She was the daughter of the previous owner, then. I’m suddenly incredibly curious as to why this was the very first time I’d ever seen her in all these years.
“We were acquainted,” I reply. “We live – lived – across the road from one another. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Right.” She doesn’t seem cut up about the death, though something dark flits across her face for a moment before disappearing. “Anyway, can I help you?”
“I thought I’d just come and say hello,” I say, taken aback by her coldness; her manner could give Dane’s frostiness a run for its money. “And to see if you need any help.”
She blinks, looking surprised at the offer. I look a little closer. Beyond her beautiful looks, there was something very sad about her. Her shoulders were tense and slightly hunched, and I get the impression that she’s carrying some sort of huge burden.
And there’s something odd about her, something that draws me to her. I’m fascinated, by her appearance, about the reason she’s here, and by whatever secrets she seems to be hiding from the rest of the world. I want to know more.
She bites her lip for a moment, thinking.
“Do you know how to milk a cow?” she finally asks reluctantly. “I’ve never done it.”
Somehow, that wasn’t what I was expecting. I blink twice before grinning at her. I’m not surprised when she doesn’t smile back.
“I can show you,” I agree readily. Dane is going to absolutely kill me. “I’m Warwick, by the way.”
“I’m Luciana,” the woman says. “Let me grab my coat and we can go out.”
She slips back inside and slams the door. I fight the urge to look back toward my own house; I’ve no doubt that Dane is currently standing at the window, waiting for me to return and wondering what the hell I’m doing.
Before I can reconsider my offer, the door opens again and Luciana is standing there, now in boots, tugging her jacket over her shoulders.
“This way,” she says. “All the animals are around the back.”
“I know,” I say, hurrying to catch up to her as she starts walking. “Old Man Marty used to get me and my brother around to help him, sometimes, especially in his last months, so I’ve met them all. Do you like animals?”
“Never owned one,” she says shortly with a shrug.
I stare at her.
“Then why are you here?” I ask, confused.
She scowls at me.
“Not that it’s your business, but I inherited the property,” she says. “I came here to look at it and found the animals since dear dad couldn’t be bothered to tell me he had a damn menagerie out here, himself.”
There was a lot of bitterness in her voice. But she shakes her head and doubles her pace, forcing me to keep up with her lest I fall behind.
As we cross the fields, I can see the animals roaming around. I’ve helped care for every single one of them. Maybe I should offer to help Luciana for a little while, since I likely know these animals far better than she does.
A voice in the back of my mind that sounds very like Dane reminds me that this is an incredibly bad idea. Luciana is human and I am not. Having a connection with the old man was different, especially since he almost seemed half way to senile. But Luciana was young and strong and, to be honest, I didn’t know if she was really telling the truth about the inheritance. For all I know, she could absolutely be faking it, getting ready to stab Dane and I in our beds in the middle of the night…
“Watch out!”
I blink and return to the present world just in time to run straight into the closed barn door.
“Fuck!” I yelp, leaping backwards and covering my nose immediately.
There’s a snort of humour and I glance over to see Luciana starting to smile. I glare at her through clumsy eyes. That hurt.
“Pay more attention next time,” she says. “Do you want me to help?”
I keep my hand firmly clamped over my nose, hiding it from view.
“No, it’s just sore,” I lie.
My nose is most definitely broken, I hit the door that hard. But there’s no way I can remove my hand and risk Luciana seeing the small flames that are currently playing out across the injured area. By the time I remove my hand, there will be just a bruise.
“Good,” Lucia says, and her smile drops, which is a shame because she looked so much prettier with it. “Be more careful.”
She opens the barn door. Instantly, I’m assaulted with the unique animal smell that our own barn has. This one is slightly different; after all, Dane and I don’t keep cows or sheep, yet there are plenty here, despite the fact that the side door is open so that they can mill around.
“So?” Luciana asks, glancing at me.
“Which cows are ready to be milked?” I ask.
She stares at me blankly.
“What the hell did your dad teach you?” I ask, stunned; how the hell could the man leave all these animals to a daughter who doesn’t have the first clue on how to care for them all?
“He didn’t teach me anything,” she snaps back with a fierce glare
I stare into her emerald eyes, drawn once more to their glitter, before I shake myself.
“Sorry,” I say. “Show me the cows and I’ll teach you.”
Appeased, Lucia takes me over to a large section of the barn where four cows are milling around. Three of them are completely normal. The fourth, however, was a Peryton.
I stop and gape.
“Where did your father find a Peryton?” I breathe, awed.
“Something his journal will hopefully answer one of these days,” Luciana sighs. “She’s calm, so you can approach the cows.”
The Peryton didn’t even look up as we neared, her wings rustling along the ground as she inspects the wall. The cows look up at us and then away, similarly disinterested.
These animals are all perfectly acclimatised to humans. Even if we weren’t people that they recognised, they still had it in their heads that we were not a threat at all. Even the Peryton, a usually skittish creature, was perfectly calm at our arrival.
“So, what do we do here?” Luciana asks, drawing my attention to the cows.
“Have any of these cows had a baby?” I ask.
“Yes, two of them,” Luciana says with a frown. “Why?”
“Cows can’t actually produce milk without giving birth first,” I explain.
“Seriously?” Luciana asks, looking utterly shocked.
“She produces milk to feed her young, mainly,” I say. “Have you been allowing that?”
“Of course,” Luciana says instantly, sounding offended. “I’m not a monster.”
I laugh.
“A lot of people take the babies from the mother so that they can get the milk,” I explain. “Come on, I’ll show you how to actually do this. Grab that bucket and stool.”
We get a length of rope and secure the cow to the stall so she wouldn’t wander off. By how intently she’s eating, however, I doubt we’ll have any problem with that at all. I look underneath, at the udder.
“We need to be gentle and slow,” I tell Luciana, lowering my voice to a quiet, soothing tone. “The last thing we want is for her to kick us.”