Part 13 (1/2)

”No, no, not like that,” Esther muttered, grabbing the bottle and proceeding to fill it without a drop spilled.

Nora tucked her hands under her arms. So much for being world-cla.s.s.

”Here,” Esther said, shoving the bottle into her hands. ”Now go get a lamb.”

”How about that little one there?”

”One lamb's the same as the other.”

Nora's fingers tightened around the bottle. ”For the good of the farm,” she repeated to herself as she marched two paces behind Esther.

Esther led her to this morning's newest lamb. Nora cajoled him out of the pen and into her lap, then, bottle firmly in hand, she tried to insert it into the lamb's mouth. She tried every angle imaginable, but no matter, he resolutely clenched his jaws and refused the nipple.

”Oh, I'll do it,” Esther said, hopping the fence and drawing the lamb onto her lap.

Nora could hear Mike's ghost taunting her. ”Look at you. You can't have children. You've never nursed a child. You can't even bottle-feed a lamb. You're inadequate as a woman.” Her eyes stung and she turned away.

C.W. stood in the shadows of the barn's entrance watching the interaction between the two women. His brows furrowed and he shook his head slowly when he saw Nora's shoulders slump. Clearing his throat, he crossed the alley to her.

”Nora,” he called gently when he reached her side. She sighed heavily and raised her eyes. Pieces of hay clung to her hair and she would have looked lost were it not for the determined jut of her jaw. There, he thought, was a clue to the real Nora MacKenzie. ”The lesson didn't go well?”

Nora shook her head. ”Not very.”

”Let's give it another try. Give me your hand.”

Nora hesitated. He was smiling. She placed her small hand into his larger one. With one resolute yank, he had her on her feet again.

”Esther,” he called, ”Nora wants to try again.”

”I don't know if he'll take it from me.” Nora balked, stepping back into him.

He nudged her forward. ”Do you want to do this?”

She nodded.

”Then go get the lamb.”

She squared her shoulders and approached Esther, who relinquished the lamb with a raised chin. The lamb sensed Nora's nervousness and squirmed while she struggled to keep him from jumping out of her arms.

”Here, give him the bottle before he leaps away,” C.W. said, handing her the milk replacer.

Her heart began pounding. She didn't want to fail again, not in front of him or Esther, who was watching with a smug grin. I can do it, she told herself as she held the lamb's head tightly and pried his mouth open. Once again the newborn turned up his nose.

”It's no use,” she sighed as the lamb scrambled to his feet and bleated piteously.

”Did you try scratching his tail?” C.W. asked calmly.

Nora looked from his smile to Esther's blank expression, then back to C.W. ”Try what?”

He chuckled and bent to scratch the lamb's rump, right above the tail. To Nora's astonishment, the lamb began to simulate sucking.

”I don't believe it!” she cried.

”This little guy just doesn't know what to do.” He took Nora's hand and placed it upon the newborn's rump.

”Go ahead, he'll like it. Don't we all?”

Hesitant at first, Nora scratched gently upon the wiry hair, right above the tail. The lamb quieted. Nora scratched a little harder and the lamb began rooting for the nipple.

”You better give him his bottle before he finds something else to suck on,” C.W. said.

Nora chuckled as she hurried to grab the bottle, shooing away fat flies from the nipple. To her relief, the lamb accepted it eagerly and sucked away like a prize nurser. Nora's elation could not be measured by the amount of milk her lamb drank.

”Thank you, C.W.,” she said in a clear voice. ”I appreciate your calm manner and kindness.” She gave Esther a cold stare.

”I gotta go,” Esther snapped. She spun on her heel and marched out of the barn.

”I'll be right back,” C.W. called over his shoulder as he paced after her. Outside the barn, he ran to catch up with Esther and grabbed her arm.

”What was all that about?”

”What was all what about?”

”I saw enough to know that you have it out for Nora and I want to know why.”

Esther wriggled out of his grasp and stood before him with her back straight and her eyes looking off at the mountains.

”She's just having fun at our expense. It makes me mad to have to waste my time teaching her stuff she's never going to learn. Not really.”

”That's not true,” he replied.

”Sure it is. She's just another rich person from New York. I know her type. Flatlanders like her pour out of the city every summer. With their fancy clothes and hotshot hairdos. Snickering when they pa.s.s us like-like we're backward or something. Well, we have more than they'll ever have. And-and I hate them!” She swung her head around, hiding the flash of tears.

C.W. listened and understood the root of the problem. The animosity between Vermont locals and New York flatlanders was legendary, and someone as talented and bright as Esther would be particularly sensitive. He waited to let another moment pa.s.s, then took a deep breath as he formulated his answer.

”Esther, I know what you're talking about, but she doesn't fit that mold. She's not just here for a good time. I might have thought so a week ago, but since she's been here she's been consistent, eager to learn, and has done every job I've given her without complaint. And so far they've all been pretty dirty. Frankly, she's one h.e.l.l of a hard worker.”

”She doesn't belong. Just look at her. The color of her socks match her sweater, for Christ's sake. And her hair. Look at her,” she said, pointing to the barn, ”so neat and braided.” Her voice carried the singsong pitch of a teasing child.

C.W. glanced into the barn to where Nora sat, grinning with contentment while Willow took a turn in her lap. C.W.'s gaze traveled down to her socks; they were the same shade of green as her sweater.

C.W. shook his head. ”Esther, what's come over you? Frankly, it's not flattering. Just keep in mind that this place does matter to her-and she owns it. And,” he said, turning her gaze back to his with his hand, ”she's making every overture to be your friend. Regardless of the color of her socks, she deserves better than you've been dis.h.i.+ng out.”

Esther's face twisted in guilt. ”Oh, you don't know. She's had everything-money, the city, a man like MacKenzie. What does she know about squeezing every penny dry and looking around the corner for the next trouble.” She sc.r.a.ped the gravel with her boot. ”h.e.l.l, she can just jet out of here whenever she wants,” she muttered, mimicking his own words.

He grabbed her arm and his gaze bore down on her. ”Don't judge,” he warned. ”Take my word on this one.” He released his hold and patted her shoulder gently. ”Give Nora a chance. Give yourself a chance.”

She yanked away, then nodded curtly. ”I gotta go. I want to get some painting in today.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed down the road. He watched her march at a clipped pace until her bobbing head disappeared behind the colored foliage.