I manage to feel what I’m certain are the foal’s front legs, using them as a guide to gently reposition it, and when I’m done, I pull out, quickly scooching away from Mabel.
“You got it?” Theo asks me with wide eyes as I urge him to stand and move away as well.
“I think so,” I say, hoping it’s true.
Just then, Mabel whinnies again, kicking out her legs, and then the foal’s front feet emerge from the birth canal. I squeal in delighted shock, freezing in place as if one wrong move in the stable could somehow deter the process.
Theo nudges me gently. “Is that good?” he asks.
I nod. “Feet first is normal,” I assure him.
Theo grips my arm from beside me, and I turn to see his mouth open in awe as Mabel slowly delivers her foal. I remember the first time I ever saw an animal give birth—it’s an equally horrifying and awe-inspiring experience.
Hands clasped tightly together in front of me, I watch as Mabel delivers her baby, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. But—thank God—everything goes smoothly.
“Can you grab a towel out of my vet bag?” I ask Theo, gesturing to the bag outside the pen while I move to the foal, making sure its nostrils are clear so it can breathe properly. Theo comes back quickly with the towel, and I wrap the foal, drying it off and doing a quick inspection.
“Looks healthy and happy,” I declare. “And a girl!”
Theo grins down at me with a look of utter joy and bewilderment.
“Holy shit, Cora … you just did that.” The tone of his voice forces my head up to meet his gaze.
And … I’ve never seen Theo look at me quite like this before.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at me like this.
This mixture of pride and awe and excitement and …
something deeper I can’t quite identify.
Mabel scoots around in the straw, moving closer to the foal, sniffing and licking her ears. I stand, giving them space and moving closer to Theo.
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen,” Theo breathes, still looking at me. “You saved them.”
I feel my face flushing ever so slightly. I look away, shrugging. “Birth is always crazy—I had nothing to do with it.”
Theo snorts. “Cora, I’m pretty sure that mare could have died if you weren’t here. The foal too.”
I bite my lip. He’s probably right. Whether the foal would’ve been able to flip on its own in there, Mabel would have been in unproductive active labor for so long that who knows if she would have had the strength when it came down to it?
I smile softly and shrug again. “It’s my job.”
Theo’s hands are on my shoulders, squeezing softly and urging me to look up at him. “Well, you’re very good at your job,” he asserts.
I can feel the blush spreading across my cheeks, and once again, I’m caught up in the blue of Theo’s eyes, how tall he is, how broad his shoulders are, how he just jumped in and helped me with one of the scariest deliveries of my life.
Just then, Mabel snorts loudly, getting both of our attentions. I step back, chuckling softly. “Let me check their vitals and clean up a bit, and we can head out,” I say.
Theo nods and quietly exits the stall while I check out Mabel and her newborn foal. Then I clean up the area and make sure that horse and baby are situated and doing fine before grabbing my vet bag.
It’s only then that I realize how, well, gross I am.
Theo too. Aiding an animal delivery is never exactly a clean job, especially considering what I’ve just gone through.
“I think I’d like to take a shower before getting into your car,” I say, staring down at my stained clothes and thinking about Theo’s pristine truck.
He loves that stupid thing. Good thing the clinic has showers.
It’s not unusual to need one after a long day of work here.
“I wasn’t going to say anything …” Theo starts. I shoot him a mock dirty look, and he laughs, throwing his head back.
I snort. “Look at you, going on about the miracle of childbirth, but when it comes to your truck …” I wave my arm in the air.
Theo shakes his head as we walk along, leaving the barn and heading back to the clinic. “What can I say? Leather seats and afterbirth don’t go well together.”
I grimace. “Ew.”
“You’re a vet!” he goads.
“Which means I’m the only one who’s allowed to say ‘afterbirth.’”
“Didn’t know there were rules about that sort of thing.”
Theo and I tease each other all the way back to the clinic, complete with small shoves and smacks on the arm. “It’s a lifesaver that the clinic has showers,” he says as we walk through the front door. “I think I might take one too, even if I wasn’t as up close and personal as you were.”
I laugh, setting the vet bag down. But it isn’t until I glance in the direction of the bathrooms that I realize I don’t have a change of clothes with me.
“Damn,” I mutter.
“What?”
“Normally, I’d just run to my cabin to get clothes, so I never leave any here …” A shower isn’t going to do me much good if I have to climb back into the same dirty clothes.
“I have extra clothes in my truck.”
The offer stops me in my tracks. It’s logical, practical, but somehow so incredibly intimate. “Oh,” I state. “Yeah, I guess I could … wear those.”
“Great.” There’s a pause that goes on just a tad too long. Or maybe I’m just imagining things. “I’ll go get them.” Then he turns on his heel and is out the clinic doors.
I stand there for a moment, the events of the day slowly sinking in. Mabel’s birth, the complications, saving that foal, Theo’s support, and now … wearing his clothes.
I shake my head. I don’t know why I’m so stuck on that. It’s clothes. Just clothes.
I shrug off my jacket, leaving it on a metal chair in the entryway before heading to the bathrooms at the back.
The whole space is somewhat locker room style, albeit with a bit more privacy for each toilet and shower since the space is co-ed.
Each is behind its own door while the shared open space houses lockers and sinks.
I slip off my shoes, leaving them by the lockers, and then purse my lips and wait.
It’ll probably take Theo about ten minutes to walk down to the Village where he normally keeps his truck, and then another five minutes to drive up here.
I should probably wait. See what kind of clothes he has before fully committing to wearing them.
But the smell is really starting to get to me, and the longer I just stand here, the ickier I feel.
So I grab a towel from the nearby rack and head into one of the two showers. The shower room is large enough to change in, with a bench and towel hook near the door. I quickly undress, turning on the water and waiting for it to heat up.
Once it’s warm enough, I stand under the spray, closing my eyes and simply letting the hot water rush over me. Then I get to work with the body wash and shampoo, lathering myself up and washing away the day.
The sound of the bathroom door creaking open grabs my attention, and I momentarily freeze.
“Cora?” Theo calls.
I swallow. “Yeah. In the shower.” Fuck, my voice sounds strained.
“Great. I’m gonna take the other one,” he replies. Is it just my imagination or does Theo sound a bit off too?
I work the shampoo into my hair as I listen to Theo opening then closing the door to the shower beside me, then turn on the water. I hear the noise of his belt unbuckling, and I grit my teeth.
Do not think about Theo naked, I order myself, but that only brings forth flashbacks of when I’d run into him in the hallway a few weeks ago with nothing but a towel on.
And then waking up with his body pressed against mine …
I stick my face under the water, as if that will wash away my thoughts as well.
Theo Strickland may be my husband, but I have no right to be thinking about him that way.
Then I hear something that absolutely destroys that resolution.
Theo’s low groan on the other side of the wall.
Not a weird groan. More like a deep, relieved sigh as the water hits sore, grimy muscles.
Still—my stomach flips, and I have to lean against the tile for balance.
Get it together, Cora.
I try to focus on washing my hair. I try not to hear anything.
But I can’t stop myself from noticing—water hitting tile, the rustle of fabric, the slide of the shampoo bottles on the shelf. So close. Too close.
My heart thumps painfully.
“You doing okay over there?” Theo calls out, voice echoing lightly through the room.
“I’m great!” I answer way too fast, way too high-pitched. “Perfect. Amazing. Best shower of my life.”
He chuckles. A low, warm rumble.
“You say that every time you’re overtired,” he teases.
I groan into my palms. “Please stop knowing me so well.”
“Not something I can help.”
And God help me, my stomach flips again.
I finish rinsing, then turn off the water and towel off. I decide I can’t go out there completely unclothed, so I put my underwear back on. The rest I simply fold into a pile. Then I wrap my towel around me and head out.
Theo is still in his shower stall, and I can hear him humming quietly to himself.
Hugging the towel to my body for dear life, I stiffly take a seat on a bench in the center of the room.
I entertain myself by fidgeting with a loose thread on the towel until suddenly Theo’s shower door opens, and I glance up.
He’s standing there in jeans, no shirt. His abs glisten from the shower, his hair still wet as he absentmindedly towels it dry, his biceps flexing as he holds the towel over his head.
I don’t know when exactly my mouth opens, but I sure as hell shut it when I notice.
Then his gaze lands on me. And he … stares. His jaw flexes, and he swallows. I feel my cheeks redden, and I wrap my arms tighter around myself.