Bill’s chance to get closer to the older stud came a couple of months later. Bella, Rusty’s mare, had been showing signs she would foal that night and Rusty had asked Bill if he’d watch her with him. So there he was, in a birthing stall with his idol, watching Bella pick at the contents of her hay rack.
“This will be her second,” the proud if anxious cowboy said, pacing the large stall like a nervous expectant father. “The first went off okay, but…”
Bill smiled to himself. He’d never seen Rusty in anything other than complete control. He guessed it was different when the horse was your own. “Want some more coffee? I think she’ll be a while yet.”
“Uh, yeah.” Rusty came to sit on the stacked square bales of straw next to Bill.
As he poured from the Thermos, trying to keep his hand steady
