She glanced at Lilly. “What do you think? Looking like the real deal?”
“I think so.” She shrugged her shoulders and held her pudgy little hand out for a sample.
“Just as well there is a plastic table cloth covering the table—not sure I would like to try and get this stuff off the furniture. Show me what you can do with it.” Del took a seat opposite and watched as the little girl rolled and pinched and prodded the play dough into shapes.
Lilly was ecstatic and giggled happily as she handed over a play dough chocolate chip biscuit to Del. “You have to eat it.”
Horror rushed up Del’s throat. “Um…I don’t think I can do that.”
“Silly Delilah, you have to pretend.”
“Oh…oh right. I can do that.” She picked up the cookie and pretended to nibble at the edges. “Oh my, what a great baker you are. If I’d known you were this good, you could have made lunch all by yourself yesterday. In fact, you are on lunch duty today for being so clever.”
Lilly grabbed her tummy and laughed as if that was the funniest thing she had heard in ages.
“How about I make you one more color before I start on lunch. I doubt if your dad would be happy with just this for lunch after all the hard work he is putting in.”
“Yes, please. Green.”
“Green it shall be.”
When Lilly had another color, an assortment of kitchen utensils to mold her creations, and a large plastic container to keep them in, Del went about preparing lunch for the men and Royce before she headed down to watch him work. The thought of tagging the lambs made her stomach roll but she did promise, and there was no way she was going to let him down. Not now he was warming to her after a slow start to their friendship. She cut up a plate of fruit and buttered half a loaf of bread before searching the pantry for sandwich fillings. When she had a couple lined up, she switched on the toasted sandwich maker and set to work. The oven was on low and, one by one, Delilah slid the cooked sandwiches into the tray to keep warm as Lilly created her masterpieces at the table.
“Come on, Lilly, time to go and watch your brother do his thing with the lambs.”
She wiped her hands and took a deep breath. She could do this. Her throat convulsed as she imagined poking tags through the lambs’ soft white ears, making them bleed and cry out. Swallowing hard, she filled a glass, looking out the kitchen window down the driveway to the sheds. For Royce she would go and watch him tagging those cute little lambs she had helped bottle feed.
Placing her hands across her rolling stomach, Del breathed in and out of her mouth. This was ridiculous. How could she even think of making a life here if this was the way she was going to react around lambing season? Admittedly, they were cute little bundles of fluff. Even when they pooped on her shoes, she still managed to hold it together. But the thought of taking an implement and making holes in their ears while they bleated and looked at her with huge big eyes did her head in.
Lilly stood beside her, looking up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing at all, sweetheart. Let’s go.” Holding tight onto Lilly’s hand, they headed down to the sheds to bond with Royce.
The noise reached their ears and she felt a moment of panic as Lilly pulled her toward the lambs’ pen.
“Dad was just about to come and get you.” Royce looked at her between the rails of the pen he stood in with Blake, who was doing his best to grip onto a wriggling lamb. Delilah had to hold onto the fence to stop her knees quivering.
“You alright, Del?” Blake stood up and put his hand over the railing, cupping her chin. “You look kinda pale to me.”
“No, no, I’m fine. Really.” She swallowed hard and looked at the tagging gun in his hand.
“You a bit squeamish over this thing?” He held it up, frowned, and looked at her again. “No worse than you getting those pretty little studs in your ears.”
She couldn’t tell him she’d passed out then either. Such an embarrassing day that was.
“It’s okay. I told Royce I would be here to watch him, and here I am. Could we get on with it, please? Lunch is in the oven.” She blinked a few times before plastering a grin on her face and turning to Royce, trying to hide her fear. “So, tell me what you’re going to do here, Royce.”
“Well, since we are keeping these lambs for breeding stock, Dad said they have to be tagged so when the time comes, we will know who they are.” He grinned at her as he held tight to one of the lambs. It wriggled and try to free itself, bleating mournfully. The cry started the rest of the small mob off in a chorus of bleats.
“Here you go, son.” Blake helped him hold the lamb firmly between his knees and then passed over the gun. Royce took it and, with his tongue poking from between his lips, he focused on getting the gun positioned
