castles, we were in a bad way.
“Granda,” I began, lowering my head into my hands. “I’m not sure we can—”
“Hello?”
I sat up. Gyp, Floss and Vixen sprang to attention too. Before I could move to stop them they were running, a black-and-white torrent, in the direction of that uncertain greeting. I darted after them. They weren’t vicious dogs, but they could overreact in defence of their lord and master, and the sight of them bearing down in a pack would scare the daylights out of a stranger…
Out of Cameron. He was standing by the gate, one hand still on its latch. In the other he held several carrier bags from the Blackwater farm-supply store. His face was a picture. The dogs had surrounded him and dropped to the ground, muzzles low, haunches tensed to spring.
“Hi,” he said with fragile calm when he saw me. “Any thoughts or advice?”
“Yes. Just keep still.”
“Is this normal?”
“No, actually. I can’t think what they’re playing at.” I glanced behind me. Harry had appeared in the doorway. His shoulders were quivering oddly. God, I hoped I hadn’t upset him. “Granda, do you want to call off your hounds?”
“Aye, in a minute.”
“Now would be better, if you could. What the hell are they doing?”
“They’re…” He lapsed to wheezing silence. I swung to face him. Slowly it dawned on me that the old sod was shaking with laughter. “They’re after rounding yon lad up.”
I had another look. He was right. This was what the dogs did when a sheep had detached itself from the flock. Apparently it was the funniest thing Harry had seen in some time. I couldn’t remember when he’d last laughed like this. It was quiet, and he was almost expressionless, but tears were beginning to run down his cheeks.
“Well,” I said, as repressively as I could, “there’s no need. He’ll come quietly. Won’t you, Cameron?”
“Given the chance, I’d be happy to.”
Harry pulled himself together. He uttered one of his weird, coded whistles, the ones I could imitate but never make work for me, and the collies leapt up as if pulled by invisible strings and loped back to his side. He jerked his head curtly at Cameron. “Where’s yon lad been?”
He seemed to be having trouble with the name. I knew that was how some forms of senility started. Then, he also just sounded like his curmudgeonly self.
“ Cameron ,” I said patiently, “has been to Blackwaterfoot to get some things he needed. Is that all right with you?”
“Aye, today. Work shifts start tomorrow, though. Bring him in to dinner, Nichol. He’ll want some meat glued on those runt-pup bones if he means to survive around here.”
He turned and trudged into the house. I was alone in the sunshine, the coppery westering light, with Cameron. I didn’t quite know what to do. Left to impulse only, I’d have gone up and hugged him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sublimating the urge into an awkward folding of my arms. “He’s so blisteringly bloody rude.”
“I think I quite like him.”
“You came back.”
“Yes. I’d have been here sooner, but I got off at the wrong stop. Had to walk a mile or so down the road.”
“Oh.” I overcame my paralysis enough to go and take some of the bags out of his hands. “The driver would’ve told you where to get off if you’d asked.”
“I didn’t want to look like a stranger.”
We set off together across the yard. We were shoulder to shoulder. I didn’t know why that seemed to take the edge off the twilight wind and drive to far distance my conviction that I couldn’t live on or work this land anymore. “Did you get kitted up, then?”
“I think so. I bought the things you said. Can I pull this off, though? He’s already seen I don’t know one end of a sheep from the other.”
“So he won’t have high expectations. And remember, you’re free, so he’ll get what he’s paying for.”
Cameron chuckled. “Aye. He’ll certainly get that much.”
“And I’ll
“Granda,” I began, lowering my head into my hands. “I’m not sure we can—”
“Hello?”
I sat up. Gyp, Floss and Vixen sprang to attention too. Before I could move to stop them they were running, a black-and-white torrent, in the direction of that uncertain greeting. I darted after them. They weren’t vicious dogs, but they could overreact in defence of their lord and master, and the sight of them bearing down in a pack would scare the daylights out of a stranger…
Out of Cameron. He was standing by the gate, one hand still on its latch. In the other he held several carrier bags from the Blackwater farm-supply store. His face was a picture. The dogs had surrounded him and dropped to the ground, muzzles low, haunches tensed to spring.
“Hi,” he said with fragile calm when he saw me. “Any thoughts or advice?”
“Yes. Just keep still.”
“Is this normal?”
“No, actually. I can’t think what they’re playing at.” I glanced behind me. Harry had appeared in the doorway. His shoulders were quivering oddly. God, I hoped I hadn’t upset him. “Granda, do you want to call off your hounds?”
“Aye, in a minute.”
“Now would be better, if you could. What the hell are they doing?”
“They’re…” He lapsed to wheezing silence. I swung to face him. Slowly it dawned on me that the old sod was shaking with laughter. “They’re after rounding yon lad up.”
I had another look. He was right. This was what the dogs did when a sheep had detached itself from the flock. Apparently it was the funniest thing Harry had seen in some time. I couldn’t remember when he’d last laughed like this. It was quiet, and he was almost expressionless, but tears were beginning to run down his cheeks.
“Well,” I said, as repressively as I could, “there’s no need. He’ll come quietly. Won’t you, Cameron?”
“Given the chance, I’d be happy to.”
Harry pulled himself together. He uttered one of his weird, coded whistles, the ones I could imitate but never make work for me, and the collies leapt up as if pulled by invisible strings and loped back to his side. He jerked his head curtly at Cameron. “Where’s yon lad been?”
He seemed to be having trouble with the name. I knew that was how some forms of senility started. Then, he also just sounded like his curmudgeonly self.
“ Cameron ,” I said patiently, “has been to Blackwaterfoot to get some things he needed. Is that all right with you?”
“Aye, today. Work shifts start tomorrow, though. Bring him in to dinner, Nichol. He’ll want some meat glued on those runt-pup bones if he means to survive around here.”
He turned and trudged into the house. I was alone in the sunshine, the coppery westering light, with Cameron. I didn’t quite know what to do. Left to impulse only, I’d have gone up and hugged him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sublimating the urge into an awkward folding of my arms. “He’s so blisteringly bloody rude.”
“I think I quite like him.”
“You came back.”
“Yes. I’d have been here sooner, but I got off at the wrong stop. Had to walk a mile or so down the road.”
“Oh.” I overcame my paralysis enough to go and take some of the bags out of his hands. “The driver would’ve told you where to get off if you’d asked.”
“I didn’t want to look like a stranger.”
We set off together across the yard. We were shoulder to shoulder. I didn’t know why that seemed to take the edge off the twilight wind and drive to far distance my conviction that I couldn’t live on or work this land anymore. “Did you get kitted up, then?”
“I think so. I bought the things you said. Can I pull this off, though? He’s already seen I don’t know one end of a sheep from the other.”
“So he won’t have high expectations. And remember, you’re free, so he’ll get what he’s paying for.”
Cameron chuckled. “Aye. He’ll certainly get that much.”
“And I’ll
Similar Books
