The Auction a Romance by Anna Erishkigal Page 43

  "She won't get up."

  "Then make her as comfortable as you can."

  I rushed back outside to find Pippa with her arms thrown around Luna's neck, weeping as she pleaded with the horse to be alright.

  "I'm so sorry, Luna! I didn't mean to make you sick!"

  I kneeled down next to her and placed my hand on Luna's neck next to hers.

  "It's not your fault, nipper. It's mine. I should have checked on her myself before we went off to buy grain."

  After some time, Thunderlane's nose shot up and with a quiet little 'woof' the dog raced out of the barn.

  "That would be Doctor Ryan."

  I stood, dusted off my jeans and went out to begin to explain the process of how we'd come in possession of such a dangerously emaciated pony. The vet was middle-aged, fit in that way all cattlemen are, with dark hair except for a few streaks of grey. He shook my hand and pointed towards the barn.

  "I thought the Bristow's sold off all their stock after the old man died?"

  "I bought a pony from the Lockyer auction yesterday," I said. "They warned us she so was so thin they thought we'd have a hard time bringing her back, but Pippa fell in love with her and I didn't have the heart to tell her no."

  The veterinarian gathered his things, more a toolbox than a traditional doctor's bag, and followed me into the barn, but it appeared he'd been here at some point in the past. Thunderlane led him right to the stall and stood there; his tail drooped, and whined. Doctor Ryan moved right into the stall with the quiet confidence all people have who work professionally with animals.

  "Hello, Miss Luna," Doctor Ryan said. "And this must be your mummy, Pippa Bristow."

  "Please, doctor." Pippa wiped at her eyes. "Can't you make Luna better?"

  He patted Luna and checked her eyes, ears and nostrils, and then pulled out his stethoscope and listened to her heartbeat and her tummy.

  "She sounds gassy," Doctor Ryan said. "That's a good sign. It means it's unlikely her bowel is obstructed."

  Oh, thank God! That was the excuse my mother used for killing Harvey.

  "Why won't she get up?" I asked.

  He ran his hand along her clearly visible ribs.

  "In horses like this, their electrolytes are out of balance. When you start to reintroduce food, their body doesn't know how to respond." He pinched Luna's skin and examined the way it wrinkled. "She's seriously dehydrated for one thing."

  "We gave her plenty of water."

  "You can't undo this kind of damage simply by giving her a drink," Doctor Ryan said. "It takes weeks, months, years to undo this severity of neglect." He rummaged in his doctor's toolbox. "I'll start her on some intravenous electrolytes to help her get the water where it needs to be."

  Luna didn't flinch when the doctor jabbed an IV into her neck and then wrapped a collar around it so she wouldn't pull it out. The IV tubing was round and springy like a slinky so it would move with her around the stall. Pippa watched everything he did, her eyes round with curiosity as he withdrew several vials of blood. He then found the freshest load of manure and poked through it with small, wooden stick.

  "She's also full of worms," he said.

  "The knacker told us he thought that might be the case," I said. "He said not to worm her for at least a week, to give her the chance to build her strength."

  "Wise man," Doctor Ryan said. "When a horse is this weak, a strong worming can sometimes kill them. With her this run down, you might have to wait two or three."

  He then checked out what else was wrong with Luna, took some notes, and then sent us to go find a block and tackle.

  "We have to get her up and walk her around," he said. "The longer she lies there with a colicky tummy, the more likely it is she'll die."

  In a working cattle station there is never a shortage of pulleys. I found a set and got a ladder to hook it to the beam which held up the hay loft above. After what seemed forever, we got some straps, the kind you use to tie down a load in a tractor trailer, under Luna's girth and wrapped them up around the block and tackle.

  "Hold the rope steady to act as an aid," Doctor Ryan said, "but don't use it to haul her up without her assistance or you'll hurt her."

  We hauled, and we pulled, and finally, when we thought we might have to give it up, Luna rose up and wavered, unsteadily on all four hooves. Pippa ran up and gave her horse a hug.

  "See, Luna. Everything's going to be okay."

  My mobile buzzed. I almost jumped. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw I had two bars, not enough for a phone call, but enough that someone had been able to text message me. Rather than answer it, I aimed the camera app at the veterinarian and Luna.

  "Excuse me," I said to Doctor Ryan. "Would you mind, uh, standing over there next to Pippa and Luna? I, uh, asked some friends to help me pay for her rescue and they, uh, they're going to ask where the money all went."

  Thank God the veterinarian was good-natured enough to let me take his picture. That pragmatic part of me I'd inherited from my mother noted he was handsome and the same approximate age as many of the women who'd written to donate money. I shook his hand and thanked him, and then wrote a $487 check for a vet-call to the station. His hourly rate was surprisingly cheap, only $20 an hour plus travel time to and from the station. Most of the expense was the electrolytes and equipment which were expensive as hell.

  Cold, numb hatred, turned rancid from six years in my belly, forced me to clench my fist as I stared at the veterinarian's hourly breakdown. Twenty dollars. It would have cost $20 to have the vet stay for Harvey's final moments.

  "Is everything okay, Miss Xalbadora?" Doctor Ryan asked, misinterpreting my frown to mean I disputed his bill.

  "No," I said, my voice tight. "Your rates are very reasonable."

  "I'll be back tomorrow to check on her," Doctor Ryan said. "In the meantime, if she goes down again, you might want to drag out an old mattress for her to lie down upon. At a 1% body mass index, you need to keep her warm.

  I smiled and thanked him. And then as soon as he left, I went indoors to upload the pictures, as well as photographs of the $487 veterinary bill, to my new friends. It was more socialization than I'd done in my entire life, but I was determined to make sure the same thing didn't happen to Pippa's horse as had happened to my own.

  Chapter 46

  I wanted to tell Adam the truth, but Pippa knew, as well as I did, that her father would be upset we'd brought home a horse without discussing it with him. I couldn't lie to him. I just didn't have it in me. So I handed the phone to Pippa to let her break the news. Only she didn't. Pippa, it seemed, had learned the fine art of obfuscating the truth from her mother, and for once in my life I was glad Pippa took a little bit after Eva Jackson.

  I cringed as Pippa handed the phone back to me.

  'Please don't tell him anything,' she mouthed the words.

  My voice warbled as I said "Hello?"

  "Good evening, Miss Rosamond." Adam's voice sounded warm, and wonderful, and oh-so-tired and caring. "And what have you and the manic elf been doing all day that she sounds so excited?"

  "We've been, uh, having a science lesson."

  "Oh? More cellular structure of tomato plants?"

  "Equine anatomy," I said softly.

  "Is that what all those cut-out pictures were all about she plastered all over her wall?" Adam laughed.

  "Something like that." I grew silent.

  "Rosie?"

  "Yes."

  "Is everything okay?"

  "Yeah," I said. "I'm just tired. Pippa's new project has been wearing me out."

  I knew he'd assume I meant redecorating Pippa's bedroom.

  Adam fell silent.

  "Rosie?"

  "Yes."

  "Thank you."

  Tears welled in my eyes. I felt like a jerk for withholding the truth.

  "Good luck with Professor Dingle tomorrow," I said.

  I hung up the phone. It's pretty bad when you rely on a 10-year-old to be a better liar than you a
re.

  *

  The next time we went out into the barn, we discovered Luna sprawled helplessly on the floor, groaning in pain as her poor, distended belly shuddered with every single breath. Pippa began to cry.

  "You heard what the vet said," I said. "Help me drag out the mattress."

  "My mattress is too small."

  "We'll drag out the big one off of my bed."

  "Daddy will be angry."

  "Daddy's already going to be angry," I said. "He can take it out of my paycheck."

  I stripped the linens. We pulled the full-sized mattress off of her grandmother's bed, shoved it down the hall, out the door, and dragged it across the courtyard to bring it into the barn. It was filthy by the time we got it there, but it didn't matter. There was no way it was coming back into the house after we used it for a horse's bed.

  We slid the slings underneath Luna and Pippa coaxed her to stand while I pulled on the block and pulley. She stood for a while on her own and we massaged her neck, back and withers, careful to avoid the IV full of electrolytes, but soon she began to paw the ground and put her head down, the surest sign of colic in a horse. It was all we could do to shove her to lay on the mattress instead of the hay when she finally went down the third time.

  "Get the blanket, Pippa."

  "Luna says she's really cold."

  "Then we'll get her another one."

  "I'll get the one that used to be on my bed," Pippa said.

  "Your grandmother made that one. Daddy will be angry if we wreck it."

  "We wrecked the bed."

  "We can replace the mattress," I said. "We can't replace the quilt your grandmother pieced together out of your Uncle Jeffrey's old jeans. Let me look in the closet. I'm sure I can find some blankets."

  I left Pippa sitting on the mattress patting Luna's neck. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but when it came to giving comfort to her dying pony, the kid instinctively knew what to do.

  I dug through the storage closet and found some older blankets. I grabbed those, as well as a couple of pillows, and made two trips back out to the barn.

  "Why the pillows?" Pippa asked.

  "Do you want leave her in here alone?"

  "No."

  "Okay," I said. "Well I'm not leaving you alone, so that means we'll both just have to stay."

  We curled up, Pippa against her pony's back, me holding Pippa, and all three of us spent the night on the floor of the barn.

  *

  Tuesday morning, Luna was still alive. I changed the plastic bag of full of liquid and electrolytes the vet had left with directions to change every time it got empty, and then went into the house to rustle up some breakfast. I made Pippa come in to wash up and eat. We were both tired, and filthy, and despondent about Luna's chances of survival.

  I called the vet to update him on Luna's progress. He said he'd be back at eleven o'clock.

  "I'm going back outside," Pippa said.

  "I'll be out in a minute."

  I went into Adam's bedroom, itself a violation of an unspoken rule about not violating his privacy, and uploaded the latest pictures of Pippa lying next to Luna, buried in blankets on her grandmother's mattress, her arm around Luna as she begged her horse to pull through. I posted a status update on Facebook.

  .

  Hi everybody.

  Just want to give you all an update. Luna went down again around 8:00pm last night. We got her up again, but then she went down and stayed. We put a mattress under her and covered her up because, with 1% body fat, the cool air will stress her further. Pippa couldn't bear to leave her, so we spent the night in the barn.

  The vet's coming back at 11:00. I hope he knows what to do. Pray for her everybody, okay? Pippa will be heartbroken if her horse doesn't pull through.

  Rosie.

  P.S. - thanks for everybody who donated. I paid the vet, but there will be another bill today. Every little bit helps, and I'll post the bills.

  *

  The only way I could lure Pippa into the house for supper was to remind her that her father would be worried and drive all the way home from Brisbane if we didn't answer the phone. Adam had to be in court at 9:00 tomorrow morning to fend off Eva's attempt to fire me. The last thing he needed was to worry about a dying pony.

  "Is everything okay, Rosie?" Adam asked when Pippa handed the phone back to me. "Pippa seems unusually perky."

  I stared at the sad-faced, gaunt-looking waif whose eyes were red-rimmed from crying. She'd put on an award-winning performance to convince her father we'd spent the day out in the barn cutting out furniture for her dollhouse. I couldn't lie to him. I just … couldn't. But I'd been around my mother long enough to learn how to avoid telling the truth.

  Deflect. Avoid. Obfuscate.

  "So how did your meeting go with Roberta Dingle today?"

  Adam grew silent. It seemed there were things he didn't feel like talking about, either. His voice sounded tight.

  "It went, okay."

  The silence stretched between us.

  "I'm really tired, Adam. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  "Goodnight, Adam."

  "Goodnight, Miss Rosamond."

  "Good luck in court tomorrow," I said.

  I hung up the phone. Pippa and I headed back out to the barn to change Luna's IV

  *

  Harvey carried me straight to the river even though I tried to rein him in a different direction.

  "No, Harvey! I don't want to talk to him right now!"

  Harvey had always been a well-mannered horse, but every now and again he'd get it into his head that the grass was greener someplace else, and then there was no stopping him no matter how hard you pulled on the reins. He carried me down the riverbank, down onto the beach, where the river had sunk to the lowest point so far. Adam sat, waiting, and rose as soon as he saw me. He looked tired, and perplexed, and wounded that for the last four mornings I'd avoided meeting him in his dreams.

  "Adam," I whispered.

  Thunderlane growled.

  I opened my eyes, disoriented at the sight of the coarse, brown ceiling, until I remembered we were in the barn. Pippa lay in my arms, and in turn Luna lay in hers. The white pony's side heaved and fell, but she did not seem to be in as much pain as last night, nor did she moan every time she exhaled.

  Thunderlane growled again. He rose, his tail stabbing straight out like an arrow, put down his ears and bared his fangs.

  "Thunderlane?"

  I slid my arm out from underneath Pippa's head.

  "Rosie?"

  "It's okay, nipper." I kissed the top of her head. "I think maybe the vet came back early."

  I sat up and stared into the perfect, porcelain features of Eva Bristow-Jackson.

  Chapter 47

  "Well, well, well," Eva sneered. "Of all the dirt I expected my private investigator to dig up, I never dreamed you'd be stupid enough to post pictures on Facebook of forcing my daughter to sleep in a barn."

  I blinked, disoriented. Through the stable door I could see the sun hadn't even yet risen fully above the horizon.

  "What time is it?" I asked, not certain this wasn't just another one of my prescient dreams.

  "Six o'clock," Eva said. "I came to fetch Pippa to testify against you in court to get you fired though, honestly, after this scene, I dare say the judge will just give full custody back to me."

  Pippa opened her eyes and blinked, even more disoriented than I was. She sat up and placed her hand on Luna's neck.

  "Mommy?"

  Eva wrinkled her nose in disgust. Neither Pippa nor I had found an opportunity to bathe and we were both filthy and ripe, to say the least.

  "But first, you're going to go into the house and get cleaned up," Eva said. "I don't want to have to smell you all the way back to Brisbane."

  I stared at the tall, blonde beauty who had taken it upon herself to use her father's vast fortune to 'sic a private investigator on me and hack my Facebook account rather than go see a shrink so her husband wo
uld take her back.

  Fake blonde. Not real, like Pippa.

  For some reason that knowledge gave me strength.

  "Pippa's not going anywhere until I call Adam."

  "You have no choice."

  "There is always a choice." My eyes narrowed. "Where's the constable? You can't take her without a subpoena."

  Pippa rose to her feet and stood behind me, eyes wide, and gripped the back of her arm.

  "Don't let her take me," Pippa whispered loudly enough for her mother to hear.

  "She just told you no, Eva. The court ordered she doesn't have to see you until the judge says otherwise!"

  Eva frowned.

  "I've come to take her to testify in court on my behalf."

  "Adam has full custody," I said. "I'll be damned if I let you take his daughter anywhere without his permission."

  "I'm her mother," Eva hissed. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

  "You're the woman who promised your kid a horse for Christmas," I said, "and then stood her up on Christmas Eve because you were pissed Adam took me to the dance instead of you. Adam will rot in hell before he lets you do that to Pippa ever again. So where's your summons? Otherwise I'll have to call our police chief and ask him to remove you from Adam's land. You do remember Harold, don't you Eva? The cop who threatened to arrest you after you made a scene at Pippa's grandmother's funeral?"

  "This station is half mine!" Eva shrieked.

  "Not until the judge says it is!"

  "You're nothing but a teacher! What right do you have to stand between me and my husband?"

  "Your husband?" I laughed. "It's all about Adam, isn't it? He gives, and you take, and take and take and take, and now that he's finally gotten sick of being used, all of a sudden you realized you want him after all?"

  "How dare you!" Eva gave me her best approximation of The Look. She gestured to Pippa. "Come here, sweetheart. I bought Flying Dutchman for you. As soon as you tell the judge you want to come live with me in Brisbane, we'll go to your new riding stable to ride him."

  Pippa waivered.

  "Remember what my mother did with Harvey," I warned her.

  Pippa ducked to stand behind me.