Page 69 of Christmas at Castle Dunrannoch
The frown lines across his forehead eased a little. He brought his palm to her cheek and his lips curled up, giving her his half-smile.
“Sure thing, little bear. I’d be glad of the company.”
It had been quitea while since Ursula had ridden, not since early in the summer, on the Arrington estate, but the mare was an easy mount, responding to the gentlest of squeezes to her girth.
They set out in the direction Cameron had spoken about. He’d wanted to check on the cattle, so that was what they’d do.
She thought it would give them some good news to report, that the cows were fine. Except that, as they approached, she saw they were anything but fine.
Cameron had been right about the snow melting down here. Wide swathes of grass had been exposed under the sun’s warmth. No wonder the cattle had been feasting. They’d have thought all their birthdays had come at once after having to scrape through the snow with their hooves these past days, revealing one small portion at a time.
There were twenty of the great, shaggy cows in all, and they were all lying prone, like balloons with legs sticking out, their stomachs blown up tight. A couple were kicking at their bellies, but most lay still. It looked uncomfortable in the extreme but the cows were making barely any noise.
“They’ve been gorging alright.” Rye jumped down from Charon and helped Ursula do the same. “See how fast they’re breathing, with their necks stretched back and their tongues protruding. They must have been like this an hour or two. The bloat isn’t just causing their abdomens to swell; it’s putting pressure on their lungs.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Ursula looked from one cow to the next. Their eyes were bulging but their lowing was faint—an occasional anxious sound, as if they knew what was to come and had already accepted it.
“There might be.” Rye leant over the cow nearest them. “I’ve only done this once before, but the results were immediate.” He was feeling between the cow’s ribs. “There’s a certain place. If you puncture correctly, you can free the gas. It’s not ideal, but it’s the quickest solution. I don’t know what else to try. There’s no time to ride for medicine; they’ll be dead before we make it back.”
“You’re going to cut them open?” Ursula felt a wave a nausea rising. “Won’t it hurt them?”
“I’ve no doubt it will, but it’s that or leave them to die.” From the look on Rye’s face, she could see he didn’t like the idea either, but he was doing what had to be done.
“We just need something sharp. I usually carry a knife, back home, but I’ve nothing in these pockets.” He thumped at his head. “Damnation. With all that’s happened today, I wasn’t thinking about what we’d do if we found the cattle in need of help.”
Ursula looked again at all the cows. They had to do something. No animal should die in pain. The moor was their home, but its bounty had caused this. The very place that had provided the cows with fodder had turned against them. It was too cruel.
Turning her face to the mountains, she felt the breeze lifting the loose strands of hair from around her face. The sun was warmer than it had been in days. Truly, the moor was beautiful. She wondered how it would look in spring, and in the summer. Did the hillsides turn mauve with blooming heather, as she’d seen in paintings? How much she’d like to see that, to admire the moorland in all its seasons.
The wind tugged at her felt hat and she raised a hand to secure it, her fingers feeling for the pin that held it in place.
The pin!
Of course. It would be sharp enough, wouldn’t it?
Swiftly, she removed it, holding it out to Rye, showing him the very thing that might help them.
He took it from her with a grin.
“Looks like you just saved them, little bear.”
By the timeRye was done, they’d gotten every cow back on its feet. Mostly, the cattle looked disoriented, staggering slightly, clustering together, giving their neighbours friendly licks.
Had they known how close they’d come to death? Such animals were thought to be stupid, but Ursula wasn’t so sure. Several of them nudged Rye with their noses, as if giving thanks for the relief he’d brought them.
Finally, the two of them drove the cattle away from where the clover had been exposed, kicking snow back over where they could.
“You did it!” Ursula beamed at him. It had been a marvellous thing to watch—Rye at work, doing something she’d never dreamed possible. Dunrannoch had struck lucky the day Rye Dalreagh came back to claim his title.
“We did it.” Rye wrapped his arm about her shoulders. “You were braver than many a man I’ve seen, helping get these ladies upright. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
She knew it wasn’t true. He’d done all the work. She’d pushed alongside him, but it had been his strength that had helped the cows gain their legs again.
The sun was already dipping but she didn’t want to go back to all the bustle and commotion that had nothing to do with her—to the family life from which she was excluded.
She wanted to stay with Rye. Just he and her. They were a good team. She’d been forcing him to learn a whole lot of nonsense these past days—things he mostly would never need to know, things she’d dredged up from her time at Monsieur Ventissori’s Academy. Rye had never once complained. He’d knuckled down because he thought it was the right thing to do.
She might have been teaching him, but there was a whole lot she was learning—and not just about cows.
