The mare lay down and almost immediately got up again. She circled around some more. Then she lay down, sides heaving, and she did not get up.

“Here we go.” Gard eased close to Jenna. Faint traces of water still glistened on her skin, and she smelled of soap. She looked steady and strong and confident. She was the most beautiful woman Jenna’d ever seen.

“There’s a foot,” Dan said.

“Good,” Gard said softly. “And there’s foot number two.”

“That’s good, right?” Jenna couldn’t keep quiet. She was too captivated, too thrilled. The night closed in around her, the only sounds the gentle whinnies of the rest of the horses and the grunts of the mare who worked so hard to give life to the creature inside her. They might have been anywhere in the world, at any time—or no time at all. All that mattered was right here in this moment, no past and no future. Just the exquisite beauty of what was happening right before her very eyes. She hadn’t realized she’d grasped Gard’s hand until she felt warm, strong fingers squeeze her own. Gard leaned close.

“It’s okay. See the nose peeking out between the feet? Mama’s doing fine.” Gard rubbed Jenna’s back. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Oh, yes.” Jenna blinked back tears. Just like you.

Chapter Twenty-two

Thirty-five minutes later, the foal staggered to her feet and stood on wobbly legs, wet and scrawny and the most incredible creature Jenna had ever seen. Gard eased into the stall and knelt in the straw next to the baby, slowly and gently examining her. They were both gorgeous—woman and horse—unique and special and breathtaking. Jenna wished she was a photographer or a painter instead of a writer, because she couldn’t think of any words perfect enough to describe the picture. After a few minutes, Gard checked the mother, then turned to Jenna.

“You want to come see her?”

“Is it all right?”

“Mama won’t want us in here for long, but a minute or two should be okay. Just approach slowly and don’t make any sudden noises.”

Jenna tiptoed into the stall and halted next to Gard, a few feet from the foal. The baby, a darker brown than her mother with a white blaze on her chest and white socks on her forelegs, endured a tongue washing from her mother, barely able to stay upright under the maternal onslaught. “When will she nurse?”

“Soon. We’ll stay until she does. Once that happens, we’re home free.”

Just at that moment, the foal stumbled over to Jenna and nudged her hand. Her nose was wet and warm and soft beyond description. Velvet came to mind, but that wasn’t quite right. Even velvet had some texture, but this baby’s nose was far smoother. Jenna caught her breath and stood absolutely still as the inquisitive little being explored her fingertips. Gard slid her arm around Jenna’s waist and squeezed lightly.

“Worth getting up for in the middle of the night?” Gard whispered.

“Oh yes,” Jenna said as they backed out of the stall and the foal, encouraged with a few nudges from her mother, finally found the appropriate target and began to nurse.

Jenna caught a hint of sweet hay and soap, the scents she associated with Gard, and knew the odors would forever be associated with this woman and this exquisite, perfect moment. She leaned her head against Gard’s shoulder. “Worth getting up for every night.”

Gard chuckled and stroked her hair. “You say that now. After fifty or so, you might change your mind. About eighty percent of the births occur in the middle of the night.”

“Have you gotten used to it?” Jenna already knew the answer—it was written in the soft, peaceful contours of Gard’s face and the slow easy timbre of her voice. She was at home here. Content. Jenna had never strived for contentment, never even thought she wanted it. Success yes, satisfaction in her work. Yes. Satisfaction in bed now and then. Sure. But contentment? That peace of the heart that comes only from being exactly where you belong, doing exactly what you were meant to do, living the life that completely suited you—no. She hadn’t wanted that. Until now.

Dan cleared his throat beside them. “I guess I dragged you out here for nothing, Gard. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Gard said. “I wish every call ended this way. Glad to do it.”

“Besides,” Jenna added. “This is my first time.”

Dan laughed and tugged his John Deere cap down over his unruly hair. “It never gets old.”

“No,” she said softly. “I don’t suppose it does. What are you going to name her?”

Dan looked puzzled. “Hadn’t thought on it.”

“Jenna’s a writer,” Gard called from the sink where she had gone to wash up. “She might have an idea.”

“Go ahead,” Dan said. “Do the honors.”

“You’re sure?” Jenna glanced from Dan to Gard, who grinned at her. When Dan nodded she watched the foal nurse, its wide brown eyes soft with contentment. Calmness, warmth, and an astonishing sense of peace coursed through her. “Harmony.”

“Pretty,” Dan said.

“Perfect,” Gard murmured.

Gard’s gaze was so warm, so intimate, Jenna’s eyes filled. Everything was perfect. She turned quickly away—hormones, that’s all. Totally out-of-control hormones.

“Thank you,” she told Dan and once outside, hooked her arm through Gard’s. “That was amazing. I can’t thank you enou—”

“No thanks needed.” Gard’s voice was raspy and when they’d settled in the cab, she sat for a moment in silence as if making a decision. “I don’t suppose you’re hungry?”

Jenna laughed. “Somehow, I think we’ve been here before.”

Gard grinned and reached for the keys. “Yeah. My repertoire is a little thin, I guess.”

Jenna rested her hand on Gard’s wrist. “I’m famished. Oscar’s?”

“You sure?”

“Very sure.”

Gard glanced over at her. “Why did you come tonight? I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I knew when I saw you at the door something important was happening.” Jenna didn’t add she would have gone with her for any reason, needing to be careful that the beauty of the night and all that had happened didn’t carry her away. She’d never felt anything as right as sitting in the front seat of Gard’s truck in the middle of the silent countryside, watching starlight flicker over Gard’s face and waiting for dawn. She could so easily lose herself here, and yet, despite the risks, she couldn’t bring herself to deny her feelings. “And…I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Gard heaved a sigh and turned on the truck. “I kept thinking you might leave.”

“Alice has arranged for an art dealer to come up this weekend. Once the paintings are taken care of, I can show the house. I’ll probably meet with the realtor next week.”

Gard’s shoulders tightened. “Then you won’t have any reason to stay, will you?”

“I never intended to stay very long.”

“It must be nice to have life go according to plan.”

Jenna laughed humorlessly. “Oh, it must be. But I wouldn’t know.”

Gard pulled into the parking lot at Oscar’s. It might’ve been noon judging from the jammed lot, although on closer inspection almost all the vehicles were eighteen-wheelers. The farmers in their pickups wouldn’t show up for another couple of hours. Gard turned off the engine and jiggled the keys between her fingers. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not quite the country girl you think.” Jenna shifted around until her back was against the door. “I grew up in the country, but not on a farm—at a truck stop just off the turnpike. My father died in a motorcycle crash when I was three. My birth mother was never in the picture and his second wife, Darlene, kept me. She was a diner waitress, and later so was I. That’s what I was raised to be. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but unfortunately, Darlene tended to supplement her tips with some after-hours work. Work that she brought home with her. A trailer is a small place, and when I got older, it started to look like I might be on the menu soon.”

“Jesus, Jenna.” Gard’s eyes flashed darkly in the light from the diner’s glowing white neon sign.

“Oh, things never progressed that far, but Darlene definitely considered me bait for the kind of game she was hunting. That’s when I got out.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“You were on your own?”

“Yes. For the first few years. I managed to get some education, got into the city college, and turned what had always been my passion into something I could make a living at. I got lucky and met Alice when I was just getting started. She gave me a chance. She gave me a lot.”

“You love her.”

“Yes, I do,” Jenna said. “We’re not lovers. We never have been. It’s not right for us. I don’t love her that way.”

Gard’s brows drew down. “What way?”

“Desperately. Passionately. All-consumingly.”

“That’s how you see love?”

“Don’t you?”

Gard shook her head. “Once. Not anymore.”

“Are you ever going to tell me about her?”

“It’s an old story. I thought she loved me. She didn’t.” Gard yanked open her door and jumped down. “Let’s get breakfast.”

Jenna followed, absurdly pleased that Gard hadn’t said I loved her when she spoke about the woman who had obviously hurt her. Silly to be jealous. She’d never been jealous over a woman in her life. Of course, she hardly recognized half of what she was feeling these days. When had she become a stranger to herself? She nearly stumbled when she considered that the stranger might be the woman she’d been before arriving in Little Falls.

“Jen, you okay?” Gard grasped her hand.

“Yes,” Jenna said, instantly centered by Gard’s warm strength. “Yes. I’m just glad to be here.”

Gard rested her fingertips on Jenna’s cheek and lightly kissed her. “So am I.”

Jenna swayed toward her as naturally as the tide surging to the moon’s pull. She wanted another minute alone with her, under the stars, She wanted another kiss. “We should go inside.”