Free The Curvy Vet and the Billionaire Cowboy (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) by Victoria Wessex

she decided to lash out, but I was glad he was there.
    Oh dear God. Am I really going to do this? I could feel the fear climbing inside me, taking control of my mind, freezing up my hands. I was going to have another full-on meltdown, and the horse was going to die.
    I looked at Russ. No. Not this time. And I forced the fear back down.
    “Get ready,” I said. “Gag going in….”
    I had to wait until she opened and then shove the thing into her mouth, trying not to think of how powerful those jaws were, especially when she was riled up with fever. Trying not to think of words like lacerate and break and sever.
    She opened.
    I shoved.
    The gag went sideways and my hand went in too flat, too deep.
    Her teeth closed on my wrist. I sucked in air through my nose, keeping my lips pressed hard together to stop me screaming, because if I screamed she’d panic and I’d probably lose my hand.
    I was okay. Just. The gag must have lodged between the back teeth, preventing her mouth from fully shutting, because the teeth were digging into the skin but weren’t going any deeper.
    “Are you okay?!” Russ’s voice seemed to come from a long way away, and I had to shake my head to clear it.
    “Yes,” I said, keeping my voice neutral, trying to hold back the panic. A second later, the horse opened its jaws and I pushed the gag into place. Immediately, the horse whinnied in fright, trying to pull away, but its muscles were weakened and Russ held on for grim life.
    I pulled my hand out. There were teeth marks around my wrist, some of them already turning purple with bruises, but the skin wasn’t broken and I could still move everything. “Okay,” I said. “Now the hard part.”
    I picked up the tube and inserted it gently through the gag. The horse immediately tried to close its mouth, but couldn’t. So she started to buck and twist its head instead. Russ did his best to pin her head to the ground without hurting her. “Hurry,” he panted.
    I looked at the tube in my hands and felt sick. I tried to tell myself that you intubate by feel anyway, so it didn’t matter that I couldn’t see.
    But in an operating theater I’d be able to see the position of her throat. She wouldn’t be panting and bucking and twisting. It was like trying to thread a moving needle in the dark. And I couldn’t be rough and just force it in. The last thing she needed was bruises and swelling on her throat.
    “Please,” said Russ. “Please, Amanda. You can do it.”
    I closed my eyes—there was so little light it made no difference anyway. I tried to see my old anatomy textbooks in my mind. Over the tongue. Into the larynx. Through to the trachea. I lined it up, felt for the opening…and pushed.
    The horse gave a panicked groan and then there was a whistling gasp from the tube. I put my cheek to the end to make sure.
    “She’s breathing,” I said, and sat back on my heels in relief, running my hand through her mane. Russ wrapped his arms around me and hugged me from behind.
     
    ***
     
    With more drugs in her system and the airway taped in place, the horse’s breathing became a little easier. I gave her a sedative to help her deal with the unpleasant tube in her throat and we sat beside her for the rest of the night, stroking her. By dawn, the drugs had started to ease the swelling around her throat. By mid-morning, she was restless enough that I figured she could breathe on her own, and slid the airway out.
    I expected her to try to take my hand off when I removed the gag, but she stayed still. Maybe she understood that I’d helped her.
    It would be days before she fully recovered, but her temperature was slowly dropping and she was starting to move her head a little more easily. I told Russ, hesitantly, that I thought she was going to make it.
    He pulled me into another hug, squashing me against his chest, his chin against the top of my head. “That’s great,” he said. “Now listen.”
    It caught me unawares. I’d been all ready to