THE MEETING WAS just as Will expected it to be. The familiar, imposing classical boardroom with oak-paneled walls, the impeccably-dressed secretaries with perfect hair and plastic smiles. They were a complete contrast to Chrissie with her natural, sun-kissed skin and practical clothes.
He was annoyed when Ezra McBride turned up at what was supposed to have been a private meeting, brash and loud with heavy gold chains that declared his wealth in vulgar fashion. He held out his broad hand, but Will declined it.
“Will...I need you on this case,” Ezra insisted. “Just name your price.”
“I don’t have a price anymore,” he responded, his tone cool and firm. “I don’t work with Marcus Finch now, and I don’t intend to take on any more cases...whatever they are.”
Ezra’s face hardened. “I don’t think you understand,” he said.
Refusing to feel threatened, Will stared him straight in the eye. “Oh, I understand perfectly. I think it’s you who doesn’t understand.” He turned to Roy Wallis. “And as for you...”
His former boss had the grace to drop his gaze to the floor as Will stared at him accusingly. “I believe that I have been brought here on a false pretext.”
“No...it’s not what you think,” Roy said. “I didn’t know Ezra was going to be here.”
“Look...” Ezra’s voice took on a sinister tone. “If you don’t do this—”
“Are you threatening me?” Will growled. “If you want to go down that route then I have an awful lot of ammunition to fire back at you.”
Ezra’s expression turned shifty. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
The criminal turned on his heel. “You haven’t heard the last of this.”
When the door banged behind him, Roy let out a sigh of relief. “You see how it is? We need you to deal with clients like him.”
“No.” Will shook his head. “Because you don’t need to have clients like him. What you really need is to change the way you do things around here. Just because this company has a reputation for successfully defending hardened criminals doesn’t mean it has to keep on doing it.”
“Then come back, Will. I do agree that we need change around here, but we also need you to help motivate that change. You’re not a country kind of person anyway—this is what you love. The courtroom, the challenges, the success. We can have that success with different types of clients. You can have it. You miss it, Will. Go on, tell me you don’t.”
“I don’t miss meeting people like Ezra, criminals who have no scruples and think they’re above the law. They are above the law, with lawyers like I used to be to help them. Can’t you see, Roy? That’s why I left. I didn’t have a breakdown, I just got sickened by the whole sordid business.”
“Then come back and help turn things around,” Roy pleaded. “Make yourself proud of being a lawyer again... Prove yourself.”
Will hesitated and, noting that hesitation, Roy smiled. “You know it makes sense.”
“No...” Will shook his head firmly, convincing himself as much as Roy. “It doesn’t make sense. I’m done with law.”
“We’ll see,” Roy said, shaking his hand. “At least think about it.”
Driving home, Will felt a rush of elation. In the back of his mind, he’d felt guilty about just running away from a situation he didn’t like, abandoning his responsibilities because he couldn’t cope with what they were. But now, having been given the opportunity to face up to Ezra McBride, he felt absolved of the guilt that had lingered alongside the relief his decision had given him. He’d taken a leaf from Chrissie’s book and stood his ground, going back to Marcus Finch to stand tall and have his say. The surprise was that Roy had kind of agreed with him. There was even a small part of Will that had considered Roy’s offer. But the satisfaction he’d once felt from winning cases was nothing compared to the freedom he now felt, the freedom to enjoy his new life...as long as he could make a go of it. He had a new future to build in Little Dale, and he planned to succeed at all costs.
* * *
AT HIGH BRACKEN, Chrissie was struggling to bond the ewe to the orphan she’d picked up from Chris Bolton.
The sheep’s refusal to take the lamb was a common enough problem, of course, but this ewe was being particularly stubborn, pushing the tiny lamb away every time it tried to feed just because the scent wasn’t right. She had milk and a mothering instinct, she just needed to believe that the orphan was really hers. That was essential in order for her to have a purpose and stay here with the flock. Chrissie had penned them up together and milked the ewe a few times, feeding the lamb from a bottle to get its adoptive mother’s milk through the little creature’s system. That usually worked. Not this time, though. The ewe just butted the poor lamb away every time it tried to suckle.
In desperation, Chrissie went for the age-old remedy of skinning the dead lamb to make a kind of coat for its replacement. She placed the orphan back in the pen and watched closely, holding her breath as the ewe sniffed her surrogate offspring. Suddenly, she made a snuffling, bleating noise, then nibbled and licked the lamb’s back, accepting its smell. When the little one took a firm hold of the ewe’s teat and started to suckle, Chrissie let out a sigh of relief. She stood there a few minutes longer, just to be sure.
The sun was sinking when Chrissie finally left the lamb with its new mother. It was almost time to check the lambing sheep, but first she needed a hot drink and a sandwich.
When she heard a vehicle approaching, her heart sank. Who could it be at this time of day? She was too tired to make small talk.
When she recognized Will’s four-by-four, something leaped in her chest...much to her annoyance. She clamped down on her reaction, setting her lips into a tight line. “Oh...it’s you,” she said, as Will pulled up beside her and rolled down his window.
“Don’t look too pleased to see me,” he remarked dryly, opening the door and climbing out. “I’ve only come to bring you some money. Do you have a pen on you, by the way? I’ve forgotten mine.”
He waved his checkbook in her face, and Chrissie sighed. “You’d better come to the house. I’ll get you one there.”
She walked just ahead of him to the back door, acutely aware of his tall frame right behind her. When she stepped into the cozy warmth of the kitchen, instead of staying on the step he followed her inside, standing too close for comfort.
“I don’t know why you’re so annoyed with me,” he said, “when I come bearing gifts.”
“Paying for your mistakes is hardly bearing gifts,” Chrissie said, glancing up from the drawer where she was rummaging for a pen. “I’m in a rush, that’s all. I still have the lambing sheep to check and I need food and a coffee first... I haven’t stopped all day.”
Will stepped past her and reached for the kettle. “Well, then, I’ll make the coffee while you look for the pen. And technically it wasn’t my mistake—it was Max’s.”
Chrissie glared at him. “Your dog’s mistake is your mistake,” she said. “You have to take total responsibility for anything your dog might do.”
Ignoring her, Will spooned instant coffee into two mugs, poured in boiling water and opened the fridge. “You do take milk, I presume? Sugar?”
“I don’t remember offering you anything.”
Putting down the milk jug he stood tall, returning her cool gaze. “Listen,” he began. “I really am sorry about both the sheep and the duck, and I don’t blame you for being mad at me. I know I haven’t quite gotten used to this country thing yet, but I do want to try and fit in here.”
For a moment, his eyes met hers, and a heavy pulse began to beat in her throat. He seemed so much taller here in her kitchen, and he was standing so close that she could feel his heat.
Despite her discomfort, Chrissie couldn’t stop a smile from turning up the corners of her lips. “Well, you won’t fit in around here dressed like that,” she said, raising her eyebrows at his expensive suit and shiny black shoes. “Don’t you ever get it right?”
“For your information, I happen to be dressed like this because I’m a lawyer. Or, at least, I was. I’m recently...retired. I’ve just been to the city to finish up some...stuff.”
“Bit young to retire, aren’t you?” Chrissie asked, reaching across to finish pouring the coffees. “What happened there?”
“You really don’t want to know,” Will replied, writing out the check. “But I’m not retired, because I’m about to embark on a new career...in tourism.” He handed it over with a flourish. “At least you can’t say I don’t pay my dues.”
“You do know how I feel about tourists?” Chrissie said bluntly.
Will nodded. “Since you have mentioned it before, several times, I reckon I’ve got a pretty good idea. But you don’t need to worry—none of my plans are final yet... Who knows what will happen. Take the money, with my apologies. I really am sorry for all the trouble my ignorance has caused.”
Chrissie tucked the check in her pocket and passed him a mug. Perhaps he really was sorry. “Okay,” she said, smiling. “Truce. We got off to a bad start. Well, a couple of bad starts, actually, so let’s just start all over again. Drink your coffee and then I must go and check the sheep.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “Are you actually going to go around the field now? It’s almost dark.”
“That’s exactly when sheep tend to lamb,” Chrissie explained.
“Then I’ll come and help you,” he said.
He looked as surprised by his offer as she was. Well, he had seemed so earnest about fitting in a moment ago. She would show him what country life was really like. “You’re hardly dressed for it, but I do believe there’s a big old jacket in the cupboard. I’ll go and get it for you.”
“I mean, if you’d rather go on your own...” he tried.
Chrissie wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “I could use the company, actually.” She drained her mug. “Come on, there’s no time to lose. Sometimes we can get eight or ten lambs a night.”
Will seemed even more uncomfortable when she brought him the coat.
“Um...what exactly is it that we’ll be doing?” he asked cautiously.
“Help the lambing sheep, like I said.” She headed toward the door.
“You mean actually help the sheep give birth?” he spluttered.
Chrissie turned, wondering if it would be a mistake to bring him along, after all. “Oh, yes. And if they’re having trouble or the lambs are weak we have to bring them into the barn. So are you coming or not?”
Will nodded, though he was pale, and Chrissie hid her smile as she stepped out into the twilight.
* * *
WILL FOLLOWED CHRISSIE across the yard, trying to fasten the waxed jacket she’d lent him. The arms were too short and it was tight across his chest, but at least it would keep out the wind. When she walked right past her Land Rover, he caught up to her.
“I thought that we were going to drive.”
“I’m having trouble with its clutch,” she explained. “I haven’t had time to take it into the garage, and besides, the hillside gets quite steep. We’re better with the tractor.”
“Tractor,” he repeated, and he could swear he saw Chrissie smile in the semidarkness.
“It has good lights and it’s very reliable,” she told him, climbing up into an elderly red Massey Ferguson with a trailer attached. “Do you want to sit in the cab? It’s not that comfortable, but at least you’ll be out of the wind.”
“What is the alternative?” Will asked uncertainly.
“Well, you could just climb into the trailer.”
Will responded by climbing awkwardly into the cramped cab, folding his tall frame in next to Chrissie.
“All you have to do is keep your eyes peeled for a sheep in trouble,” she told him. “It might just look uncomfortable, usually in the shelter of a wall or bush, or it could have the lamb’s feet or even head out. Usually they manage to lamb by themselves, but sometimes they need a pull...and then we have to make sure that the lamb, or lambs, have suckled.”
As the tractor rumbled into life, Will felt about as far out of his comfort zone as it was possible to be. All her talk about pulling lambs out and helping them suckle was making him panic. Was she just winding him up or was she serious? Surely she would call a vet if a sheep had a problem. Yes, she was just having him on. He grew calmer. If she needed him to help get a sheep into the trailer to take back to the barn to see the vet then he supposed he could manage that.
“Gate, please,” Chrissie said, and Will struggled out of the cab to open it. “And don’t forget to shut it behind us,” she reminded him. He nodded, turning his face away from the drizzling rain that was being buffeted around by the rising wind.
As Chrissie drove slowly around the first meadow, Will saw dozens of sheep in the tractor headlights. Most were huddled together in the shelter of the drystone walls, but through the darkness he made out one figure all alone in a corner. “Over there,” he called in excitement. “There’s a sheep on its own over there!”
Chrissie maneuvered the cumbersome vehicle so they could see the sheep in the headlights. It was standing with its head down, and even Will could see that it wasn’t happy. As they walked quietly toward it, he was horrified to see a black head protruding from beneath its tail.
“Is that a bad sign?” he murmured in Chrissie’s ear.
“If the lamb’s front legs are back, it could be,” she said, taking hold of the wool around the ewe’s throat. Will hung back, not knowing what to do.
“Give me a hand, then,” she said. “You hold her against the wall, and I’ll take a look.”
The sheep was easier to control than he expected, almost as if she knew they were trying to help.
“She’s been struggling for a while,” said Chrissie, feeling inside the ewe to see how its lamb was lying. She cursed under her breath. “The forelegs are back.”
Will fumbled for his phone with one hand while holding the ewe firmly against the wall with the other. “What’s the vet’s number?” he asked. “I’ll ring him for you.”
“Vet!” He was shocked to hear a smile in her voice. “If I called a vet for every problem, I’d be losing money by the day. I just have to try and push the lamb back a bit to release the legs. As long as it hasn’t been like this for too long, there’s a chance it will be okay.”
Will watched in awe as she closed her eyes to concentrate on what she was feeling. Her face was tense with effort, wet and shiny with the rain that was battering against it.
“Shouldn’t we take them back to the barn?” he suggested, but she shook her head.
“No time. We may be too late as it is.”
When he saw two tiny pointed front feet appear, Will sighed with relief. With a slurping noise, the yellow lamb slid out onto the ground. Chrissie pulled it around to its mother’s nose, clearing the mucous from its nostrils and rubbing its tiny chest, willing it to breathe while the ewe began licking its back and head. The tiny lamb shook itself, trying to stand within minutes of birth, wanting to suckle.
“We’d better make sure it gets a good feed,” said Chrissie, deftly flipping the sheep over so that its back was against her knees. “It’s so important that lambs get the colostrum.”
“Colostrum?” Will repeated. It was as if Chrissie was speaking a foreign language.
“The first milk. It’s full of antibodies from the mother, to help stop any infection before the lamb develops its own immune system.”
Reaching for a teat, she squeezed out some milk. “You see,” she said, leaning down to try and persuade the lamb to latch on to its mother. When it began to suckle voraciously, she smiled, catching Will’s eye. Her joy was contagious, and he smiled back.
“So it’s going to be okay?”
Chrissie nodded. “I hope so.”
She stood up and released the ewe, stepping back to leave the lamb with its mother. For a few minutes, they watched them bond.
“Do you know,” she said after a while, “I must have seen this well over a thousand times, but it never fails to move me.”
“Well, this is the first time for me and it seems like a miracle,” Will said.
“It is,” she agreed. “Life’s miracle.”
The lamb was standing strongly on its legs, and Chrissie began to move away. “Come on... I think it’ll be fine now. The rain seems to be letting up, too. We’ll stop by again once we’ve checked the rest of the flock, and if it’s still okay then I’ll be back to take a look first thing in the morning.”
“And that’s it?” asked Will. “They’ll just stay here out in the open?”
Chrissie nodded. “If it was a very wet or cold night, or if the lamb seemed weak I’d take them in, but it’s a big, fine, single lamb. These fell sheep are tough, you know.”
In the next half hour they found two more newborn single lambs, which were strong and healthy, and a set of sickly twins.
“We’d better take them into the warm,” Chrissie said. “Just to keep an eye on them and make sure that they’re getting enough milk.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” asked Will.
“I’ll put the ramp on the trailer down while you keep the ewe here, and then we’ll just have to persuade her to walk in. It’s usually quite easy because they tend to follow their lambs.”
Will’s anxiety rose at the idea of seeing to the sheep on his own, but he had no other choice but to deal with it. As Chrissie disappeared into the darkness, the fell felt like the loneliest place in the world. Never had he been so out of his comfort zone. To his relief she was back in minutes.
“Right, then,” she said, lifting the lambs by their back legs and letting their mother get their scent before walking up the trailer ramp. “You help guide her.”
Will did as Chrissie asked. How had he managed to get himself into this situation. His shoes were wet and he had mud all over his trousers, but seeing the ewe with her newborn lambs was an honest and real experience, a lifetime away from the boardroom where he’d been just that afternoon.
“True mothering instinct,” he cried as the sheep bravely followed her lambs up the ramp, her love for them much stronger than her fear for herself.
“Strongest instinct in the world,” agreed Chrissie, latching the trailer shut. The contours of her face seemed softer as she looked over at the ewe and her lambs. It held warmth and caring, and he found himself wondering why she was on her own. It seemed kind of sad that someone who had so much tenderness and care to give only had animals, and not other people, to share it with.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get them home.”
After a brief detour to check on the single lamb they’d helped first—who was still suckling happily—they headed back to the farm. The darkness was total, soft and black, their route picked out by the yellow lights of the elderly tractor, and it was starting to drizzle again.
He glanced at Chrissie, who was concentrating on driving, her chin jutting forward as she peered out into the night. A strand of hair had escaped and was stuck against her cheek. Will almost reached over to push it back, but quickly withdrew his hand. He felt so close to her after all they’d been through tonight, yet in truth, he hardly knew her. He sat back to take stock. He was out here in the middle of nowhere with someone he’d only recently met, soaked, cold to the core and way out of his comfort zone. And yet he felt...alive. He’d achieved a lot in his career, and before things went wrong he’d been proud of himself. But he’d never felt this type of satisfaction before. This was life-and-death stuff, real and raw. And Chrissie took it all in stride.
Chrissie parked the tractor beside the barn and cut the engine; it rumbled into silence and she climbed out.
“If you let the ramp down I’ll open the doors and we’ll get them into a pen,” she said. “Then we can go back to the house. I guess I owe you another coffee.”
It occurred to Will that she was assuming he was going to stay and help. Funnily enough, he realized that he wanted to.
The barn was barely lit by the few warm yellow lights that glowed down from its lofty ceiling. Will breathed in the unfamiliar aromas that mingled together, the sweetness of meadow hay and the strong smell of sheep, the delicious aroma of feed and something else, something he couldn’t identify.
Chrissie persuaded the ewe to follow her and the lambs to a row of pens. “You close the gate as soon as they’re in, and then we can make sure the lambs have suckled,” she said to Will.
He did exactly that, feeling a lifetime away from his previous life in the city and the courtroom.
“You’re a natural,” she declared, smiling at him as he pushed the ewe in through the gate and fastened it. Their eyes met and held. She looked so tough and yet so vulnerable that for a moment Will felt like taking her in his arms and holding her tight. He took a step toward her but stopped.
“You must be tired,” he said. It wasn’t like him to have such impulsive notions.
Chrissie nodded. “I’m always tired at this time of year. The night and the day seem to fade into one with catnaps in between.”
“Should we go and get that coffee, then?”
She laughed, her face glowing in the soft light. “Good idea. I just need to see to the orphan and its adoptive mother. Oh, and check on all the other animals.”
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Please, you’ve already done so much.”
“I’ve enjoyed it,” he said with a broad smile, pushing back a lock of damp hair from his face. “In a strange kind of way.”
When Chrissie motioned for him to follow her, he didn’t hesitate. “I’ll see to the other animals then,” she said. “Perhaps you could go and make sure that the ewe is still letting her adopted lamb suckle and check that the last lot are settling in. Oh, yes, and there’s an orphan to feed, too. Fortunately it’s a big, strong lamb, but his mother died just this morning. I’ll bring a bottle back with me.”
The gratification he felt at being given his own tasks surprised him almost as much as the casual way she announced the ewe’s death. “That’s terrible,” he said.
Chrissie shrugged. “It happens. There are always farmers looking for orphans, though, so he’ll soon have a new home. Make sure that those new lambs are warmed up and that they’re suckling—I won’t be long.”
Will watched her walk away, her strides confident and sure. Was there any situation that might faze her? he thought, with a surge of admiration.
Will was so focused on the lambs that he didn’t notice Chrissie standing beside him until she cleared her throat. He looked up to see her watching him with a thoughtful frown. “So, what kind of lawyer are you, anyway?” she asked, totally out of the blue.
“I was a criminal lawyer...defense,” he told her, wondering why they were standing in her barn, cold and wet and tired, talking about him. “But that’s all in the past—another life. These two seem fine...is there anything else I can do to help? I really don’t mind.”
“Okay, then,” she said, handing him a bottle. It warmed his hand, reminding him of just how cold he was everywhere else. “You can feed the lamb...unless you want to get going?”
“No,” Will said quickly. “I’d like to. You’ll have to show me how, though.” She bent toward the little lamb, and he noticed her hair had come loose; it cascaded down her back and over her shoulders, shorter wisps framing her face and emphasizing her brilliant blue eyes. Her skin glowed with health, he noted, but how could she be suntanned when it was still winter?
“Have you been on holiday?” he asked on impulse, and she burst out laughing.
“A holiday—what’s that? Now who’s asking daft questions? Here we are, soaked and exhausted and asking each other ridiculous things. Come on, let’s get the lamb fed and then I’ll make you that coffee.”