Chapter 23
CHAPTER
Mary Stone
STONE FAMILY FARM BULLOCK COUNTY, ALABAMA
I heard the rumble of the pickup truck before the vehicle came into view, ground to a stop. Then I heard the voice of the driver.
“I hope you know, Mary, nobody but you would have the gall to drag me out here before sunrise.”
That was probably true.
“Morning, Troy.”
A man dressed in tan coveralls opened the driver’s door and hopped out near my front porch, where I’d been pacing the wooden floorboards, waiting.
“You got a flashlight?” he muttered. “Can’t see my hand in front of my face. Sun’s not even up yet.”
So much for pleasantries. I held up my work lantern and flipped it on.
Troy winced and covered his eyes. “Damn it, Mary! You trying to blind me now?”
I aimed the beam at the gravel under our feet. “Quit griping, you big baby. You should be used to strange hours by now.”
Dr. Troy Nelson had been serving Bullock County as a veterinarian for about as long as I’d been in the law.
He’d grown up on a farm just down the road.
We went through school together, not always that friendly.
But we’d shared a similar path. A couple of Black farm kids determined to get into college and break into a profession.
I turned in my rubber boots to head for the barn and he fell into step beside me.
“Thanks for coming out,” I said. “I know it’s early in the day for a prenatal visit.”
“Damn right.”
As we opened the barn door, I could hear Tornado stirring in her stall.
When I walked up, she nickered and nuzzled me, resting her head on my shoulder. I nuzzled her right back. “And good morning to you, too, Mommy-to-be.”
I kept sweet-talking Tornado while Troy pressed his stethoscope against her abdomen.
“Hush, Mary,” he said. “It’s hard enough to hear a heartbeat over the gut noise. Can’t hear nothing with you chattering.”
I was not accustomed to being told to hush, but I complied. Because I was invested in the outcome of the examination. Hell, you’d think the baby was mine.
And in a way, it was.
After a few minutes, Troy stood upright, grunting as he rubbed his back. “Is her appetite off?”
“No, she seems to be eating just fine.”
“Well, she looks all right to me. Didn’t hear anything inside to be concerned about.”
I nodded, still on edge. Afraid he might drop a nugget of bad news.
Troy scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “There’d be no reason to worry at all, except for what happened last time. When was that? About a year and a half ago?”
“Closer to two.”
“That’s right,” said Troy. “She lost the foal around twenty weeks.” He patted Tornado’s flank before he stepped out of the stall.
I followed, kicking up straw and wood shavings. “What are the odds? That she’ll have a good outcome this time.”
“There’s no way to know if she’ll carry it to term. The fact that she lost a foal in an earlier pregnancy is the indicator that it could happen again. But you just don’t know.”
My eyes pricked with tears. Quickly, I blinked them back, embarrassed by my reaction. I’m not a crier, never have been. I work hard to keep that urge under tight control.
“There’s got to be something I can do for her,” I said.
“What you want to look for, Mary, are signs of distress. Placentitis is the typical risk for a mare. It’s caused by bacteria contaminating the cervix and entering the uterus. That’s probably what caused the miscarriage last time.”
“So tell me what I can do for her now.”
“You want to look for premature udder development, bagging up, long before the due date. Also look for streaming milk and vaginal discharge. Okay?”
“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll keep an eye out, contact you if I see anything that’s off. Are there any other tests to make sure she’s okay?”
“I know a vet in Macon County who can do an ultrasound. But I don’t necessarily recommend it. I’m not an advocate of bothering the mare with sonograms. If she develops an infection, we’ll treat it. Otherwise, just let nature take its course.”
My throat was tight. I coughed, to clear it. “Right.”
“You call me if something happens. But Mary, don’t be getting me out of bed again. Not unless it’s a damn emergency.”
“No promises,” I said.
When Troy left the barn, I stayed behind. I had my morning chores to attend to. Needed to feed Tornado and the cattle, and Foghorn Leghorn would be demanding my attention any minute. Before I started working, I went back to Tornado. Scratched behind her ears.
“It’s going to be all right, Mommy,” I told her. “Everything is going to be just fine.”
I wasn’t sure whether I was comforting her or reassuring myself.