Carmen flipped through the book to the part on kidding problems and scanned down the directions. Fighting down a wave of nausea, she kneeled at the tail of the goat. This was no time to get squeamish. She tugged the gloves on and waited until the contraction passed. Taking a deep breath, she hesitantly inserted her hand into the birth canal and carefully slid it along the tiny leg until she felt the muzzle. Where was the other leg? And then she felt another soft hoof. Her fingers explored the leg, feeling for a hock to make sure it wasn't a hind leg. Reaching under the tiny limb with a finger, she gently pulled the leg forward.

"Carmen?" Katie called through the open door of the dairy. "Where are you?"

"In here . . . in the second kidding stall. Hurry."

Carmen stood and backed away as the doe lurched to her feet and went into another contraction. This time both legs presented and then the little pink nose. The doe cried out again and heaved, expelling the tiny body.

"Finally," Carmen said with a sigh, glancing up at Katie. "I thought . . ."

Her entire thought train derailed as she gaped at the man beside Katie. Could this hunk be Katie's brother?

Soft chocolate eyes regarded her with veiled humor, and his mouth held the promise of a smile. The bronze features were smooth and perfectly formed - almost too perfect, and yet, not effeminate. His black curly hair was cut short, every hair in place, and his angular jaws were freshly shaven. He was lean, with broad shoulders, narrow hips and a flat abdomen. His gray suit looked expensive and the silk tie added a touch of elegance. Michael Angelo couldn't have created anything better.

Carmen clamped her sagging jaw shut and tore her gaze from him, an uncomfortable warmth flooding her neck and face. She glued her attention on the doe, which was now licking life into her infant. Carmen pealed the gloves from her hands and tried to make her voice sound casual.

"The kid had one leg caught back underneath it. For a little while there I was afraid I might have to go for help."

"You've done this before, I presume?"

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The warm baritone voice induced a fresh bout of blushing. She laughed nervously.

"Then you presumed wrong." She retrieved the book from the floor, along with all the other supplies. "I think she can handle the rest, though."

"Oh," Katie said. "This is my brother, Alex Barnett. Alex, this is Carmen Pulock."




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