Page 79 of A Flower for Angus

“Done,” Andrea declared. “Now eat your food. I’d hate to have to narc on you to Angus,” she teased. “No telling what he might do.”

Poppy knew what he would do but she wasn’t telling her daughter. “What would I ever do without you, honey?” she finally asked, her eyes tearing up. “I don’t know what I did to deserve such a smart daughter, but you are amazing.”

“You can treat me to a Heath blizzard,” Andrea replied eagerly.

“Done!”

They both laughed.

Chapter 19

Angus wiped the sweatfrom his forehead and stepped out of the noise and heat of the shearing shed for a break. Taking a metal tin from the nail on the side of the table, he put it under one of the orange thermoses and pressed the button for cold water to fill it. It was a tin that had been in his family for three generations now.

With his sweat towel hanging over his bare shoulder—he worked shirtless as did all the men when shearing because of the heat—he used one hand to shield his eyes from the waning sun as he stared up into the sky. They were starting to lose the day.

Soon, the overhead light strings would fizzle and burst into life. The nights insects would be buzzing around as the shearing continued inside the shed that stank of sheep’s fear and men’s sweat. Being short of hands meant they had to take turns and work around the clock to fill the orders on time. Sheep were the lifeblood of Neamh.

It was the way of the shepherd.

Since Angus didn’t have a wife or children at home, he spent the majority of his time working extra shifts. He was bone tired. With his towel, he swiped the sweat off his chest and neck and filled his tin again.

As always, his thoughts turned to Poppy. What was she doing right now? Did she miss him as much as he missed her? Even Lucerne’s haggis had tasted like cardboard at dinner earlier. Without Poppy, the flavor had just seemed to go out of everything.

It had been five days now and she hadn’t even called. Or texted. He’d called her twice and both times it had gone to voicemail. Either she was really mad for the way he left, or she was relieved he was gone and didn’t want to reconnect. Whatever the case, there was a dark hole the size of Scotland in his heart while he waited.

“Ye didn’t eat much at dinner again, ye old fart.”

Angus turned and glared at Darro. “What business is it of yers, lad?” he asked testily.

Darro’s eyebrows shot up. “I wouldn’t want ye to be slacking off because ye aren’t eating enough.”

“Ye just ain’t happy unless ye’re being a slavedriver, are ye?” Angus complained. He hadn’t talked about Poppy, and no one had pressed him after he briefly told them she would be staying in the states when he returned. Darro knew him too well though, and knew he was hurting. He just wasn’t ready to talk about it.

One of Lucerne’s young cousins had been coming in to help them out while Poppy was gone. She’d told Darro to hold her job if they could before she left and they had agreed. Since they hadn’t gotten any notice from her, technically, she was still Neamh’s housekeeper. As fragile a thread as that was, Angus clung to it.

Darro clapped him on the shoulder. “Get out of here and get some sleep. Be back in the morning at 7:00 o’clock.”

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