Page 39 of The Magic of Provence (A Year in France #3)
Bouton wasn’t dead.
She was, however, very sick.
Noah was left to cope with the barbecue alone. Christophe carried Bouton back into La Maisonette and Julien went to fetch both their medical kits. Ellie and Laura looked after the children next door. And Fi…?
Fi knelt as close as she could to the little donkey foal who had stolen such a large part of her heart over the last few months.
When Christophe had finished shining a torch into Bouton’s eyes and checking the colour of her gums and had his stethoscope against her ribs, Fi wriggled closer so that she could keep Bouton’s head on her lap and stroke her face and scratch her gently under her chin, just behind her muzzle with the smudge on top.
It was one of Bouton’s favourite ways to be petted but she wasn’t about to nibble Fi’s arm or clothes with her velvety lips to let her know how much she was enjoying it.
The effort of even lifting her head was too much.
And then she coughed, a dry sound that was so unusual it made Fi blink.
‘How did she get so sick, so quickly?’ she asked, in disbelief. ‘I know she didn’t want much milk this morning but we’re well into weaning her, so I wasn’t worried. What did I miss?’
Christophe took out the earpieces of his stethoscope. ‘She’s got crackles in both her lungs,’ he told Fi. ‘She’s breathing too fast and her temperature’s high. I think she has pneumonia and that can be hard to spot until it becomes serious.’
‘Oh… God …’ Fi had to squeeze her eyes shut for a heartbeat. ‘I know how dangerous that is for foals.’
Bouton was in real danger of dying and Fi could feel her heart trying to break already.
‘I’m going to call Martine,’ Christophe said. ‘And get her advice on the best treatment.’ He crouched in front of Fi and waited for her to lift her gaze to his. ‘We may still have caught this early enough.’
He had a long conversation with Martine on his phone. A video call so that she could see the foal. It wasn’t until the call was ended that he translated any of it for Fi.
‘This is the age that foals are most likely to get pneumonia,’ he told her.
‘The immunity that comes from colostrum is fading and their own immune systems are not strong enough yet. It’s also the time of year that it’s most likely, because of the summer heat.
It could be either viral or bacterial, but it’s more likely that it’s bacterial because the organism lives in the soil and it’s very dusty out in the olive grove.
We will take a blood sample to test but we will start her on antibiotics straight away. A combination of antibiotics.’
Julien was nodding. ‘A combination of antibiotics is often a lot more effective.’
‘There are other things we can do. Martine is getting things ready. We can give her intravenous fluids and treatment with oxygen if it’s needed. She’s on duty in her clinic, so I’ll have to go and get everything, including the drugs.’
He headed for the door, but Julien stopped him.
‘I’ll go,’ he said. ‘You stay here with Fi. I think she needs you.’
* * *
Staying with Fiona was exactly what Christophe wanted to do.
What he needed to do.
He could feel her distress and, above all, he wanted to take that away. He knew what she wanted and, if it was in his power to give her that, he would do whatever it took to achieve it.
He had to save Bouton.
Fi cradled the foal’s head in her lap as Christophe clipped the hair from a patch on the neck and disinfected the skin.
He took a deep breath to steady his hand as he slipped a needle into the vein and then slid a cannula into position.
He screwed the plug into place and filled a syringe with saline.
‘What’s that?’
‘Just salty water. To help keep the line open. I’ve got enough antibiotics to give her the first doses now and one needs to be injected into the vein.
The others we’ll give her by mouth. She needs fluids too, but she’s too weak to drink, so we’ll put that into her veins as well.
Her blood pressure is dropping because the level of oxygen in her blood is too low. ’
Oh … the fear in Fiona’s eyes squeezed his heart so hard that it hurt but he held her gaze.
‘We’re going to fight for her, tesoro , I promise.’
Tears spilled from her eyes as she nodded.
‘Help me put this bandage over her head. We don’t want the IV line to get accidentally pulled out.’
Being able to do something to help was what Fi needed.
She helped ease the stretchy, tubular bandage over Bouton’s ears onto her neck to cover the cannula plug and loop of tubing and they found a way to secure the bag of IV fluids from a hook on the wall to keep it high enough for the fluid to maintain a steady drip.
Christophe got a blanket from the cot in the upstairs bedroom to cover Bouton and some pillows and blankets for the couch so they could take turns to get some rest, perhaps.
When Julien returned, he helped set up the oxygen tank Martine had provided.
Christophe attached tubing from the cylinder to the cup-shaped mask designed for foals.
Fi had another job now, to hold the mask in place, and she looked as though her own life depended on this supply of oxygen, the way she was curled over Bouton, watching the mask mist up with every rapid breath.
She barely looked up when Ellie arrived to put food from the barbecue on the table for them.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ she asked.
Christophe smiled his thanks but shook his head. ‘We’ve done everything we can for now. We can only watch. And wait.’
Ellie lowered her voice to no more than a whisper. ‘Is Fi okay?’
‘I’ll look after her,’ Christophe murmured. ‘I’m not going anywhere. Can you keep Heidi with you tonight?’
‘Of course.’
Julien went back home with Ellie but told Christophe to call him if he needed any help during the night. He could be back in a matter of minutes.
* * *
The second IV dose of antibiotics was administered in the early hours of the next morning but, if anything, Bouton’s condition was worse. Her heart rate and breathing were too rapid and her blood pressure still too low. They could almost smell just how ill she was.
Christophe moved the couch and used pillows to provide some support behind Fi when she refused to move to somewhere more comfortable for a rest. He knew why.
If this little donkey that she loved with all her heart was going to die, she wanted to be holding her.
Giving her the comfort of knowing that she was loved as she slipped away.
He sat beside her, his body providing support when she leaned sideways and let her head rest on his shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss onto those amazing curls of her hair and then turned, his cheek on her head so that he could watch Bouton but not lose the contact he had with Fi.
He could still feel that love she was pouring into the fight to save a life that meant so much to her but, as he sat there quietly and the minutes ticked past, the feeling was changing.
Not the amount of love. No… that was growing.
Getting stronger. But it wasn’t coming from Fi and flowing over Bouton. It was coming from his own heart and…
…and it was all for Fiona.
Had he really thought he’d lost the ability to care this much for someone? This love was filling his heart so hard and fast it was making it ache. He turned his head just far enough for his lips to touch her hair again but he didn’t get a chance to leave a kiss.
A sob broke from Fi.
‘This is my fault,’ she said.
‘ Quoi ?’ For a moment, Christophe was too startled to remember which language he needed. Then his focus sharpened. ‘How could this possibly be your fault?’
‘Because I killed my own baby. I didn’t deserve another one.’
The shock was stunning. Christophe knew that Fiona hadn’t let another man touch her since the rape, so was that when she got pregnant?
‘It was just a baby,’ she whispered – as if she was talking aloud to herself. ‘It wasn’t his fault, the way he came to exist but… I hated that he was there. In my body. It felt like… like I was still being raped by his father.’
‘ Oh, mon Dieu …’ Christophe put his arms around Fi. ‘ Ma pauvre .’
He couldn’t think of the right words in English to tell her that he could feel the suffering she must have gone through all those years ago.
That he wanted to reach back in time and be holding her like this.
Offering her all the love that was needed to try and help her through something so horrific.
‘Who helped you?’ he asked.
‘You’re the only person who even knows about it,’ she said.
It was one shock on top of another. ‘So you went through it by yourself? Were the doctors kind, at least?’
‘No doctors.’ Fi shook her head. ‘I wished it away. I was its mother and I didn’t want it and I made it die. And that’s why I can never have another baby. Because I don’t deserve to be a mother.’
Christophe could see the way her hand was trembling but still wasn’t letting go of Bouton’s oxygen mask. He could feel her body shudder with a sob that was trying to escape. He held her tighter.
‘It hurt,’ Fi said, so softly he could barely hear the words. ‘It hurt so much but I deserved that too. I was nearly sixteen weeks pregnant, I think.’ The sob was agonised. ‘I could see its tiny hands. Fingers, even. I could see it was a boy…’
Christophe’s heart felt like it was bleeding. She had gone through all this alone and lived with it alone for all these years. How strong was this woman? How courageous?
‘What did you do?’ he asked gently.
‘I buried him. In some woods. There were bluebells everywhere. I’ve always loved the smell of bluebells. And they look like a place fairies might live. I thought a baby would like that.’
Fi looked up at Christophe, tears streaming down her face. ‘Do you understand now? Why I don’t deserve to be a mother? Why it might be my fault that Bouton’s going to die?’
He brushed her tears away with his thumbs.