Chapters (24)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1: Going Once, Going Twice …
- Chapter 2: The Thirteen-Million-Dollar Horse
- Chapter 3: The Chance of a Lifetime
- Chapter 4: The Diary of Rose Bonifait
- Chapter 5: The Horse Guards
- Chapter 6: The Stag and the Pheasant
- Chapter 7: The Wheelchair Mystery
- Chapter 8: I Hate Paris in the Springtime
- Chapter 9: Terror at the Louvre
- Chapter 10: Flamants Roses
- Chapter 11: Death’s Dark Spectre
- Chapter 12: Wild Horses
- Chapter 13: The Black Bag
- Chapter 14: The King Tide
- Chapter 15: The Hammer Falls
- Chapter 16: Gardians of the Camargue
- Chapter 17: Sold!
- Epilogue
- Keep Reading …
- Books by Stacy Gregg
- About the Publisher
I tried to wriggle my body out from the beneath the foal, but it was too heavy! And so I focused on moving just my right arm. If I could free it, then I’d be able to rip the membrane and clear the foal’s air passages with my fingers. Squirming and contorting myself, I eventually managed to wrench the arm free. I grabbed the milky membrane with my trembling hand and found it surprisingly strong! It took a few tries before I had ripped a large enough hole that I could see the wet, dazed foal nestled inside the sac. I put my fingers up its nostrils and inside its mouth to make sure the airways were clear. Then I waited for what seemed like a lifetime for its breathing to begin, and just as I was panicking that it would never come, I saw the creature startle with a gasp. The foal had awoken! It began to take in air and then its eyes opened, deep brown pools, lashes fluttering. It was alive!
And I could sense my own breath now that the panic was over for the foal and I realised I too was having trouble breathing. The foal was lying directly on top of me and its not-inconsiderable weight was crushing my ribcage. I squirmed and pushed, struggling to free myself, and managed to get a bit of leverage and wedge myself forward, just enough to get my ribs clear and the air back in my lungs to breathe again. But that was all the movement I could muster. I was still trapped beneath the foal.
I was wondering what to do about this when the foal solved the problem for us both. It was alert now, and going through its own natural struggle. It’s instinct for a horse to try to stand from the very moment it is born. This foal was no different, and now that it could breathe, its only mission in life was to get on all fours. The foal struggled against my legs and belly, four legs splayed akimbo, trying and failing to rise up. As it struggled, I squirmed too and in a brief moment when our struggles worked in unison, it made just enough space for me to crawl out from underneath and drag myself out by my elbows.
Panting and heaving, I pulled myself clear and then I managed to turn back to watch in wonder as one of the most remarkable miracles of nature unfolded before me.