Page 31 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

‘Me too.’ Bree felt a nudge against her back and a tug at her sleeve as someone else vied for attention.

‘This is a Huacaya alpaca. Her name is Laka. See how her fleece is different?’

‘It all puffy and curly, like a teddy bear.’

‘That’s right. You can pat her as well.’

‘Hello, Laka.’ The second grand dame of Bree’s herd lowered her head to the little girl’s height and gently snuffled her hair. Vicki covered her mouth with her hands as she tried to stifle a giggle.

‘These two are really friendly,’ Bree said. ‘But the others are shy. The important thing to remember when we are out in the paddock with them is let them come to you. If you try to walk up to them, they might think you’re chasing them and run away.’

‘I understand.’

‘And you really shouldn’t try to pat them unless they are wearing a halter.’

‘I won’t.’ Vicki pointed to a dark brown face peering over the nearby fence. ‘Who’s that?’

‘That’s Digby. One of our boys.’

‘He’s pretty. Can I go and talk to him too?’

‘Yes, but your daddy and I have to come with you.’

‘Okay.’ Vicki was dancing on the spot with eagerness.

‘Don’t run. And stop before you get to the fence,’ cautioned Matt.

‘All right.’ Vicki skipped ahead of them.

‘Are they safe?’ Matt sounded worried.

‘Yes. As long as she stays this side of the fence. Alpaca males aren’t really aggressive like horses or bulls. She has so much confidence around them. It’s good to see.’

Matt nodded but didn’t speak. When he did, his voice was shaky.

‘For months after her mother died, she was afraid of everything. If I left the room, she’d come running after me, afraid that, like her mother, I would never come back.’

Bree’s heart cracked. ‘To lose her mother so very young must be hard on her. And you too … Losing your wife.’

She heard Matt take a deep breath. ‘Kim wasn’t my wife. Oh, we always intended to get married. But somehow, we never got around to it. Until it was too late.’

Bree didn’t know what to say. Matt’s grief flowed from him like a visible wave. Instinctively, she reached out to gently touch his arm in comfort. She didn’t know if he felt it through his thick jacket, but the gesture was a comfort for her as much as it was for him.

They stood in silence for a few moments, watching Vicki peering between the fence rails at the nearby animals. It should have been an awkward silence, but it wasn’t and Bree didn’t know why.

‘I don’t know why I told you that,’ Matt said at last. ‘But thank you for listening.’

Before Bree could respond, Vicki hurried towards them, holding out hands that were stained red—with blood.

‘Vicki!’ Matt dropped to his knees and held out his arms to grab her, but Vicki stopped out of reach.

‘Daddy, it’s the alpaca. He’s hurt.’

‘Your hands!’ The tension in Matt’s voice was gut wrenching.

‘There was blood on the grass. Under the fence.’ Vicki wiped her hands on the front of her shirt, leaving a stain, but showing the undamaged skin beneath. ‘You’ve got to help him.’

‘Which one is it?’ Bree asked, her thoughts turning to her animals now she was certain Vicki wasn’t hurt.

---