Page 44 of Fake It Till You Make It

Eli nodded, glad he’d arrived to assist Belle with her first. A mare with experience in foaling would have delivered in that time. “The foal may be breach. If so, I have to rotate it to ease the birthing.”

“Huh, she seemed okay before now.” Matt leaned on the stall door. “Do you think she’s gonna lose it?”

“It’s her maiden foal. Hopefully, with help, they both will be fine. Let me get my jumper on.” Eli turned, looking at Amarie’s grim expression. “This may take a while. The first foaling can be unpredictable. If you want to leave, I can walk back down the mountain so that you can take the truck back to the clinic. Grab the keys from the overhead visor. Then take my truck and head into the office.”

“I wouldn’t miss a baby being born for anything.”

“I’m telling you, Amarie, it can get messy and smelly.”

“And I’m telling you not to worry about me.”

Ruth became visibly uneasy, and Eli immediately regretted his tone. The woman had to live on the edge with who she was married to. “Well, Phoebe and I have work to do in the house. See y’all at the wedding. Nice meeting you, Amarie.”

“You too,” Amarie called to Ruth’s retreating back. “What wedding?”

Eli chose to ignore the question, instead focusing on the job in front of him. He hadn’t decided if he wanted to parade his new fake partner around at Caleb and Gracie Lou’s wedding. Marriage should be sacred, no place for pretending, even if he wasn’t the groom at the altar.

“I’ll check her canal. Make sure the foal is turned in the right direction. Then Mom can do the rest. Amarie, you and your camera stay back.”

Eli slipped on a pair of gloves that went up above his elbows. When Matt helped to ease Belle down onto her side, the horse tried to protest, lifting up a little bit, but Matt dropped his weight onto her, talking in a low voice and soothing her.

Two hours slipped by after the repositioning. Amarie never complained about the unique scent of birthing foals or the dirt floor. But Eli noticed she’d fallen quiet. Her shoulders rounded as if a growing mass curled her spine.

“Need anything?”

“I’m hungry,” she said in a small voice.

“Matt,” Eli called. “If it’s okay with you, can Amarie slip into the house and maybe fix us up something to eat?”

“Whatever you bring, I’ll eat. My missus trained me toeat what’s put in front of me. I got a couple of drinks in a cooler on the back porch.”

Amarie sprang to her feet. “No problem, I’ll be right back.”

“Eli, I think you might’ve upgraded. This one is actually a keeper.”

Amarie returned with a warped wicker serving tray and a plastic grocer’s bag hanging off one shoulder. There were sandwiches piled high with ham and turkey. She had a couple of pickle spears, chips. Heck, she had whipped up a tossed salad for them.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” she breathed. “I brought a little bit of everything that I could find. There’s a couple of apples and bananas. A salad.”

Eli was so tired, he went over to the hose at the front of the barn.

“I’ll help,” she said, dropping all the fixings. Amarie sprayed off his arms. “Turn them over and I’ll make sure they’re clear of goo.”

“Thanks for this,” he rasped.

“You’re welcome. I don’t mind, I like being useful.”

And she was being helpful. When he sat down next to her, resting his back against a hay bale, he sighed in relief, his muscles tense.

“Here.” Amarie placed a sandwich in his grip.

Eli inhaled the first one.

Amarie laughed. “You have a big appetite.”

“I didn’t plan on being out here all day. Might have to push the other visit to another day.”

“Okay. Here, take another one.” Amarie tossed him a cellophane-wrapped bundle.