Sacred Ground Read Free

help―"
    "Like hell you are! You expect me to believe you drove over here to help me, an Indian woman, deliver a buffalo calf? Please! Give me some credit for brains."
    "Doctor Potter had some heart arrhythmia while he was out at my place. He's going to be fine, just needs to take it easy for a couple of days. He's the reason it's taken someone so long to get here. He asked me to come and help with the calf. A suffering animal is what matters. Even if it's a damn buffalo."
    "What exactly do you think you can do, that I can't?" she asked, watching him struggle to suppress his anger under the appearance of indifference.
    "I have some training in animal science." He leaned over Thunder. "She's acting pretty sluggish. You give her a sedative? That can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."
    "Antelope Tipi gave her something to relax her.” Willow glanced at Brett and read concern in his expression.
    "I'm supposed to trust some ancient mumbo jumbo?"
    "Nope. I didn't ask you to. It's your choice to be here. Leave if you find it too much of a challenge." She fell silent and watched him press Thunder's stomach high, then low. He pulled on long plastic surgical gloves and inserted his hand into the birthing canal. "The calf is presenting itself breech. Both mother and calf are in danger. I'm going to try turning the calf. There's no time to waste. You'll have to help." He hurried to his truck.
    Sean slammed the truck door and shuffled toward Lance.
    "Hi, guy," she said with forced cheeriness. "You boys better stay at a distance and keep quiet. If things get . . . tense, and I tell you to go to the house, I expect you both to get tracking. Understand?" She looked at the twosome. They both nodded, moving back to sit with their backs against the barn door.
    Several cold droplets reminded her of another potential problem. She couldn't think of that now. They’d take one thing at a time. If only Doctor Potter had come instead of Brett Turner. The crunch of gravel made her turn. Brett approached carrying a large black vet bag.
    "What do you think you're doing, you're not a veterinarian?"
    "You're right, but I'm the next best choice you have at this moment. I've finished all but my job experience hours under a licensed vet, to become one myself." He set out several instruments on a clean towel he'd spread on the ground.
    "I didn't know that," she muttered. "But if you haven't had field experience yet, you really don't know what you're doing, do you? I mean, there's a big difference between reading something in a book and knowing what to do. What are those for?" she asked, observing the straight row of ominous looking knives, clamps and needles.
    "A C-section. We need to be ready just in case," he answered, without looking at her.
    "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" His glaring response caused her to fall silent. She had to admit having Brett help was better than no help at all. She didn’t want either animal to die. She swallowed what remained of her pride and asked, "What can I do to help?"
    "Tell your father to pack up his feathers and rattles and get out of the way," he said, kneeling behind his patient.
    "I guess it's impossible for you to stay civil for more than a few minutes. Why did I expect anything different?" she asked, between clenched teeth. "Thunder needs my father. He stays!"
    "There's no time to argue, Willow . Pull on a pair of gloves and get down here."
    While he pushed and pulled the calf inside Thunder, Willow snapped on long latex gloves.
    Brent grunted slightly. "Whatever Antelope Tipi gave this animal, it's sure effective."
    "How's it going?" she asked, dropping to her knees alongside Brett.
    "Hold this position while I double check where the cord is," he directed.
    She moved in closer. "I've got it," she said, struggling to keep her balance and remain motionless as he moved knowing hands around the birthing cavity. She became aware of his warm breath on the back of her neck.
    "Be ready. When I