CHAPTER 8

Three days later, Evie wakes to birdsong. She listens in the gray morning light and guesses by the high-pitched trill, it’s a lark. She eases out of bed without disturbing the sleeping Claudette and Florette, carrying her shoes down the hallway so as not to wake Grandpa.

She sits on the kitchen step, pulling her boots on. The steps have been worn smooth over the years and, as Evie runs her palms over them, she wonders how many times her mama and papa would have stood here.

Claudette and Florette appear, yawning and meowing, weaving in and out of her legs. She pats their sleek bodies, from the tops of their heads down to the tips of their tails. They follow her as she heads off to do her chores.

Rhino doesn’t stir when Evie enters the stables. He continues to snooze while she tops up his water bucket and carries over six bundles of lucerne from the feed room for him to have for breakfast. She nestles in the straw next to Rhino and her fingers move gently, scratching him behind his right ear. Rhino huffs and sighs in his sleep.

Evie jumps up and collects the eggs for Cook. The ladies now nest in the stables after laying their eggs everywhere throughout the straw. Evie prays she doesn’t step on one. She holds a toasty, warm, speckled brown egg against her cheek and thinks of Mama and her warm hugs and an ache grabs her at the back of her throat. She still catches herself calling out for her or about to blurt out a question for Papa. But it’s then she remembers, they’re not here. They’re gone. Forever.

Evie stares at Rhino snuffling in his sleep. Yes, Mama and Papa are gone, but she doesn’t feel so alone now. In the last four days, Rhino has become the center of her universe. And she, his. Evie has spent hours curled into the crook of his neck reading while he huffles in his sleep. Sometimes she just daydreams, staring into the rafters. But she’s also jumped up for water whenever Rhino’s smacked his lips together, and hay and bran and molasses when his tummy’s rumbled. She’s bathed his sore eyes and removed ticks and tickled his hairy ears. During this time, Evie’s listened. She’s opened her heart to Rhino. And he to her. And through eye contact and facial expressions, they communicate in a language that is not made of words. They feel each other’s thoughts and feelings.

Kissing Rhino on the nose, Evie places the eggs in a basket. She leaves them in the pantry for Cook and, grabbing a pail, she walks to the house paddock in search of Dominique, their handsome Friesian. Her nature is indifferent, but on better acquaintance she’s a likeable cow. When Cook tries to milk her Dominique slaps her in the face with her poo-covered tail, steps on her feet and knocks the milk bucket over. But Dominique lets Evie milk her.

It’s raining again, but it’s not wetting rain. Sparkling droplets sit on Evie’s coat and her hair turns to frizz. She spots Dominique not far away, dozing under the overhang of a cypress tree.

Evie clicks her tongue to let her know she’s coming. She approaches Dominique front-on so the cow can see her. She kneels down and stares into her big brown eyes. Dominique breathes her in and gives a long-winded, lazy moo. Evie scratches Dominique’s back on her favorite itching spot. After ten minutes of divine itching, she turns her head toward the dairy. Evie walks on ahead as the cow plods along behind her.

Evie’s calmness reassures Dominique. Her milk flows and fills the pail in no time.

Skimming the top of the milk, Evie scoops out a small bowl of cream for Claudette and Florette. They yowl with anticipation.

Evie lets Francie and Freddie out of their kennels, ruffling their ears before they bound off to the dairy to slobber up any spilled milk.

Back at the stables she leads Bernard out of the stable yard and into the paddocks to graze. She waits for him at the open gate and in passing he bows before her, lowering his head. Evie blows good morning softly into his nostrils and rubs his ears.

With all her chores done, she wanders back to the kitchen with the milk.

“Thank yer, child,” says Cook as she bustles around and removes freshly baked loaves of bread from the oven. They smell delicious and Evie’s stomach rumbles. She can’t remember the last time she felt this hungry!

Sitting at the kitchen table with Albine burk burking in her lap, Evie sighs with a huff.

She’s waiting for breakfast. She’s waiting for Rhino to wake up. She’s waiting for the rain to stop. She’s waiting for Grandpa to report the shipwreck.

That’s a lot of waiting for a girl – and waiting is not something Evie’s very good at!