Cole Brennan's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

The remedy sat in Cole's hands, but the mare could barely stand. Ty Fleming, the vet who'd traced the poison to the creek, knelt beside her in the quarantine barn. He pressed two fingers to her neck and counted her pulse. "Weak," he said. "If I dose her wrong, her heart stops. If I don't dose her, the sickness takes her by morning." He looked up at Cole. "Your call. She may not survive either road." Cole watched the mare shiver. She was the mare he'd chosen to carry his dream, the foundation of the champion line he wanted to breed. Losing her set him back a year. Losing her might break the whole plan. But a dead mare bred nothing. "Do it," Cole said. "Give her the chance." Ty opened the care kit and laid out his tools in a neat row. He measured a careful dose from the corked bottles, tapping each drop into a syringe. "Hold her head," he said. "Steady. No sudden moves." Cole gripped the halter. The mare's ribs heaved under his arm. Ty slid the needle in slow and pushed the plunger. Cole held his breath and waited for her heart to fail. The puppy pressed against the mare's front leg and would not move. Cole had found the Aussie following him around the barn for days, and the pup had chosen the sick mare over everyone. Ty didn't stop there. He hung a drip line, wrapped her in blankets, and mixed a warm mash she could swallow. "The remedy fights the poison," he said. "The rest keeps her alive while it works." Through the night, the pup stayed at her side and licked her muzzle. The first day, nothing changed. The mare lay flat and breathed in shallow pulls. Ty returned each morning, checked her pulse, and adjusted the dose. Cole slept in the aisle on a bale of straw. He watched her chest rise and counted, the way Ty had shown him. On the third morning, the mare lifted her head. She reached for the mash and ate. Her eyes cleared. The puppy jumped up and licked her face, tail whipping, and she didn't pull away. Cole ran his hand down her neck and felt warmth return to her coat. Ty pressed his fingers to her pulse and smiled. "Steady," he said. "She turned the corner. Another day and we'd have lost her." He packed his kit slow. "She'll recover now. But she's spent. She can't carry a foal this season. Build her back first, or you'll lose her for good." Cole nodded. The mare was alive. His breeding plan had a heart beating in it again. But the champion line would have to wait, and he had a long spring of feeding and rest ahead before she was strong enough to try.