The Celtic Stone (The Stone Collection Book 5) by Nick Hawkes

Author:Nick Hawkes [Hawkes, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hawkesflight Media
Published: 2020-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Marry an island woman and you marry the island

(Celtic proverb)

The biting east wind rippled the shaggy coats of the highland cattle. Chris was amazed by their stolid indifference to the Hebridean weather. Three of the long-horned cattle were grazing fifty yards in front of him as he leaned on the stone wall that marked the end of his croft. Beyond him was the common grazing land. It rose up to the gorse and heather-covered hills.

Chris had walked to the end of his property early that morning to inspect the dry-stone walls and check their condition. To his delight, he discovered that they were not only sound but had been superbly made.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of loud banging. Hamish’s wife, Elspeth, was summoning her two house cows for milking by belting a saucepan with a wooden spoon. Chris wondered which cow had belonged to his grandfather. He limped back along the low stone wall until he was adjacent to Hamish’s byre. Chris climbed over the wall and walked over to the old stone building. By the time he got there, Elspeth had just finished milking the first cow. Its calf was tethered to the wall outside, cavorting in frustrated excitement at the prospect of drinking some of the milk from its mother. Elspeth came outside with a bucket, and the calf was soon sucking from it greedily.

She nodded to Chris before returning through the door to milk the second cow. Chris followed her inside. Steam rose from the flanks of the cow as it stood with its head pushed through the bars of the manger. Elspeth sat on her stool, pressed her forehead against the cow’s side and, with a skill honed by decades of practice, began milking. Thin, high-pressure squirts of milk dashed against the bottom of the metal pail. At the far end of the byre, Chris could see the somnolent form of Percival the pig, dozing in his pen. Elspeth gave no indication that she had noticed Chris’s arrival until she had finished milking. Without turning, she said, “So, it is yourself, Christopher. Now what would you be wanting?”

“G’day Elspeth. One of these days you’ll have to teach me to do that.”

“You can take this job from me any time you want.” She laughed as she turned to inspect Chris as he leaned on his new walking stick. “Will you not come in for a strupak? I asked Hamish to put on the kettle afore I did the milking.” She gave a tired smile. “He’s after hearing everything I say, but once he’s in his armchair, he pretends to be deaf. No doubt but I’ll have to do it meself. Come away in.”

Chris looked at the lowering clouds that were beginning to spit with rain, and accepted gratefully. Inside, they found Hamish snoring in the armchair in front of the hearth. Chris wondered what he might have been up to the previous night that had made him so tired in the morning.

Drops of water

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