It Took a Rumor (17 page)

Cody studied her for a moment. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. You go on home before you get into trouble.”

After a long second, he said, “Okay. Thank you, Ivy.”

“No problem.”

Dallas only wanted to make the cows sick. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought past the point of slowing down business enough to encourage Gideon to sell to Turner. It didn’t occur to him that the hemlock might affect some of the pregnant cattle.

There had been three miscarriages so far, and some of the other cows were showing signs of sickness.
 

The other thing Dallas hadn’t accounted for was the horses.
 

When he’d taken the bags of weeds for Jake, he’d realized that he didn’t know how much he needed to make a significant impact on the cattle. Maybe a few handfuls wouldn’t be enough. So he’d dropped the bags off in a part of the woods where no one would be visiting, and told Jake that the deed was done. Later, he’d spread some of the dried weeds in the grass where the cattle were grazing. But as he watched, he saw that most of the cows were avoiding it.
 

So he took the mulcher out to the weeds, mulched them up, and sprinkled two bags’ worth in the feeders. That did the trick.

Except somehow, Jake’s pregnant mare, Eloise, must have eaten some of it. Now, Jake was on his knees with Eloise’s head in his lap, crying while the vet worked to help deliver the premature foal. Night was falling. Boone turned on the lights in the stables, filling the room with a buzzing, white light.
 

“It’s okay, girl,” Jake said, over and over. Silent tears spilled down his otherwise stoic face. He looked over at the vet. “She’s been acting sick all day.”

“Mmm,” the vet, a man Gideon’s age, but with a kind, bespectacled face. His kind face suddenly turned severe. “Shit. It’s breech.”

He began pushing the foal back in in order to try and turn it. The mare bucked and whinnied. Jake stroked her and hushed her. “Everything’s gonna be all right,” he said soothingly.
 

Dallas stood back in the shadows, sick to his stomach. The lights were too harsh and accusatory for Dallas. Cody was running around fetching anything the vet wanted and making sure Jake stayed hydrated. Gideon was cleaning up, trying to be useful. Boone was pacing.

“She’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, girl,” Jake said.

Dallas felt like throwing up.
 

“Have you been riding her?” the vet asked through strained teeth.

“No, sir. I quit when she was about four months along.” Jake looked up at his brothers. “Any of you ridden her lately?”

They all shook their heads. They could have been angry at him for asking such a stupid question. Of course they hadn’t ridden her. She was Jake’s. But the man was in distress, so no one, not even Gideon, was going to further upset him by arguing unnecessarily.

The vet’s assistant was late in arriving. He hurried to the vet’s side to help. With a grunt of satisfaction, the vet pulled his hands out of the mare and breathed hard. “Got her. Being premature, she’s small. That’s one blessing, I guess.”

“Will she survive? The foal, I mean?” Jake asked.

“We’ll see.”

Eloise panted and occasionally whinnied. The foal came slowly at first and then slid the rest of the way out. The doctor immediately started checking her vitals. Dallas held his breath. Looking around, he noticed everyone else holding their breath too. Jake’s eyes were locked on the foal while his hands continued stroking Eloise. The only sounds were Eloise’s stilted huffs and the evening wind rattling the panels on the roof.
 

“Well, what do you know?” the vet said with a smile. “She’s breathing. Right on schedule.”

Everyone watched the first risings and fallings of the foal’s chest. Dallas closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks.
 

The vet moved away from the foal and stood, stretching and rolling his shoulders. “The next hour will tell. Hopefully momma will pass the placenta just fine and baby will stand up. But she looks pretty good, Jake. Definitely some lack of development, but not nearly as bad as we’d feared. I’d say she’d have come on her own in a week or so.”

For Dallas, it was like the storm clouds of judgment parting and offering him reprieve. But then he looked at Jake, who was intently staring at Eloise, stroking her mane and muttering to her. “Doc, she’s gone limp,” Jake said.

The vet immediately knelt next to the mare and started checking her vitals. Her whole body seemed to be trembling. Dallas leaned back against the wall.
 

The vet moved up to check Eloise’s face. “She’s showing late signs of poisoning. We weren’t looking for it because of the foaling. Shit. Ricky, go to the truck, bring in the stomach tube and some of that charcoal. Jake, you move on aside.”

“Is she gonna make it?” Jake asked. His face was devoid of color.

“We’re gonna do our best, but I’m guessing there’s not much left in her stomach. At this point, probably not much to do but hope she survives as it runs its course.”

Jake moved out from under Eloise’s head, gently resting it on the floor. He stood back, but not very far.

The vet fed the tube down Eloise’s throat and sent down some of the powdered charcoal to hopefully absorb any toxins still in her digestive system.

“She’s breathing on her own,” the vet muttered.

“That’s good,” Jake said. It was half question.

“Yes. Her heart rate’s high, but not dangerously so, at least not for now. We’re just going to watch her for a while. Ricky, take some blood, get to the lab, see if you can find out what happened here.”
 

Ricky, the assistant, hurried back to the truck, returning with needles and a tourniquet. While he was busy doing that, the vet stood and turned to address everyone. “That foal is going to need milk, and Eloise is in no position to nurse.”

“I’ve got a bottle in here somewhere,” Gideon muttered. He disappeared into a nook where they stored a bunch of miscellaneous supplies.

“The Turner’s have had a couple foalings,” the vet said.

“I’ll text Ivy,” Boone said, whipping out his phone. A few seconds later he smiled. “She says they bagged some colostrum for the freezer. She’s bringing it over right now.”

Gideon appeared, then. “I’ll be damned if I accept help from that son-of-a-bitch. What about the Gleasons? I’m sure they got a nursing mare.”

“Ivy’s on her way,” Jake said sternly.
 

“Then I’ll send her ass back where she came from. I don’t want no Turner on my prop—”

“It’s not your call!” Jake shouted. “The Gleasons live twenty minutes away. Ivy’s on her way now. This is my mare, my foal, my call!”

Gideon turned red all the way to his ears. But if there was one thing he hated more than being talked-back-to by one of his sons, it was letting outsiders witness family business. The look Gideon gave Jake promised a near-future conversation that would definitely not go well for poor Jake. In that moment, though Jake didn’t appear to give a shit.

Ivy actually took a few minutes longer than everyone expected. During that time, the foal began moving, trying to stand. Its umbilical cord broke and the vet applied iodine to the stump, but otherwise left it alone. Dallas was silently rooting for the little gal to get up on her feet. If they lost Eloise, he’d never forgive himself, but if the foal survived, at least there would be some light amidst all the darkness.

Dallas turned toward the sound of a pickup truck. He peeked out the stable door. Dusk was settling and Ivy’s headlights appeared over the hill, her truck bouncing with the dips and ruts in the field. When she pulled up next to the door, Dallas saw that she’d brought her father.
 

Ivy hopped out of the driver’s seat, bottle in hand, and hurried past Dallas into the stables. “Already got it warmed up,” she said, handing it to the vet.
 

“Thank you, Ivy, that’s a big help,” the vet said. “Looks like she’s just about to stand. We’ll wait until she does to feed her.”

Jared Turner walked in the door, not far behind his daughter. How old man Turner could withstand the hatred evident in Gideon’s countenance was beyond Dallas’s understanding. Clearly his father wanted nothing more than to beat Jared to a bloody pulp.
 

But Jared merely shot him a friendly smile and nod before approaching Jake. To Dallas’s surprise, Jake met Jared halfway, hand extended. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

“That’s what neighbors are for,” Jared responded, shaking Jake’s hand and giving him a pat on the back.

Jake turned to Ivy, hand extended. But for some reason, she folded her arms over her chest, refusing the gesture. Dallas couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders were tense and her head tilted up, blond ponytail hanging severely down her neck. Jake frowned, dropping his hand. “Thank you, too, ma’am,” he said.

Ivy shook her head, what sounded like a snort of disgust accompanying the gesture. Jake glanced back at Gideon before taking another step backwards, away from the Turners.

“Guys, she’s gonna make it,” Cody said.
 

Everyone turned to watch the foal take its first, shaky stand. Jake fell to his knees in front of it, grinning like a proud papa. “Good girl. You’re such a strong girl.” The vet put the bottle in Jake’s hands. He held it about utter level, squeezing a little of the colostrum out of the nipple. The foal licked hesitantly at first, then latched right on and suckled.

“She’s making it easy on us,” the vet said with a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful, because you’re gonna have a long night with Eloise.”

Jake stood, holding the bottle in his left hand, shaking the vet’s hand with his right. “I appreciate this so much, doc.”

“It’s what I do. Unless I get called away, I’ll stay and monitor Eloise tonight.”

“Thank you.”

The vet sat next to Eloise, stroking her neck and occasionally checking her pulse. Now that all the tension had died down, Dallas felt a sick guilt coating his soul like a layer of scum on a shower wall. Boone was the first to go.

“I’m exhausted,” he said. “I’m gonna get some sleep, then get up early and take a shift with Eloise.”

“Thanks,” Jake said to Boone. It wasn’t grudging at all. In fact, he hugged his little brother. He hugged Cody, too, who promised to take a middle-of-the-night shift. Dallas gulped down the lump of nausea and approached his big brother who had dried tear streaks down his cheeks. Jake hadn’t cried since they were children, not so Dallas could see anyway.
 

“I’m real sorry about all this,” Dallas said, his throat husky.

Jake’s brow furrowed. “Hey, it’s not your fault.” He brought Dallas into a hug, not having a clue he was embracing Judas. “Besides, she’s gonna be fine. She’s strong, she’ll pull through.”

Dallas left the stables. Halfway home, he fell to his knees and started vomiting. And kept vomiting. Darkness was falling all around, so it wasn’t until just before he blacked out that he realized he was losing consciousness.

There had been nothing but gossip being spoken in town that day. Jake had made a trip to the feed store and the market that afternoon. News about Molly Allen was everywhere. People expressed their concern for poor Pastor Allen before diving into the speculation on suspects. The police didn’t have anyone in mind, but that didn’t mean the average citizen about town didn’t have plenty of ideas.

The other piece of gossip released on Myra’s blog that day had concerned Ivy and Cody. When Jake had heard that, he’d burst out laughing. It was too ridiculous to believe. Suddenly, he felt like an idiot for ever thinking she was sleeping with all of them. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t do that. He also knew that if she did, she wouldn’t have gotten caught three times in a row. No, something else was going on. Could be better than her sleeping with his brothers, could be worse. Whatever it was, she didn’t wanna tell him, and that was that.

So he’d gone home with his supplies, still mooning over Ivy and wondering what might happen with her. That evening, when he’d found Eloise in labor, his whole world turned upside down. He’d been surprised that the first person he wanted at his side was Ivy. The whole time he’d been sitting there comforting Eloise, he’d been wishing for comfort from Ivy. Wishing for her to stroke his hair and tell him everything was going to be okay, same as he was doing with his mare.
 

Instead, he’d gotten a cold shoulder.

It wasn’t surprising. He knew what she wanted as soon as he’d extended his hand to her. She wanted him to embrace her. Acknowledge her. Need her. Want her. She wanted all of that out in the open. She didn’t want to be denied like Peter did to Jesus. She wanted to be openly accepted.

As he stood in the middle of the stables watching her back as she walked away, he knew she was right to reject him. He was being a coward. Gideon had questioned him over milk for the foal and Jake had stood strong against him. But when it came to Ivy, he cowered, avoiding confrontation at all cost. It was no wonder she was angry with him.

“If there’s anything more we can do…” Jared was saying to Gideon.

“You can get the hell off my property,” Gideon snarled.

Jake turned sharply, even as Ivy froze her exit.

Clara covered her face in her hands—likely because she couldn’t physically insert her head into the sand.

“Gideon, I don’t know what I did to upset you, but we’re just trying to help,” Jared said.

“You know what I think?” Gideon replied, moving close to face-off with Jared. “That there mare was poisoned somehow, and I think you was the one to do it. You want our land and you’ll do anything to get it.”

Jared laughed. “Are you serious? Why would I do that? How could poisoning Jake’s mare help me get your property?”

“I’m sure this ain’t the whole plan. I’m sure you got other things in mind. But I’ll burn this land and salt the ground before I let you get your slimy hands on it.”

Ivy stormed forward, standing just a step behind her father. “We’ve done nothing but help—”

“I’ll thank you to keep your little girl in line, Turner,” Gideon said, not looking at Ivy. “Seems she enjoys causing trouble. I don’t much appreciate her sniffing around my boys.”