Page 80 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘But Tom—’

‘I mean it.’ He suddenly sounded stern. ‘Look, Petie needs your help. He might not make it, otherwise. Go! I’ll just be ten minutes here sorting out some feed for the sheep. I’ve a bale on the tractor spike, and then I’ll give it another half hour or so back at my farm. I just want to recheck that field where we were before, okay?’

‘Let me help you.’ Rachel felt so torn.

‘Go – please.’ His look was intent.

‘Well, ring me …’ She began to cave as she looked down at Petie, battling for survival in her arms, the gorgeously naughty lamb they’d all grown to love. ‘Let me know how you’re getting on. And come back to ours as soon as you’re done out here. Mum’s making soup.’

‘Okay, that sounds good. I’ll see you soon.’

‘Shall I leave Moss with you to help out?’

The loyal farm dog had been so good, tracking the scents of the buried sheep.

‘No, it’s okay, and I’ve a feeling he’ll want to follow you home. He could get lost in the snows himself.’

‘Yes, I suppose.’ Snowflakes were sticking to her eyelashes as she spoke and the wind was weaving wildly around them.

‘Honestly, I’m fine. I’ve done this before, in other winters. Get going.’

‘All right. Take care.’ She left reluctantly, carrying Petie, looking over her shoulder at the last, to see Tom nod purposefully at her.

Moss followed Rachel back to the Land Rover and jumped into the passenger footwell. She laid Petie on the seat, covering the lamb with an old rug that she always kept in the back. She set off hesitantly, giving Tom a wave, whilst sending out a silent prayer to keep him safe in this wild weather. She hated leaving him out here on his own. She drove away slowly until the swirling snow and the white track ahead was all that filled her vision. But – despite the complications and arguments of late – it was Tom that filled her heart.

38

Parking at the farmhouse, Rachel realised there were no lights on, just the glow of a candle from the kitchen window. Dammit, the electric must be out, the lines down in the blizzard winds. At the door, she shouted out to Jill for help while she carried the poor bedraggled mite that was Petie in, ready to warm him by the Aga, followed closely by faithful Moss who was at her snow-filled, wellington-booted heels.

‘Oh, thank goodness you’re back, Rachel!’ Jill looked relieved, then took in the bundle in her daughter’s arms with a frown, just as Maisy came running across in the half-light.

‘Mummy, what is it? Who’s poorly?’

‘It’s Petie, pet.’ She felt a catch in her throat. ‘It’s okay, I think we can get him better. He needs warming up and a nice quiet, gentle time just now. So, sshh. No shouting.’

‘Okay, but can I see?’

Rachel knelt down by the Aga – even with the electric off, that was still warm and toasty being oil-fired, thank heavens. She began to loosen the rug around the small lamb so his little face showed, all damp curly wool and half-closed eyes. He looked so weak, bless him.

‘Oh, my Petie!’ Tears started streaming down Maisy’s rounded cheeks. ‘He won’t die, will he, Mummy?’

‘Not if I can help it.’ Rachel tried to smile soothingly, but felt the weight of the harsh winter elements in her bones and on her shoulders, and all she could think about just then was Tom.

Back to the crisis they faced here and now; the sheep feed and Lamlac was over in the shed, a battle of a walk away, so Rachel remembered an old tip of her grandad’s and asked her mother to warm up some evaporated milk for Petie – normal cow’s milk wasn’t suitable for sheep.

‘And what about you, Rachel, you must be freezing cold too?’ Jill’s tone was anxious.

Rachel hadn’t realised it, but she was shivering, with the snow now melting down into her socks in her boots, around her cuffs and down her coat collar. She was rubbing Petie with the blanket gently, soothingly, trying to get his circulation going.

‘Let’s get some of that soup I made down you,’ Jill said. ‘I’ve kept it warming on the stove here for you.’ She suddenly stopped, registering. ‘What about Tom? Where is he? Did he go back home?’

Rachel shook her head. ‘He made me leave him, Mum. I didn’t want to. He helped with all our flock, then said he needed to get back to his. There were still several missing in the drifts.’ She didn’t want to say more, for fear of alarming Maisy.

‘Oh, good Lord.’

‘I’ve made him promise to ring us and to come straight here afterwards.’ But thinking about it, the mobile signals would be crap; they were dreadful at the best of times, let alone with a snowstorm going on.

‘Okay …’ Jill tried to contain her fears.