Mouse dropped down beside me and ran a gloved hand through Ragnar’s coat. “You gone and fucked yourself up, old fella.”
Ragnar bleated in response, his velvety muzzle nuzzling Mouse’s hand. “I’ll hold him while you cut the wire off. Where did he get himself caught up? I thought Dad had cleared most of the old blown–down fences?”
I shrugged. He had a couple of lads come in to help when he needed a hand, but I was starting to worry it wasn’t enough.
“Dad needs more help.” I grunted out as I started to cut the fencing wire from around Ragnar’s leg. I had to cut some of the wool off as well. He was going to end up with the worlds weirdest sheep cut by the time I got the fencing wire off him.
“What can we do though?” Mouse moved his hand so it was gripping one of Rag’s horns, stopping him from moving around too much.
“We’ll work something out. I could probably start coming up here on the weekends.” I slid the snips under a piece of fencing wire that was starting to cut into Ragnar’s skin.
Mouse scratched his nose with his free hand, brow wrinkled in thought. “We could do alternate weekends maybe, do some of the jobs that are getting harder for Dad.”
“Your dad’s going to be here soon. Said give him twenty minutes, he’ll have to come up the other trail.” Callum dropped down to help me unwrap the wire from Rag’s leg. He shot a look at Mouse and I. “What’s got you both frowning?”
“Dad. I think the farm is getting too much for him,” Mouse said, hunching forward and tightening his grip on the horns when Ragnar started to wiggle around.
“You thinking of trading off weekends to help him?”
I nodded as I cut more of the wire away. “We’ll work something out. I need to speak to Rhys first and I’ve got to talk to Dad, and he’s as stubborn as this damn ram. I’m not sure how he will react.”
“Stubbornness seems like a Johannsen family trait,” Callum mumbled. I ignored him in favour of cutting the last coils of wire from Ragnar’s legs.
Throwing the wire into a pile, I sat back on my haunches. Ragnar was making some noises that boded ill to any person standing too close when he got his legs back under him.
“We got anything to tether him with? Last thing we need is him taking off again.” I sighed, looking around.
“I’ll go have a look,” Mouse said, standing and brushing himself off. “Cal, take his horns and hold on tight, he’s strong.”
I barked out a laugh at the look of trepidation that passed over Cal’s face. I’d seen him make men turn and run with a single cocked eyebrow, but this ram had him as nervous as a masochist at his first whipping.
“Grip his horns closer to the skull, that way you’ll have a better hold of him.” Cal followed my instructions, still side-eyeing Rag as he did so.
Mouse wasn’t gone long before he came back, shrugging. “Couldn’t find anything, but I did see the ewes. Looked like they were making their way back to the farm.”
I blew out a loud breath, trying to push the strands of my hair out of my eyes. I’d lost my hair tie somewhere. “We’ll just have to hold him till Dad gets here. Surely he’ll have some rope.”
We didn’t need to wait long before we heard the familiar sound of Dad’s UTV. What shocked me was who was driving. Rhys clutched the wheel, letting out a whoop I could hear from where we were sitting, Dad alongside grinning like a twelve-year-old.
“I didn’t know Rhys knew how to drive?” Cal said, smiling.
“He doesn’t. Hope to fuck he knows where the brakes are.” I watched with horrified fascination as he came barrelling towards us.
Please God, let him stop.
The UTV slid to a stop and Rhys beamed proudly. Dad was cackling and slapping Rhys’s shoulder. “Told you it was easy, lad; you’re a natural.”
Rhys looked over at me, giving me a sweet smile as he got out of the vehicle.
“Oh, you poor thing.” Rhys was down on his knees stroking Ragnar’s wool. The damn sheep bleated almost sweetly at Rhys, moving his muzzle towards Rhys’s hand. “He’s so sweet,” Rhys said softly, petting Rag’s nose. The ram seemed to be loving it.
I caught Ragnar’s eye, and I swore the bastard was gloating. It was irrational to think I was competing against a sheep for my boy’s affections, but I suddenly felt like I was.
With the group of us, it didn’t take much to get Ragnar into the back of the UTV. Dad had a show halter around Ragnar to stop him bolting. The cuts on his legs seemed superficial enough that Dad was sure that with a rest in the barn and some betadine and he would be right as rain and back to ruling over his ewes like the Lothario he was.
Ragnar, for his part, just lay down quietly in the back of the UTV, nuzzling Rhys’s palm.
“So why did Rhys get to drive? I thought you said you hated anybody but you driving it?”