The lamb cried out and thrashed around between his legs, pivoting to free itself. Both ended up on the dirty straw, and Royce laughed out loud as he lay on his back. The lamb ran to the corner of the pen, shaking its tagged ear.
“Oh, the poor thing.” Delilah held her hand over her chest, eyes watering as the animal cried. Within seconds it stopped, and she tilted her head looking at Blake. “That’s it? It’s all okay now?” She was puzzled by the lamb’s short-lived reaction.
He nodded his head and grinned at her before reaching down and gripping his son’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “Yep, that’s it. It doesn’t hurt for long. They pretty much forget it straight away, especially if there’s food.”
“I got upset for the poor thing, and look at it now.” She gestured to the animal happily chewing on a tuft of grass at the edge of the pen.
“Yeah. Okay, Royce, grab another one.” Blake smiled and took the gun, placing another tag in its jaws ready for his son. “The girls have lunch ready by the sound of it, and I’m famished.”
By the time the lambs all sported new tags, Delilah’s stomach had calmed and she watched Royce hand back the gun to his father.
Blake ruffled his hair. “Good job, son. Good job.”
The boy glanced over at Lilly and Delilah.
“You are really good at that. Well done, Royce. Your father will wonder how he managed to do that without you soon.” She reached out and patted him on the shoulder, pleased to see a soft pink tinge on his cheeks. “I bet that made you hungry too. How about lunch now? After such a great job, I think you could do with a break. Those little suckers are pretty feisty for such small animals.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Lambs don’t really understand what’s going on. But that’s okay because I know what I’m doing now.” He swaggered out of the pen, and brushed dirt and straw from his jeans.
“Good job, kid.” Bluey patted him on the back so enthusiastically it almost knocked him over. “Might let you do their tails next.”
“Tails, what do you mean?” Delilah stepped back, wary once again.
“Breathe woman. Geez, it doesn’t hurt them. Well not much anyways. We put rings on their tails so they drop off. Only way to keep them clean so they don’t get fly struck. Not something most city folks understand. Damned if I know why people think we are cruel to the animals for fun. It’s all for their benefit, not ours.”
She looked up to see Blake watching her, a puzzled frown on his face.
“Oh right. I’ve heard that somewhere, I’m sure I have. No doubt Royce will be a dab hand at that too. Good job, buddy. If you will excuse me, I’ll hurry up and put the kettle on.” She scurried away as fast as her crutches allowed before anyone could say anything.
By the time she noticed Blake walking up the path gesturing to Bluey, his hand on his son’s shoulder, the kettle had boiled for coffee and her stomach had settled down.
They filed in and hooked their hats on the back of the kitchen door. “Something smells good.” Bluey rubbed his hands together and peeked into the oven.
“You can grab them, if you like. I’ll make coffee then join you.”
“Looks like someone’s been experimenting today.” Blake stood behind Lilly’s chair and smoothed his hand down over her tousled hair as she climbed up to show him her creations.
“I never knew such a thing as no cooked play dough existed.” Del gave a small laugh and placed coffee mugs on the table. “Thank goodness for Google.”
“Well you might want to use it again.” Blake gave her a sheepish grin. “I forgot the other nanny had organized a morning tea tomorrow as a fundraiser for the Country Women’s Association. You need to bake all the usual morning tea stuff that women do for these things. Finger food, I think they call it. There will be about eighteen ladies descending on you tomorrow.”
A cold chill washed over Del, and she let her body slide into the nearest chair. “What…why would you do that to me? You know I can’t cook. Blake, for the love of everything I hold dear, please don’t do this to me.”
Chapter 9
Blake glanced between Del and Bluey. All the color had drained from her face and she had glassy look in her eyes. Her reaction seemed unwarranted, and for the life of him, he couldn’t believe anyone would be scared to have morning tea with a bunch of well-meaning country ladies who loved nothing more than a good yarn over a cup of tea.
Bluey cackled away as tears of laughter trickled down his cheeks. “Oh, if only you could see your face, girl.” He slapped his leg and laughed again, elbowing Blake in the ribs.
“I don’t believe you two, really I don’t. You know how my cooking ventures go. Cancel it!” Her disbelief turned to anger, and Blake took a step back as she shot a fiery glare his way.
“I can’t. It’s too late. Besides, it will look bad if you try to get out of it this late.”
“Does it look like I care?” Del stood and took a step toward him, her face dark with fury. Her mouth tightened and he took another hurried step backwards at the stormy glint in her eye.
“It’s just not possible. I’m sorry, Delilah. You have to understand how important this is to the community. This is an annual thing, and you have to book early to get a spot. All the farms around here take part.” He shrugged and grabbed his mug, holding it in front of his chest like a shield. “If it wasn’t for these ladies we would have been in so much strife when my wife
