Chapter 21 Alec
TWENTY-ONE
ALEC
“Come on,” I murmur later that evening, tilting the milk bottle. The tiny lamb in my arms wriggles, shoving the teat away weakly. I close my eyes.
I’m exhausted. It’s almost ten p.m., and I’ve been awake for sixty-five hours. I should be doing my perimeter checks. Instead, I’ve been kneeling on the floor of the lambing barn, trying to feed this runt lamb for over forty minutes.
“Eat,” I tell her, stroking her soft little ear. “You need your strength.”
She kicks me in the stomach. Around me, the other sheep rustle quietly in their hay, already half asleep.
Just cull it, my father’s voice commands in my ear. No point wasting time on faulty livestock.
You’re far too precious with the animals, boy.
They’re not pets. They’re assets. You put them down when they stop being useful.
The lamb shivers, looking up at me with huge dark eyes. A black feeling ripples through me.
I am nothing like my father. I’ll feed this lamb if it takes me all night.
“I know you want it from your mum, sweetheart,” I coax. “But she can’t feed you right now. It’s got to be the bottle.” Across the pen, Viola cuddles with her two baby boys. The lamb in my arms stares at them and baas again. The sound is almost sad.
I swallow a sigh. It’s been…a difficult day.
I didn’t sleep all night. I never can when it’s storming. My brain keeps me alert. In case something happens.
Which meant I was wide awake to hear Fraser and Summer through the walls. The memory of Summer’s sighs and gasps makes me ache.
I grit my teeth. I don’t want Summer here. When she’s not setting off fire alarms and ordering trucks of adult toys to the farm, she’s flirting with both of my best friends.
My mind goes back to the conversation I overheard this morning. Summer kissed them both. I couldn’t believe it. Fraser, I understand, but Cameron?
She’s distracting them. Making them fight over her. Leading them on. I don’t want her here, trailing around the farm in her wee skirts, all soft lips and shining hair and—
I scrub my eyes. I am so tired. “Please,” I beg the lamb in my arms. “Please, please, just drink.”
The lamb shivers and turns away from the bottle, and my shoulders slump. I hear the barn door open behind me, and a bright voice starts talking.
“I just feel like, if I do two skincare routines back-to-back, what am I even saying, Lulu? Pores equal death?”
I look up. Summer is wandering inside the barn, talking on the phone. She’s wearing a short skirt which flaps around her thighs, and a jumper I know is Fraser’s. My chest feels odd.
“If you think it’ll do well, I guess…” she says, biting her bottom lip. “I just…I can’t wait for this all to blow over. Honestly, it makes me feel like—” Another pause. “Oh, sorry, of course, have a great evening. Love you loads!” She hangs up and stares at the phone, her smile fading.
For a few seconds, I get to see what Summer looks like when she’s not animated and sparkling for someone. Her eyes go blank. She looks like she’s just switched off.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
She screams, almost dropping her phone. “Alec! I’m sorry. I just wanted to say hi to the lambs before I went to bed. I can go—”
She starts backing up out of the barn. Why is she so nervous? She’s not like that around Fraser and Cameron.
I wonder if I scare her. I suppose I did kidnap her last night. Shame burns through me. I overreacted completely. It was a minor storm at worst. Summer would have been fine in the cabin. I always get edgy when bad weather rolls in, but it’s been years since I lost my head like that.
The first year after the accident, Cameron and Fraser used to have to stay in my room with me whenever a storm hit. If they were out of my sight, I’d worry they’d gone outside and go into the rain searching for them.
Summer’s looking at me like she’s expecting to be told off. I force myself to soften my voice. “You can stay. I’m just finishing with the bottle babies.”
“Yes?” She comes closer, peering at the lamb in my arms. “Do you need help?”
“Help?” How could she possibly help me?
She nods. “Crumpet likes me. I might be able to make her drink.”
“Crumpet?”
“Yep, I figured, since she didn’t have a name yet, someone should give her one.”
I stare at Summer. In the low light of the barn’s lanterns, her blonde hair is lit up like gold around her head. She shifts from foot to foot.
“Summer,” I say slowly. “Did you name a pedigree Bluefaced Leicester Crumpet?”
“It suits her, don’t you think?” She pushes open the door to the pen.
At the sound of her voice, the lamb—Crumpet—perks up. I watch in astonishment as Summer kneels on the straw-covered floor and pulls her into her lap.
“Hey, baby.” She laughs. “Did you miss me?” She cuddles the lamb to her and then reaches out for the bottle.
“Are you gonna be good and eat your dinner?” She offers the bottle, and Crumpet immediately latches on and starts to drink.
“Aww, yes, you’re hungry, aren’t you? You cutie-pie.
” She presses a kiss on the lamb’s ear. Crumpet wriggles, and Summer almost drops her.
I’m reaching across before I know it. “Here,” I say, adjusting her grip on the sheep. Her wrist is easily swallowed by my fingers.
Summer shivers. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “Um. Sorry for naming your sheep. You can change her name if you want.” She blushes. “Obviously. I mean, she’s yours.”
I sit back and watch as Crumpet paddles her feet against Summer’s stomach happily. “I was worried she might starve to death,” I say flatly. “And you can feed her. I think that gives you naming rights.” I guess Fraser wasn’t exaggerating their bond after all.
She gives me a shy smile. “I don’t know why she likes me. It’s weird.”
“It’s not uncommon,” I tell her. “Animals have their preferences like people do. Some prefer women.” She oohs, and for some reason, my mouth keeps talking.
“My family used to breed horses at the farm. My mother was always brought in when my father was struggling to break one. Nine times out of ten, they’d respond to her far better. ”
“Does your mum live in the village?” Summer asks, struggling to hold the squirming lamb. “I went last night, it’s so cute.”
Everything inside me stills. Turns to stone. “She passed,” I say quietly.
Summer’s mouth falls open in a little pink O. “Ohmygod,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”
I adjust the lamb’s face closer to the bottle with a finger. “It’s hardly your fault. She died when I was sixteen. Car accident.” She’d been on her way to pick me up from a tennis lesson. To this day, I’ve not forgiven myself for not insisting on taking the bus.
My father never forgave me either.
Summer takes my hand. Her fingernails sparkle prettily against the rough scars crossing my palm, and I stare at them numbly.
“I’m sorry,” she says again, her deep eyes soft with sympathy. “That’s horrible.”
I don’t respond, just look at our joined hands. My mouth is dry, and blood is thudding through me. It’s not until I shift my weight and feel the tightness in my jeans that I realise what’s happening.
I’m getting hard.
Jesus. Summer’s just holding my hand, and I’m getting turned on. What is wrong with me?
I yank my hand away and close my eyes, collecting myself. “Summer,” I say firmly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Spring is our busiest season. It’s when we do most of the shearing, we’re taking care of the mothers and their young, and we have to deal with a lot of storms.”
“Okay,” she says. Crumpet finishes her bottle and snuggles into her chest.
“I need my farmhands in top form,” I continue. “We deal with a lot of heavy equipment. It could be dangerous when the weather is temperamental.”
“Mhm.” She shifts, and her skirt hem reveals a few more inches of creamy thigh.
I force the words out. “I overheard Cameron and Fraser arguing. Over you. It sounded like you’ve kissed them both?”
She goes still. “Oh my God,” she whispers.
“Of course, I don’t want to tell you what to do with your body,” I say carefully. “But I need them to be able to cooperate right now. If you could at least…make a decision between the two of them, that would be incredibly helpful.”
Or maybe refrain from flirting with my friends altogether.
Summer looks absolutely horrified. “I am so sorry, I’m so embarrassed. I’m pretty sure they’re not fighting over me, though. Cameron didn’t seem that interested—”
I cut her off. “Did you kiss them both?”
I didn’t think it was possible for a person to go so pink. “Yes. Yes.” She sets the lamb back down and stands. “You’re right. I’ll go and talk to them right now.”
Before I can say another word, she backs out of the pen and flees the barn. As the doors shut behind her, I could swear the light in the building dims slightly.
I look down at Crumpet, who’s licking her lips and padding in a circle on the floor of the pen, ready to fall asleep.
Well. That’s one problem sorted, I suppose. I stand slowly, my bones aching.
I need some damn sleep.