Page 8 of Christmas Chaos
Rory stroked her long red curls from her eyes. They were wide and panicked, her breath hot and fast against his face.
‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘Listen to my voice. It’s okay.’
Zoe bellowed with pain, the sound nearly knocking him off his feet.
‘I’ve got a foot!’ called Alasdair. ‘Get the rope! Quick!’
Rory grabbed it and looped it around the protruding leg. It was wet and smeared with blood. Zoe cried out again and his heart lurched.
‘Now pull!’
Rory pulled and Alasdair’s gloved arm disappeared back into Zoe, emerging with another leg.
‘We’ve got him! Come on, Rory!’
They heaved and the baby slithered out onto the floor. It had curly red hair, just like its mother. Alasdair cleaned its face, and they rubbed the body until it took a few breaths. Rory felt like he’d been holding his for hours.
‘Well done,’ said Alasdair, patting him on the back. ‘I don’t think that would have ended well for either of them if you hadn’t been here.’
Zoe was now licking her baby, looking far less traumatised than Rory felt. He looked at his bloodied hands.
‘Alasdair,’ he began, his voice scratchy and low.
‘Yes, lad?’
‘Why did you have to call her Zoe?’
Alasdair’s brow furrowed as if Rory had just asked him to explain why the sun rose every morning.
‘Her hair, of course. Never seen a hairy coo with curlier. Do you want to name the calf? He’s going to be a strapping wee fella, I just know.’
Rory shook his head. He’d been in life-or-death situations more times than he could remember, but nothing ever quite like this. He heard a vehicle pulling up in the yard outside.
‘Finally!’ said Alasdair. ‘That should be the vet.’ He pushed to his feet. ‘Oh, I’ve got the perfect name – I bet he makes the cover ofThe Highland Times.’
Rory’s heart sank at Alasdair’s excited face.
‘I’m going to call him Brad!’
Driving backtowards Kinloch and a reliable phone connection, Rory’s phone buzzed repeatedly with notifications. Was something wrong? He glanced at the screen. Most of the messages were from Zoe, asking after her cow and wanting to know when Rory was coming back. He pulled into the back courtyard of the castle and cut the engine. This was the first birth he’d attended that had been touch and go. Was that what human birth was like? Was this what Zoe was going to have to experience if they ever got pregnant? He ran his hands into his hair, tugging at the roots. He wanted to talk it out but didn’t want to share these fears with Zoe and freak her out. Would his best mate, Charlie, understand?
A text came through.
TABI: Yo, Bigfoot. Something’s been plucking at Yia Yia’s third eye telling her I need to check in with you. You okay?
How had he ended up with a loud-mouthed American winemaker for a friend? And was he okay? He rubbed his face. Of course he was.
Inside, Zoe ended her call abruptly when he came in.
‘Roryyyyyyyy!’ She ran to his side and threw her arms around his neck. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU!’
He grinned, his heart lifting. They didn’t need a baby, they just needed each other.
‘I love you too. Always. Sorry I’m late. Zoe had her calf.’
‘Eek! Boy or girl?’
‘Boy.’
