Page 35 of Forever Ink

Chapter 15

SIMON

I pulled my heavy jacket on as I stepped outside. Mouse and Callum followed behind me, arguing about something as we made it across the yard to the machine shed. Our bikes were always stored in the back of the shed and Dad kept them pristine for us, never knowing when we might want to ride.

The bikes were where I thought they would be—two KTM 500s. One belonged to Dad, though he didn’t ride as much these days. Mouse’s bike sat off to one side, a KTM 350 built for Enduro contests. Mouse had been county champion for several years, but he’d never bothered trying to take it further. My brother could do things on a bike that shouldn’t be possible.

“Christ, I’ve not ridden off road in years,” Callum grouched walking over to where the bikes sat. He dropped his helmet onto a hay bale and checked over Dad’s bike.

“I warned you Dad would have us out on the bikes. At least you remembered to bring your helmet.” Mouse took off his sneakers and pulled on a pair of heavy motocross boots.

“Come on, slowpokes, I want to catch up to the mutton chops before they make a break for the border,” Mouse said, standing up and pushing his bike off its stand.

“I swear t’God Mouse, I end up in a ditch covered in mud I’m going to blame you,” Callum muttered, following Mouse out through the shed door.

I pulled my helmet on, thankful it covered the goofy–ass grin I was wearing. I should be grumbling going out in the cold to find a herd of ill-behaved sheep, but right now I was crazy happy. I had a man I loved to death, and my family around me. For all the bitching and fighting Callum and Mouse did, I was starting to see what Rhys was getting at. Not that I was stupid enough to ever say anything to either of them. The two dumbarses could work it out for themselves.

I grabbed a walkie off the charger. Dad would have his sitting on the charger inside, so I could at least radio down if I found the damn ram. Phones would be no use once we got up past the ridge, it was a mobile dead spot.

Pushing my bike through the doors I heard the crunch of gravel, a dark green land rover pulling in. Joe had made it earlier than expected. He must have set off before the sun was even up. I kicked the stand down and waved to Mouse to wait. “Half a tick, going to speak to Joe.”

Joe got out of the car and waved as I walked across the courtyard shoving my helmet up so it sat resting on the top of my head. Even at this distance you could see the resemblance between him and Rhys. Both had the same shock of curls, though Joe’s were silvery grey now. Joe was only an inch or two taller than Rhys, but something about his presence made him seem bigger than life. Like my dad, he’d spent his life working the farm, although my dad had also spent years working rigs out in the North Sea to make extra for the family. They were both men who’d worked hard all their life, but it had not embittered them—quite the opposite.

“Joe, you made it in good time.” As I walked up I extended my hand, but I should have expected it to be pushed aside in favour of a hug. The very first time I’d met Joe he’d hugged me and thanked me for loving Rhys.

“T’was a close thing. The weather yesterday was nothing compared to what we’ve got forecast to come in tonight.” Joe looked at me. “You look about ready to head out.”

“Dad’s ram got out again and took a few ewes with him. The fucker is more trouble than he’s worth I swear, but Dad’s got a soft spot for him.”

Joe gave a deep chuckle at my answer.

“Had an old billy goat like that. Bub would eat the washing off the line and would terrify Rhys’s gran. Had her stuck outside in the old privy once. The damn animal was a menace, but I loved him.”

I followed Joe to the back of his four-wheel drive. “Do you need a hand with your bags?’

“All’s good, Simon. I’ve got my bag here, and the rest is the Christmas gifts, but I’ll bring them in later today. Otherwise Rhys will be shaking every one of them to see what’s inside.”

A loud laugh erupted from me as I pictured it and honestly, I could see Rhys doing just that. This was only our first Christmas together, but I could already tell he was going to be a wonderful, rambunctious mess on Christmas day, let alone tonight when all the tempting gifts were under the tree.

My boy was finally getting the Christmas he dreamed of and he wasn’t holding back. I couldn’t wait to see him unwrapping all his gifts. I’d made sure to get him some he could open with everyone, and a couple to open up in our room that were especially for his little side.

Joe gave me a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll head in and see Rhys and your dad. You men best be off and find those sheep.”

“Yeah, at least I think I know where Rag’s taken them. The woolly dipshit seems to like to graze close to the waterfall. Can you let Dad know to turn his walkie on inside? I’ve taken one from the workshop and I’ll radio if I find him.”

“Will do.” He said before I pulled my helmet back down. Joe turned and headed into the farmhouse while I walked over to my bike.

It only took me a couple of goes to get my bike started, the engine burbling to life. Dad must have kicked the bikes’ motors over regularly, because all three started like a charm. Mouse was out the gate first, riding like a bat out of hell up the dirt trail to the right of the farm gate. Callum and I followed at a more sedate pace, neither of us wanting to spend Christmas in A&E with a broken leg.

The eastern paddock was a bust.

The only thing moving up there was Dad’s Highland bull Charlie and he’d given us a loud bellowing moo then made his way slowly back towards the farm. He was a sensible big bugger, unlike the sheep. I always had more time for the cattle. Dad’s farm was these days more a hobby. Gone were the days of running sheep and cattle for profit. He’d been crafty with investments. Who would have figured the old man had a shrewd eye for what was up–and–coming in the tech world? He was no millionaire, but he made enough that he could keep the farm going without the stress a lot of farmers were facing.

“Sy!” I pulled my bike up at the sound of Mouse yelling over the engine noise, seeing him point towards the hilltops just west of us. There I could see the arse end of several sheep before they disappeared over the ridgeline.

“Bastards,” I grumbled, watching them.

“You were right, they’re heading for the creek. Do we follow them?” Mouse had tugged his helmet up so it sat half off his head. He looked over the side of the hill we were on, as if judging if he could make the descent down the steep trail on his bike. There was no way I could do it, and I was pretty sure Callum would be feeling the same.