New horses, new gin #2
Indeed, Artemis had abruptly ended her relaxed grazing.
Instead, she stood wide-legged and raised her tied tail so that even at a distance and in the twilight, the outline of delicate little hoofs protruding from the birth canal could be seen.
Artemis gave her hindquarters an anxious look, as if she was distraught by what was happening, then she neighed excitedly.
This was a delicate stage. Kendrick had seen mares panic and trample their newborn foals.
Fortunately, it was very rare but it did happen occasionally.
Rupert next to him also tensed but put a reassuring hand on Kendrick’s shoulder nevertheless.
Apparently, he had flinched without noticing, prepared to jump in and intervene if necessary.
“She can do it,” said the older man. It almost sounded as if he were trying to manifest the desired outcome.
Artemis was panting heavily, but her eyes no longer showed any trace of panic.
She swayed a little, and Kendrick assumed she felt a strong urge to lie down.
It would be more comfortable for the foal if she did, but it was better for her if she stayed standing up and allowed gravity to work its magic.
The next contraction pushed the foal out even further, so that now its nostrils were visible.
From this point on, everything went exactly as it should: once the foal was half-way out, Artemis did lie down just in time to prevent the little one from falling all the way to the ground.
It slid out gently, and the mare took a breather for a few minutes before she stood up to lick the foal clean, as confidently as if she had done so many times before.
“Never fails to amaze me,” Rupert said in a raspy voice, and Kendrick sensed that the older man with all his experience was just as moved as he was.
“No, never,” he croaked and cleared his throat. “As soon as the afterbirth is out, let’s go over and see how she’s doing. Maybe you could lead her into the stable, and I can carry the little one and have a closer look at it indoors.”
A few minutes later, a final contraction shook the mare, who stoically continued to lick her baby dry. Kendrick and Rupert approached slowly; Artemis was alert but remained calm.
“Good lass,” praised Rupert and stroked the mare as the foal was trying to get up. “Someone’s quick on their feet.”
“Aye,” replied Kendrick. “My money’s on her being quick on her feet. Fillies are always quicker to rise than the little colts.”
“Total rubbish,” Rupert countered with a grin. “Not my experience at all.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Seriously?” intervened Alice, who had just joined them. “Men! A miracle happens in front of your eyes, and you want to bet on it? Don’t you have any other way to express your emotions?” She shook her head but smiled.
Kendrick felt caught. There was some truth to Alice Fraser’s words. “You’re right,” he conceded. “But bet or not, I’m convinced Artemis’s foal is a filly. Now, let’s get mother and baby inside, shall we? Alice, would you take my bag, please?”
With that, he squatted down and lifted the young one up.
It was quite heavy already, but he was used to carrying heavy loads.
He groaned a little until he was safely upright again, then walked with sure steps and a firm grip on the delicate foal to the stable.
By the time they were back in the foaling box, he was panting heavily and could feel the sweat running down his back.
The moment he set the newborn down in the fragrant straw, it immediately wriggled free and made its next attempt to stand up.
Artemis nudged it encouragingly, and a few moments later the little girl – Kendrick had been right about that – stood on her own four legs for the first time.
If only for a few seconds, before she fell back into the soft cushion of her straw bed.
Meanwhile, Kendrick examined Artemis, who was in good shape considering she had just given birth.
“This part is always so cute,” Alice commented as she adored the foal’s tireless endeavours. “I’ll fetch some fresh tea and the sandwiches.”
An hour later, sated and with the good feeling of having done something useful, Kendrick got into his car and drove home.
The young foal was perfectly healthy and had already found her mother’s milk bar.
The early summer sun had risen and bathed Kirkby in a soft light as the town came to life. What a perfect start to the day!
“I can’t believe I’m thinking about changing strategy a mere five days after opening my business,” exclaimed Shona and heaved a deep sigh.
She was meeting with her mentor Kieran Gibbs, her father, the mayor and Sarah from VisitScotland in the room that would eventually become her distillery’s tasting room and shop.
For the moment, it comprised only a single large table and chairs and the walls were still bare.
It must be difficult for others to imagine this space ever having an inviting, cosy atmosphere.
But Shona could see the room as she wanted it to be clearly in her mind’s eye.
“It’s no’ a change of strategy but rather a more solid business model,” Sarah objected animatedly. “And a really great opportunity.” She tapped on the pile of papers in front of her that they had gone over earlier, then took out her tablet and opened a search engine.
Shona knew what the tourism expert was about to say.
She had gone over the coverage of her opening before: the event had been featured extensively, especially on social media, but several newspapers and some big influencers had also covered it.
But most of them had focused almost exclusively on her gin, as no one had been able to taste her whisky yet.
The response had been the same across the board, as one headline put it: “The new gin sensation from the Highlands!”
Shona had thought of the gin as a temporary solution, a product to sell until her whisky was ready to drink.
She hadn’t expected such an enthusiastic response.
They had originally settled on a thousand bottles of Alpaca Thistle – and apart from a small stock at the pub, Isla’s restaurant and her brother’s resort, the whole batch was completely sold out. Within just a few days!
“Shona, it’s brilliant. This gives us a product that’s clearly linked to Kirkby and that visitors can take home with them.
Plus, it’s already in demand. Thanks to your gin, our town is literally making headlines!
That’s good for you, for Kirkby and for the entire region.
” No surprise that this was Collum’s take on the matter.
The mayor, cheeks flushed with enthusiasm, looked as if he had personally scored a major coup.
“I hate to do it, but I must agree with Collum, if only on one point,” Shona’s da intervened, and she could hardly believe her ears.
Marlin Fraser had never before sided with the mayor, with whom he had been locked in a feud for years.
This was a day to mark in the diary! She was rather sure she knew which point found her father taking the mayor’s side.
“I know,” she said dejectedly. “I could make a lot of money with the gin and pay off my debt much faster than originally planned.”
“It’s no’ about debt,” objected Marlin. “You know very well that I’ll be the guarantor for your bank loan, no matter how things go.
This is about your independence and personal success.
Whisky is a long-term project; it’s like making a bet on the future.
I’m sure your whisky is going to be wonderful, but let’s no’ kid ourselves: it will take years, if no’ decades, to find out how good and successful the Alpaca Golden will be.
Tha’s one heck of a timeline for someone as young as you.
Princess, this second business model has practically fallen into your lap with a chance to generate significant revenues in the short and medium term.
You shouldnae let the opportunity pass you by. ”
“But ...” Shona began and then stopped. Her thoughts were racing, and she was struggling to make sense of it all.
It was understandable that Sarah from the tourist board and Collum were keen on having a marketable product, but it confused her that her father agreed with them.
In fact, she found it astonishing, even a little bewildering, how business-minded he sounded.
Daddy worked as a farrier, had a small flock of sheep and owned Harriswood House with the family estate.
None of this would account for significant income or wealth.
Nevertheless, Marlin had generously supported his children in their various endeavours, and sometimes Shona suspected that he had considerable financial means at his disposal.
Where the money came from, she didn’t know, and neither did her siblings.
None of them had ever pressed him on it, but Alex remembered a period in Marlin’s life in which he had been home only sporadically.
As he didn’t tell them what he had been up to, they had speculated wildly.
Alex said he used to imagine their da as a secret agent – but that was hardly a way to earn that much money either.
She thought it was more likely that he had held a lucrative position as an investment banker, which now allowed him to do whatever he wanted: shoeing horses, breeding sheep, funding the renovation of heritage buildings in Kirkby or putting money into his children’s businesses.
But it was something else that really rubbed her the wrong way about what he had just said.
“Do you think whisky-making is just my latest whim? That I’m not serious about it and will only stick with it until I get excited about something else?” she bellowed. “You think that I’ll throw my dream overboard the moment a quick and easy business opportunity presents itself?”