Chapter 3
The glow of dawn had just begun to caress the horizon, casting a faint pink hue over Brianna’s tranquil backyard.
With swaying palm trees and an abundance of tropical blooms, it was a scene of perfect serenity with the early light promising the sort of clear day she loved most. Having awoken at five, she was now sitting cross-legged in the shade of the verandah, enjoying her habitual hit of caffeine as the warmth of the cup seeped pleasantly into her palms. She felt a delicious sense of calm that only such early hours seemed to bring, a stillness that was the perfect companion to her quiet thoughts.
After running around like a lunatic, chasing his ball with abandon, Sherlock was now fast asleep at her side, his little doggy snores adorable and endearing.
They were muffled but rhythmic, matching the gentle thrum of the world waking up around them.
Perhaps, she thought, this was what she’d been seeking all along, a place she could call her very own where peace was not so much found as it was ever-present, a constant she could rely on.
Riverstone Ridge had given her that sense, the feeling of comfort and home and reliability, but it wasn’t her forever.
It couldn’t be. Instead, her parents’ beautiful property had been her bridge between youth and real adulthood.
But now the responsibilities were all her own, and she liked it.
A lot.
The small town’s silence was abruptly interrupted when her phone erupted with the catchy melody she’d chosen for her work mobile – Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’.
The shrill sound cut harshly through the delicate morning, the suddenness of it sending a jolt of adrenaline through her.
Her heart quickened as she reached for the phone.
Considering it wasn’t even six o’clock yet, instinctively she knew it couldn’t be good.
Lifting the phone to her ear, she braced for news that would sweep away the calm and call her swiftly to action, and in that very moment she was reminded, with a thrill of excitement, why she’d chosen this life, this place.
‘Hello, Sweetwater Vets, Brianna speaking.’
‘Hi, Brianna.’ Hayden Pierce’s voice was sharp and immediate, confirming her suspicions.
‘That mare you came to check on yesterday …’ His voice exuded an air of confidence, as one would expect from a man who ran one of the most successful studs in the region, but there were also lashings of concern.
‘It looks like she’s going into labour early, and she’s struggling. ’
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ she said immediately. ‘Are you with her now?’
‘Yes, of course, I’ve been with her for half the night, hoping all would go well, but she’s taken a turn for the worse.’
‘Okay, I’ll see you soon.’ Brianna’s heart clenched, her mind already racing with potential complications and scenarios, as she ended the call.
She set her cup down then quickly rose to her feet before gently patting Sherlock awake. The loyal collie sprung to life, his intelligent eyes locking onto hers. ‘I’ve got to get to work, buddy, a horse needs me.’
Her senses were instantly heightened as she raced into the house with Sherlock hot on her heels, her mind racing through what might be necessary for this emergency.
With practised efficiency, her fingers glided over the contents of her veterinary kit, carefully making sure the necessary bottles of medication were there, alongside essential tools such as syringes and bandages.
And as she secured the bag shut, its leather creaked in familiar accompaniment.
With her faithful four-legged companion watching intently, she dressed swiftly in sturdy jeans, a button-up shirt and well-worn boots.
Tugging her long hair up and into a ponytail, she didn’t bother looking at herself before she bid Sherlock a quick goodbye – he couldn’t come with her to this callout.
Then, making sure he was locked safely in the backyard, she hurried around the side of the cottage and to her Hilux.
Turning the key in the ignition, she felt the engine roar to life, and she quickly reversed down the drive.
The sun climbed steadily, painting the sky in vibrant swathes of scorching gold as she closed the gap between the small centre of town and Sweetwater Acres.
Sticking to the speed limit even though every part of her wanted to go faster, she watched the rugged beauty of the terrain flash by in bold, breathtaking colours.
It was as though an artist had taken to the countryside with a vivid palette, each brushstroke an ode to the life and love that blossomed beneath the vast, endless sky.
The boundless sweep of green paddocks kissed by the morning haze stretched like a quilt across the land, while the lazy river – that drew the crowds in summer, Molly had told her – snaked through thickets and low-lying hills.
This was the world she’d hoped for when she’d left Riverstone Ridge, another landscape where nature ruled with unyielding beauty, one where she could hopefully carve her own place.
But right now she didn’t have time to stop and admire it fully.
Slowing at a junction, she turned onto the gravel driveway leading to Sweetwater Acres and, passing through the gates, bumped over a cattle grid.
The crunch beneath the tyres resonated as her mind flickered with memories of the previous day – her first encounter with Bella, and of Hayden’s searching eyes, the intensity of which had lingered with her long after.
A sense of deep heartache seemed to shadow his every move, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him.
Moments later Hayden met her halfway across the stable yard, his long stride urgent but composed. The early sunlight threw shadows across his face, carving sharp lines into his stubbled jawline. There was sweat at his temples, but his eyes were steady, focused, controlled.
‘She’s in breech,’ he said before she’d even opened her mouth. ‘Hind legs only. No forelegs, no muzzle. She started pushing just over twenty minutes ago, but she’s getting weaker fast.’
Brianna’s gut clenched. Not because she doubted him. If anything, his clarity under pressure made her heart thump harder, because she knew how precarious this could be. ‘You didn’t try to reposition?’
His brow lifted. ‘Didn’t want to risk it without you.’
She nodded once, not wasting another second. ‘Let’s go.’
Inside the stall, Bella was on her side, flanks twitching, eyes wild with pain.
Her sides rose and fell in jagged waves.
The foal wasn’t coming, not properly, and the longer he stayed trapped, the more dangerous it became.
Brianna moved to her side without hesitation, snapping on gloves as Hayden crouched at the mare’s head again, murmuring low, calming words.
‘She trusts you,’ Brianna noted, kneeling.
Hayden didn’t look at her. ‘And I trust you.’
The words struck her harder than they should have as she forced her focus down to Bella.
Her examination was quick and practised, and confirmed everything Hayden had said. ‘Posterior presentation. Hind legs are here, but the head’s not in position. The foal’s coming backwards.’
Hayden met her eyes across the mare’s trembling body. ‘Cord?’
‘Still pulsing, but not for long.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m going to try to reposition.’
‘Righto, I’ll try and keep her calm.’
She didn’t need to ask if he knew what repositioning meant; he was already whispering into Bella’s ear, pressing his forehead lightly to hers as if lending her his strength.
It was too intimate, too tender for the urgency of the moment, and it sent something through Brianna that rattled her, but she pushed it down and got to work.
Sweat beaded on her brow as she manoeuvred one delicate hind leg, then the other, into a safer angle.
Bella moaned, body convulsing around the effort.
Hayden murmured something to his horsey friend, a low promise in a voice filled with quiet desperation.
‘You’re doing good,’ Brianna whispered to both horse and owner. ‘We’re almost there.’
Another contraction. Time was running out.
‘All right.’ Brianna’s voice was clipped with tension. ‘Next push, we pull. Steady and in sync.’
Hayden moved into position opposite her, his hand gripping Bella’s flank just above hers. Their arms brushed briefly, warm skin, electric contact, and for one breathless second she was far too aware of him.
‘Ready?’ she asked.
He met her gaze, intense and sure. ‘With you.’
The contraction hit like a wave.
‘Now!’ she bellowed.
Together they pulled, their strength and precision perfectly aligned. Bella’s whinnies were laced with pain, and her body was arching. The foal inched out, bit by agonising bit, slick and trembling, still encased in the sheen of birth.
‘Keep going, just a little more!’ Brianna exclaimed.
One final heave, and the foal slipped free into the straw with a wet gasp.
Brianna was already on him, clearing the nostrils, massaging his tiny chest, praying silently. ‘Come on, little guy. Don’t make us lose you now.’
And then a shudder, a twitch, a glorious sputtering breath. The colt lifted his head weakly and let out a fragile, perfect whinny. She laughed then, a raw, choked sound, relief crashing into her like a wave.
Across from her, Hayden exhaled two words. ‘Thank god.’
Brianna looked up now, and for the first time met his eyes fully.
Something flickered between them, something much more than relief.
Much more than shared triumph. It was connection, forged in urgency, solidified in the quiet aftermath.
She should look away. She meant to. But his gaze held hers, too steady and too damn honest.
‘Thank you,’ he said, voice low.
‘You don’t have to thank …’