too spooked to get down the fell today. I’ll have to wait until they’ve settled down again, and that’s at least a whole day wasted. Anyway...” She lifted her chin, pushing back the stray wisps of blond hair that had escaped from her braid to curl around her cheek. “What makes you think you have the right to look down on me when you are walking the fells dressed like that?”
“But I don’t look down on you...” Will objected. “At least—”
“Oh, yes, you do,” she cut in. “I can see it in your face. You think I’m just a simple country bumpkin. Well, let me tell you now, Mr. Whoever-you-are—you may be some kind of hotshot in the city but it counts for nothing here.”
Will glanced at his ruined leather shoes and torn, mud-splattered trousers, feeling suddenly ridiculous. “I...I was in a rush,” he muttered, still hanging on to Max’s collar. “And it’s Mr. Devlin, by the way. Will. Of course I’ll pay for any problems I’ve caused. I do have the right to walk these fells, though, whatever I’m wearing. You can’t stop me.”
“What rights?” snorted the shepherdess. “Being a tourist doesn’t give you the right to ruin my day and injure my sheep.”
Determined to stand his ground, Will tried his well-practiced courtroom stare again. She just stared back, flicking her heavy braid back over her shoulder.
“I have grazing rights,” he said.
“Grazing rights don’t come with holiday cottages, you know,” she retorted, turning away with her dogs at her heels. “Anyway, I have enough to do without standing around talking to you. You’d better just hope that the sheep are all okay and go buy yourself a lead for that crazy dog. My name is Chrissie Marsh and I live at High Bracken, just down the fell from here. In case you end up owing me for lost sheep.”
He watched her walk over to the ledge where the ewe had disappeared. She was tall and almost stately, walking the hills with proud strides and her crook in her hand. Her dogs followed, totally obedient, while Max strained and pulled at him, eager to run off. For the first time in his adult life, Will Devlin felt out of his depth.
In another way, though, he felt somehow free, as if all the layers of artificiality that had been such a big part of his life for so long had been torn away. Another urge to laugh hit him as he took in his situation: his totally unsuitable clothes and his silly dog. A hotshot from the city, she’d called him, and she hadn’t been too far off with that. Well, he was certainly no hotshot now. Out here in the wilds of the Lake District a silver tongue and a steely gaze counted for nothing.
* * *
AWARE THAT WILL DEVLIN was watching her as she headed toward the place where the ewe had disappeared, Chrissie held her head high, determined not to let him sense her discomfort. There was no way she was letting him see that he’d bugged her. She wasn’t used to folks like him; he didn’t belong up here, with his posh voice and fancy clothes. This was her place, her land and her way of life.
Resisting the impulse to look back and see if he was still there, she peered over the ledge. To her dismay, the little ewe was on her back, trapped in a crevice upside down with her black legs in the air. Panic hit like a sledgehammer; there was no way Chrissie could get it out unaided.
She didn’t want to ask the man to help, but there was no other way. In desperation, she turned to see him heading off down the hillside, hobbling slightly and still hanging grimly to the dog’s collar.
“Excuse me,” she called. “Please...I need help here.”
* * *
WILL STOPPED WHEN he heard the woman’s cry. She was standing in the spot where the sheep had disappeared over the ledge. He gritted his teeth; he could really do without this. Her braid had come loose, and her long fair hair was streaming around her shoulders. She caught it up impatiently.
“Please,” she repeated, her desperate voice carrying across the distance. “It’s the least you can do.”
With a heavy sigh he retraced his steps. His knee smarted and throbbed, and his calf muscles ached relentlessly. Max pulled at him and he gave his collar a yank. “And what am I supposed to do with the dog while I help you with whatever it is you want?”
In response, Chrissie pulled a long piece of orange baler twine from her pocket. “First lesson,” she said. “Always carry some of this with you—you never know when it might come in handy. My sheep is stuck down here and I need you to help me get it out.”
Shaking his head, Will tied the twine to Max’s collar and fastened the end around a stubby, windblown bush before peering over the drop. She was right; he was duty bound to help her, even though the thought of wrangling a sheep was definitely not at the top of his to-do list.
Chrissie climbed down next to the sheep and began hauling at it.
“We need to call for help,” he suggested.
“You are the help,” she snapped. “What I need is for you to get down here and undo some of the damage you and your stupid dog have caused.”
Reluctantly, Will did as he was told, scrambling awkwardly down the rocky outcrop to grab hold of the oily wool on the ewe’s back. It was thicker than he expected, and kind of sticky.
“Just pull,” she said.
They tugged with all their strength, shoulder to shoulder, and suddenly the ewe came free. She leaped up, knocking them both over before heading off across the fell to find her companions. Will lay winded for a second with Chrissie sprawled over him. She wriggled to free herself, pushing against his chest, her face a fiery red.
“Well, at least the sheep seems okay,” he remarked, lips twitching.
“She’ll probably lose her lambs, though,” she remarked coldly, sitting up and struggling onto her feet. He stayed on the ground, contemplating.
“You are very pessimistic,” he said. “It’s not a good trait, you know. Positive thinking can move mountains.”
Chrissie brushed herself down. “You need more than positive thinking to survive up here. I’m telling you the ewe will probably lamb too soon—and you’ll have to pay for it. Plus probably others that I haven’t even found yet.”
Will sat up. “Ah, but how are you going to catch all these ailing and injured sheep that you haven’t even found yet? And if you can’t find them, how will you prove their problems were mine and Max’s doing?”
“Well I can’t, can I? Not right now, at least. But I’ll be keeping a closer eye on the ones that got loose because of you. Tomorrow I have to do the gather all over again, and they will come in with the rest of the flock...as long as there isn’t a tourist with a crazy dog around.”
Clambering to his feet, Will gave a short, sharp salute. “Well, you don’t need to worry on that score...ma’am. Max will definitely be locked away tomorrow, and as I’m not a tourist, there will probably be none of those around to bother you, either.”
Chrissie bristled, obviously displeased with his mocking tone. Without another word, she whistled for her collies and the dogs leaped up at once, happy to be doing something. Max yipped after them as they moved off down the steep slope.
Now Will was the one to bristle. He did have rights to this land. He didn’t have
