Page 19 of Unbroken (Poplar Springs #2)

SEVENTEEN

FIONA

I rolled out of bed before sunrise after an annoying sleepless night that I couldn’t explain.

It used to be the running joke in the family that I could sleep through Armageddon and not even notice that the world had ended until after I had ingested sufficient caffeine.

Groaning, I dressed and stumbled downstairs, trying not to bump into Mitch and Dustin, who were filling up their travel cups with coffee before heading out to the barn.

I grabbed my mug, which had once belonged to my mom. Chipped and cracked, it had a grumpy cartoon character on it mumbling something about not talking to me before my morning coffee. Today, I meant it. I reached for the carafe and growled in frustration. Empty.

Flipping on the faucet, I refilled the coffee maker and slumped down onto a stool while I waited for it to do its magic and produce life saving energy juice. I would need plenty of it if I was going to have any hope of being functional today.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, my brother and sister were quietly filling their cups .

“I swear to whatever deity you pray to that I will hurt the both of you if you don’t save me any coffee from this pot,” I told them. My voice sounded gravelly and unused, so I coughed, attempting to clear my throat.

Shannon poured creamer into her cup and slid the container over to me, tapping the full coffee cup sitting right in front of me that I’d had yet to notice.

One of them must have filled my cup before getting theirs.

I ignored the creamer and grabbed my grumpy cup, taking a big sip of the scalding, bitter elixir.

Any moment now, it would kick in. Any. Moment.

At the point I started feeling human again, I realized that my siblings had left as quietly as they’d arrived. I refilled my cup, adding creamer this time, then slid my feet into my boots and headed out to the barn to start my chores.

I was surprised to see Dr. Wilcox’s vehicle parked outside the barn.

I knew that Josh and Shannon tended to use both Ruth Wilcox’s and Julia Lett’s veterinary services somewhat interchangeably, but lately, we’d been seeing more of Julia.

Was she here to check on Belle’s pregnancy or was there a problem with one of the other horses?

“Is everything okay?” I blurted out, making the older woman jump in surprise.

“Good grief, Fiona. You about gave me a heart attack. I’m too old for that,” she chastised me and I grinned. Despite being in her seventies, Dr. Wilcox was as spry as anyone I knew, and she was usually near impossible to ruffle.

“Sorry, Doc. I’ve been concerned about Belle ever since Diesel hopped the fence, and seeing you here now…” I left the rest unsaid and her expression softened with understanding.

“I agree that Belle shouldn’t be pregnant at her age, but aborting the fetus in a mare of any age should only be done in case of extreme circumstances,” she told me, and I nodded in response.

I remembered one of my mother’s horses spontaneously losing the fetus years ago.

It had been awful. The placenta hadn’t gotten completely expelled, and the poor girl had ended up with endotoxemia from the influx of toxins in her system.

My mom had refused to leave her side. Unfortunately, Doc Wilcox ended up having to put the mare down and my mom cried for weeks.

I didn’t want Shannon to go through that.

“You’ll be happy to know that Belle is doing well. Bit of discomfort, but that’s normal at this stage. I’m here checking on the other mares to determine which ones are pregnant.”

Shannon preferred to breed her horses naturally instead of using AI—artificial insemination.

It was how our mother and grandmother both chose to do it and even though there were alternatives now that had high conception rates and were considered in some ways safer for the mare than live cover breeding, my sister was still insistent on what she called “the Cafferty women’s way. ”

There were pros and cons to both options and the health of the mares and their foals were always of top concern to Shannon. Before I could ask the doc which mares were pregnant, my sister strode out from the barn.

“Thanks for your help, Doc,” she said, handing her a check for the visit. We both watched the doc drive away.

“So? How many pregnant?” I asked Shannon.

“Three. Two more by Diesel and Winnie got knocked up by Hurricane, the stallion from Four Aces.” Shannon had been negotiating with some of the other ranches around here for stud fees with stallions that carried traits she was hoping to breed.

Successful breeding programs was a mix of the right genetics, money, and luck.

Shannon’s mares had genetics on their side, but we seemed to be lacking in luck, given how hard money was to come by.

Especially in a market saturated with average horses.

“Can I help with anything?” I asked. Our next trail ride wasn’t until tomorrow and my regular chores could wait if my sister needed help.

“You sure you’re awake enough?” she teased me, elbowing my arm as she grinned. I chugged the last of my coffee, grimacing at the bitter bite.

“Put me to work, boss lady. I’m yours for at least the next hour or two.

” I hooked my arm around my sister’s and we headed to the enclosed pasture where her mares hung out during the day.

My steps felt lighter than they had earlier.

I chalked it up to my relief that Belle was okay, but it was more than that.

I was happy being here. Maybe happier than I’d been my last few months in Denver.

But that didn’t make sense because I wasn’t planning on sticking around.

I fully intended to return to Denver and rejoin the corporate world.

So, then, why was I so excited to get dirty?