Chapter 6 - Rebecca
six
Rebecca
I wake up to Joseph shaking my shoulder, his face grim in the pre-dawn darkness.
"Rebecca. We've got a problem."
I'm instantly alert, three years of survival instincts kicking in. "Raiders?"
"No. Sunshine."
My blood turns to ice. I throw on clothes and follow him to the barn, where our beautiful chestnut mare is lying on her side, clearly in distress. Her breathing is labored, sweat darkening her coat, and she keeps looking at her flank with that expression horses get when something's seriously wrong.
"How long has she been like this?" I ask, already dropping to my knees beside her.
"Found her twenty minutes ago. She was fine last night."
I run my hands over her body, checking for injury, feeling for heat or swelling. My veterinary training kicks in automatically to assess the symptoms, consider the possibilities, form a diagnosis.
"It's colic," I say, my heart sinking. "Bad colic."
Joseph's face goes pale. "How bad?"
"I don't know yet. Could be a blockage that will resolve with treatment. Could be a twisted gut that..." I trail off, not wanting to voice the worst-case scenario.
"What do we do?"
"First, we get her up. She can't lie down or she might twist her intestines worse." I move to Sunshine's head, talking to her in soothing tones. "Come on, girl. I know you feel terrible, but you need to stand."
It takes both of us to get her on her feet, and once she's up, she immediately wants to lie back down. Joseph holds her lead rope while I examine her more thoroughly.
"Gums are pale, heart rate's fast." I press my ear to her flank, listening. "I can barely hear any gut sounds."
"In English?"
"Her intestines aren't working properly. Everything's backing up, causing pain." I stand, wiping sweat from my forehead. "We need to keep her walking and try to get things moving again."
"Surgery we can't do."
"Surgery we can't do," I confirm grimly.
The next few hours are a nightmare of constant walking.
We take turns leading Sunshine around the paddock, not letting her rest, not letting her roll or lie down no matter how much she wants to.
I force mineral oil down her throat through a tube I improvise from supplies in Joseph's workshop.
Every few minutes, I check her vital signs, looking for improvement.
There isn't any.
By noon, she's worse. Her pain is increasing, and I can see Joseph's growing desperation every time he looks at her.
"Rebecca," he says quietly when we switch positions. "Tell me the truth. Is she going to make it?"
I want to lie, want to give him false hope. But he deserves honesty.
"I don't know. If it's a blockage, the oil might help and she could get better soon. If her gut is twisted..." I swallow hard. "Then we'll have to decide if we can help her or if we're just letting her suffer."
His face crumbles for just a moment before he gets it under control. "She brought you to me."
"I know."
"If she dies..."
"She's not going to die." The words come out fiercer than I intended. "I won't let her."
"Rebecca—"
"No." I take Sunshine's lead rope from him, my jaw set with determination. "We're not giving up."
I spend the afternoon trying everything I can think of. More oil. Walking. Gentle massage of her abdomen to try to stimulate gut movement. I even attempted some acupressure points I remember from an alternative medicine elective.
Over the next hour, Sunshine's condition steadily improves. The pain lines around her eyes fade. She starts showing interest in her surroundings instead of just focusing inward on her discomfort.
"She's going to be okay," I tell Joseph, who's been watching anxiously from the corner of the stall.
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure." I run my hands over Sunshine's neck, feeling her relax under my touch. "She'll need a few days of easy feeding and close monitoring, but she's out of danger."
Joseph doesn't say anything. He just pulls me into his arms and holds me so tight I can barely breathe.
"I thought we were going to lose her," he whispers against my hair.
"So did I."
He pulls back to look at me, and there's something in his eyes I haven't seen before. A kind of awe mixed with love and gratitude.
"Marry me," he says suddenly.
I blink. "What?"
"Marry me. Tomorrow. Next week. I don't care when, but marry me. Because watching you save Sunshine, seeing you fight for her like that..." He cups my face in his hands. "You're incredible, Rebecca. And I want to spend the rest of my life watching you work miracles."
"Yes," I say, and I'm crying now, happy tears that I can't seem to stop. "Yes, of course, yes."
He kisses me then, soft and sweet and full of promises, while Sunshine munches contentedly on the small pile of hay I've allowed her.
"She really brought us together," I murmur against his mouth.
"Best horse thief I ever caught."
"The only horse thief you ever caught."