Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
GIA
The rest of the foaling came easy. After all that strain, this part felt like mercy. The foal slipped free, small and slick, into the shavings. I moved on instinct, clearing its airway, checking for breaths. For a second there was nothing. Then, the foal had a thin, fragile movement of air.
“Good,” I whispered.
Behind me, the mare stretched toward the foal, nickering low. The foal twitched, legs scrambling, trying to figure out how to exist in a body that didn’t quite work yet. I stepped back, giving them space. My hands hovered uselessly for a second before I let them fall. That’s when I heard it.
“Hey, Sof. Bad dream?” Timothy’s deep voice echoed through the stall, resonating deep in my gut.
I turned to look at the baby monitor before I could stop myself.
On the tiny glowing screen in black and white shadow, he stepped into the room, all the hard edges gone from him.
He crouched just as his daughter threw herself at him, wrapping around his neck like she’d been holding that fear in until he got there.
He caught her without hesitation.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, pulling her in close.
My lungs screamed for me to exhale when I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath.
“Took you so long,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“I know.” His voice stayed low, steady. Certain. “There’s something special going on.” Then he added softer, “Aunt Erika’s mare is having her baby. You want to see?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled and reached for a blanket and shoes, moving around the room like this was second nature. Like taking care of his daughter was the most natural thing in the world. Then he carried her out. The screen went still again.
Behind me, the foal let out another shaky sound, pushing up onto unsteady legs. The mare breathed over it.
Everything was right. The foal was breathing. The mare was steady. It should’ve felt like enough.
My vision blurred before I realized what was happening. I dragged in a breath that caught halfway, my throat tightening around it. This had nothing to do with the foal and everything to do with what Timothy had said. And the way he said it.
I’ve got you.
For a moment, I wanted to believe that kind of promise didn’t break once it was made. I dabbed at my eyes, refusing to be caught crying.
Timothy appeared with the little one in his arms. The child looked even smaller with her arms looped tight around his neck, her cheek mashed against his shoulder.
“Sofia,” he said, “I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Dr. Stevens.”
“Hi, Sofia,” I said. “You can call me Gia.”
She leaned back just enough to study me, eyes heavy with sleep but painfully intent. Timothy’s exact blue, but…judgier.
“Your hair,” she said slowly. “It’s kinda redish. And kinda brown.”
“Kinda both,” I agreed. “I like your hair too.”
She considered that, then nodded like we’d reached a treaty. “You am-nal doc like Unc Josh?”
“Sure am.”
Another solemn nod. I had apparently passed inspection. Timothy put her down.
A dog trotted down the aisle. The blue heeler sat next to Sofia. Without thinking, she put her hand on his head.
I knelt down and held out my hand to the dog. “You’re a pretty guy. What’s your name?”
“Bagel,” Timothy said. “He’s the son of the pup you gave me.”
I took Bagel’s head between my hands. “You’re so beautiful.” Then I sought out Timothy’s gaze. “Thank you for saving that little guy and giving him a legacy.”
“Sure,” he said gruffly. To Sofia he said, “I’m going to set you up on some hay bales outside her stall so you can see the foal.
” He stacked them with precision, then spread her blanket across the top like he was making a luxury suite instead of a hay fort.
Once satisfied, he lifted her up and set her in the middle. “There you go. Best seat in the house.”
She crossed her legs immediately, sitting like the queen of the barn. The dog took up position beneath her.
I turned back to the foal, running my hands along her legs, checking her breathing. I still worried about pneumonia, but it was too early to call it.
“What’s the plan, Doc?” Timothy asked, glancing between me and Sofia like he had two supervisors now.
“We watch her for a while. Make sure everything stays normal.”
“It’s a filly?” Timothy’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Erika will like that.”
My phone dinged. I checked it, thumbs moving quickly as I texted Josh back, then snorted at the next message.
“What’s so funny?” Timothy asked, leaning in a little too far to read it.
“Text from Hud.”
HudDVM: Out with a colic. How’s my girl doing? You out working tonight?
When I looked up, Timothy’s expression had gone tight in that very specific, very male way. “He texts you in the middle of the night and he calls you his girl?”
I weighed my options and chose chaos. “Sure does.”
“Sofia, you comfortable up there?” he asked quickly.
“I’m comfy,” she said, squinting at him. “You not com-free?”
“I’m fine.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You got on your mad face.”
“I do not have a mad face.”
“You do.” She pointed, in case he missed it. “That one.”
“I am not angry.”
“You mad at Doc Gia?” she asked, scandalized. “She’s a dok-tur. You not ’posed to be mad at dok-turs. They fix stuff.”
“She is nice,” Timothy said, like he was clinging to that as a defense.
“Then why you mad?” Sofia pressed.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“If you’re not mad, then what are you?” I asked, trying hard not to smile.
Sofia leaned forward, fully invested now. “Yeah, what are you?”
His gaze bounced between us, trapped.
“I didn’t like that someone called Gia his girl.”
“She is a girl.” Sofia frowned, processing. Then she brightened. “You can call her your girl. Will you stop the mad face then?”
Ah. Straight to the firing squad.
Timothy made a strangled noise that might’ve once been a word.
“How’s the foal?” he asked, abandoning ship entirely.
“She’s great,” I said, not even pretending to help him.
“Daddy didn’t answer,” Sofia sing-songed.
He cleared his throat. “We’re all going to be quiet and watch the foal for a while. It’s okay if you get sleepy. I’m right here.”
“Okay,” Sofia said.
After an hour of waiting, Sofia conked out on the hay bale. Timothy made some borders out of horse blankets around her to make sure she wouldn’t fall off.
I cleared my throat. “So, I heard you were married. Is Sofia from that?”
Timothy shook his head. “No. That only lasted a few months before she left me for someone else.”
“I’m sorry. That’s brutal. My ex-husband left me for a vet tech at our practice.” I tried to laugh, but it came out thin. “Seems we both got left.”
He grimaced. “Yours is worse. You still had to work there?”
“Probably my fault anyway.” I shrugged like it didn’t matter.
His head snapped toward me. “How the hell is that your fault?”
“How’s it your fault your ex left?”
“She didn’t cheat exactly. We were barely married two months before we separated. We just weren’t right together.” He frowned at me. “That’s not the same as your husband cheating on you with someone you worked with.”
I stared down at my hands. “There were problems. I don’t think I loved him enough.”
“Bullshit.” The word came hard. “If he was unhappy, he should’ve dealt with it. Not humiliate you like that.”
“It’s done.” The words felt empty even as I said them. “So, what about Sofia’s mom? Is that serious, or do you have multiple baby mamas?”
He cracked a smile. “Only one. Milly and I had a brief thing. She might’ve had Sofia, but she never wanted her. Or me.” He shrugged. “I’ve had Sof pretty much the whole time since she was born.”
“She’s beautiful. And sassy.” I smiled Sofia’s way. “Like you.”
“She is.” His eyes melted when he looked her over to where she slept on the hay bale.
“You’re a good dad,” I said softly.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know.” I gave him a small smile but felt sad to my bones. I slid to sit against the wall of the stall, exhausted.
He sat next to me, our shoulders touching, and sighed. “Gia…”
“Rye.”
“We’re going to talk about it.”
I rotated my arms in front of me. The bruises looked a bit better than a few days ago.
They didn’t hurt physically. I didn’t want my father in here, not in this space that smelled like hay, warm animals, and something almost sacred.
“Same old shit. Same old asshole. We can’t let it ruin tonight. I’m okay.”
His gaze stayed fixed on my arms too long. “Can you stay away from him?”
I dropped my chin. “We live in the same town. I worry about my mother without Misty there to be a buffer.” My voice softened despite myself. “Mama’s not doing great, but I can’t get her to leave.”
The silence stretched.
Then quietly, carefully, like he was trying not to spook me, he said, “I’ll go with you next time you have to go out there.”
I barked out a sarcastic laugh before I could stop it. “Because that would go well.”
He didn’t smile. Instead, his eyes dropped back to the fading bruises, and something in his expression twisted sharply as if seeing them on me physically hurt him.
“I don’t want him to hurt you worse,” he admitted softly.
I bumped my shoulder against his, trying to lighten something that suddenly felt too raw between us. “Kind of déjà vu, huh? We’re having the same conversation we had all those years ago.”
Only, I got hurt enough to force me to leave back then.
“Seems so,” he said, voice rough. “Difference is, back then we were kids. Now we’re not.
” His hand flexed at his side like he wanted to reach for me and stopped himself.
“Why didn’t you tell me what happened to you after you ran away?
One text. One call. Anything. I still don’t even know where you went.
I thought for a while you might’ve died.
I don’t understand how you could forget everything we had like that. ”
I frowned up at him, close enough now to see the fatigue etched into his face. Without thinking, I reached up and plucked a small shavings chip from his hair. My fingers lingered half a second too long.