Auror Part 2

“Enjoy it. I’m so excited to see you at work,” Ann says, still a bit too energetic for my taste. I’m still stunned by her attitude; I thought we’d end up in a fight she would certainly win.
We drive the entire way with Ann telling me how Bourn will go crazy when he sees me with her because he’s an old grump.
“Ann, he’ll hate me even more. I killed his son; I live something Clint never had the chance to experience.”
“Because of that treacherous bitch, she deceived everyone.” Ann’s anger toward Galena is palpable from the moment I told her what happened.
I remain silent. It’s the first time in over three hundred years that I’ll see them. The Moriahs were like a second family to me for many years, but since my condemnation, we’ve never been close again. They hate me, and I’d hate myself if I were in their place. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did.
The closer we get to their farm, the more my body tenses. They moved here after Clint’s death and never go to Forty Mile. I always believed it was a silent agreement not to cross paths with each other.
Ann parks the truck, gets out, and I follow her. When Bourn sees me, his eyes narrow into slits.
“Where’s the mare?” Ann switches to her veterinarian mode, breaking the tense atmosphere between us.
“Over here,” he says, running toward the stables. I grab the medical bags from the truck bed and follow him.
The mare has her colt’s nose sticking out, but he doesn’t seem able to come out on his own.
“How long has she been like this?”
“She wasn’t like this when I went to get you.”
“Damn it! We’ll need to assist him coming out. He might be too big, and she might not be dilated enough.”
I watch as Ann prepares, putting on gloves up to her shoulders, applying lubricant, and starting to tie the colt’s legs. Then she begins to pull. The chain has a lever that helps force the foal out, but it’s too much. Bourn isn’t moving, so I step in, crossing Ann’s path and taking her place. Using my measured strength, I pull the colt, which slides onto the hay pile.
Ann begins to clean him with hay and soon realizes he’s doing fine.
“Thanks for the help. I’ll take you with me next time.” Her triumphant smile fills me with pride for my mate. She chose the right profession; it’s clear she loves what she does.
"Let it not be in the morning," Bourn growls quietly, and I respond with a loud growl that makes him instinctively back off.
We stand like that, with me showing him who the leader is here.