state she realized that he had called her by her first name without "Doctor" preceding it. And from the worried tone of his voice, she knew that something was very wrong.
"That's okay, Michael," she said. "What's going on?"
"Rosebud is sick. I don't know what's wrong with her, but I think it's bad. Neil and Bridget left this evening for the holidays, and Katie... well... Katie is terribly upset."
"I'll be right there."
As Rebecca jumped out of bed and threw on her clothes, dread—icy and paralyzing—rose in her chest. With an effort, she pushed it down. This wasn't the time to panic.
"Not Rosie, not on Christmas Eve," she whispered as she hurried out the door and climbed into her truck. "Please, not Rosie. Katie really needs her."
The child had lost too much already. Even a heart as buoyant as hers would have a difficult time bouncing back from another tragedy so soon after the last. Rebecca was determined to do everything she could to make certain that didn't happen.
She only prayed her efforts would be enough.
The moment Rebecca entered the stable, she saw that Rosebud was even worse than she had expected. She lay on her side, bleating pitifully, Rebecca's bell still attached to her collar, smudges of lipstick still staining her nose.
As she knelt beside Michael in the straw and examined her patient, Rebecca's heart sank. The little goat's stomach was badly swollen and she was obviously in a lot of pain.
"What's wrong with her?" Katie said, as tears ran down her cheeks. "Is she going to die?"
Rebecca wanted to tell her everything was going to be fine, as she had before, but she wouldn't lie to the child. This time she wasn't sure at all. She didn't even know what was wrong.
She asked the usual questions, and Katie and Michael supplied the appropriate answers, but none of those replies gave her the information she needed.
Quickly Rebecca ran the symptoms through her head, trying to match them with an illness or injury that she had studied.
"Wait a minute," she said at last. "Do you still have avocado trees on the property? Back there behind the grape arbor?"
Katie and Michael looked at each other and nodded in unison.
"Could Rosebud have eaten any of the leaves today after I was here?" Rebecca asked Katie.
"Well...when we went to the park to hear the choir, I left her in the backyard. I guess she could have eaten some then."
"I need to know for sure," Rebecca said.
Michael jumped to his feet. "I'll check," he said.
A moment later he returned, holding a half-eaten avocado and some munched leaves. "I'm afraid you were right," he said. "Is that bad?"
Rebecca couldn't bring herself to tell them that she had lost several horses this way. Avocado leaves were deadly for animals. She felt sick with guilt. Why hadn't she warned Katie before about the avocados?
"The problem is—Rosie can't digest the leaves," she told them. "They say a goat can eat anything, and that's true... almost. But even a goat's stomach can't handle avocado leaves."
"What can we do?" Michael asked.
"We have to help her get rid of them," Rebecca said, "even if it takes all night."
"How do we do that?" Katie asked.
Rebecca smiled down at the girl. "You may think this is silly," she said, "but the old-fashioned way is the best. Do you guys have a turkey baster?"
"A turkey baster?" Michael asked. "Yes, Bridget just showed me how to use it the other day."
"Good, that's what I need."
"I'll go get it."
Rebecca rolled up her sleeves, then reached down to touch the little red nose as she waited for Michael to return. "Poor baby," she said. "I guess Santa will have to make his run without Rosie the Reindeer tonight."
"Do you really think this is going to help?" Michael asked as he watched Rebecca fill the baster again with a mixture of mineral oil and milk of magnesia. Gently he held the nanny's mouth open as Rebecca squeezed it in. Rosie swallowed weakly, then began to cry again.
For the past five hours they had been taking turns giving
"That's okay, Michael," she said. "What's going on?"
"Rosebud is sick. I don't know what's wrong with her, but I think it's bad. Neil and Bridget left this evening for the holidays, and Katie... well... Katie is terribly upset."
"I'll be right there."
As Rebecca jumped out of bed and threw on her clothes, dread—icy and paralyzing—rose in her chest. With an effort, she pushed it down. This wasn't the time to panic.
"Not Rosie, not on Christmas Eve," she whispered as she hurried out the door and climbed into her truck. "Please, not Rosie. Katie really needs her."
The child had lost too much already. Even a heart as buoyant as hers would have a difficult time bouncing back from another tragedy so soon after the last. Rebecca was determined to do everything she could to make certain that didn't happen.
She only prayed her efforts would be enough.
The moment Rebecca entered the stable, she saw that Rosebud was even worse than she had expected. She lay on her side, bleating pitifully, Rebecca's bell still attached to her collar, smudges of lipstick still staining her nose.
As she knelt beside Michael in the straw and examined her patient, Rebecca's heart sank. The little goat's stomach was badly swollen and she was obviously in a lot of pain.
"What's wrong with her?" Katie said, as tears ran down her cheeks. "Is she going to die?"
Rebecca wanted to tell her everything was going to be fine, as she had before, but she wouldn't lie to the child. This time she wasn't sure at all. She didn't even know what was wrong.
She asked the usual questions, and Katie and Michael supplied the appropriate answers, but none of those replies gave her the information she needed.
Quickly Rebecca ran the symptoms through her head, trying to match them with an illness or injury that she had studied.
"Wait a minute," she said at last. "Do you still have avocado trees on the property? Back there behind the grape arbor?"
Katie and Michael looked at each other and nodded in unison.
"Could Rosebud have eaten any of the leaves today after I was here?" Rebecca asked Katie.
"Well...when we went to the park to hear the choir, I left her in the backyard. I guess she could have eaten some then."
"I need to know for sure," Rebecca said.
Michael jumped to his feet. "I'll check," he said.
A moment later he returned, holding a half-eaten avocado and some munched leaves. "I'm afraid you were right," he said. "Is that bad?"
Rebecca couldn't bring herself to tell them that she had lost several horses this way. Avocado leaves were deadly for animals. She felt sick with guilt. Why hadn't she warned Katie before about the avocados?
"The problem is—Rosie can't digest the leaves," she told them. "They say a goat can eat anything, and that's true... almost. But even a goat's stomach can't handle avocado leaves."
"What can we do?" Michael asked.
"We have to help her get rid of them," Rebecca said, "even if it takes all night."
"How do we do that?" Katie asked.
Rebecca smiled down at the girl. "You may think this is silly," she said, "but the old-fashioned way is the best. Do you guys have a turkey baster?"
"A turkey baster?" Michael asked. "Yes, Bridget just showed me how to use it the other day."
"Good, that's what I need."
"I'll go get it."
Rebecca rolled up her sleeves, then reached down to touch the little red nose as she waited for Michael to return. "Poor baby," she said. "I guess Santa will have to make his run without Rosie the Reindeer tonight."
"Do you really think this is going to help?" Michael asked as he watched Rebecca fill the baster again with a mixture of mineral oil and milk of magnesia. Gently he held the nanny's mouth open as Rebecca squeezed it in. Rosie swallowed weakly, then began to cry again.
For the past five hours they had been taking turns giving
Similar Books
