AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Almost all of me was tuned to the big house as I passed it, looking for motion or a streak of red hair with a contrary tug-of-war in me. I wanted to see her. I didn’t want to see her at all. I was afraid of what I’d do if I did. Whether I kissed her or picked a fight, it’d be the wrong thing to do, and I couldn’t face the choice or its consequences. Not until I had some time and a full night’s sleep.
When I pulled open the barn door, Bowie shot in and ran straight for the goats to tease them as he did, the asshole. Alice’s stall was painfully empty, and it seemed like every furry face in the barn was pointed at it. But I made my way around the pens and horse stalls like Olivia and I usually did together, making sure everyone had feed and hay and salt licks. Saying hello and petting heads. Kit would bring pig slop and take the chickens’ eggs. Stalls would be mucked and horses groomed by one of the crew.
Bowie barked his little bark at Brenda the kid, who’d once nearly brained him with her thick skull. Sometimes I wondered if he remembered, as relentlessly as he pestered her, running into the pen to nip her haunches before hauling ass right back out before she could catch him. If Jolene were here, she’d just chase Bowie like a hype man, giving him the glory while she offered moral support.
Felt awfully familiar.
I passed the pigpen, checking the feed trough that supplemented the slop. But I stopped dead when I got close enough to get a good look at them. Because they weren’t pink—they were yellowing.
Jaundiced.
A bullet of thought fired through my brain. I moved back to the goats, climbing in to check one of the doe’s eyes, gums, between her legs. Yellowing, all. But the horses were fine. The other animals also showed signs, but the chickens were unaffected. Very few illnesses could jump animals. But these animals all had one thing in common with the sick herds.
Their water came from our old water mill. All but the chickens.
I turned on my heel and took off for my truck.
As Bowie and I rushed to Miguel, I was a rumble of thoughts. Worries. Accusations. Because while it was possible that particular water source had been naturally contaminated, it was highly unlikely. Two years ago, we’d replaced the underground equipment with state-of-the-art components, though we didn’t have the cash for another filtration system. Infiltration would have had to be manual.
I sped up.
When I reached the building, I skidded to a stop, flying out of the truck and into Miguel’s office.
“The water,” I started, my thoughts moving too fast for my mouth. “The animals in the red barn are sick, all but the chickens.”
His eyes widened. Once he parsed what I’d said, he sank into his chair and opened his laptop.
“The pigs are jaundiced, the goats too. Horses are all right, though.”
“But not the chickens. Because they get their water from the house,” he muttered as his fingers flew. “The water,” he breathed. “They’re all served from—”
“The water mill. I’m going to go out there now, but call who you need to call.”
“Copper,” he shouted, still staring at his screen as he shot out of his chair. It rolled back and hit a filing cabinet with a thump. “It was part of the most recent panel I sent in. I should have checked sooner—I just didn’t think it was possible, not with the equipment we have. But I didn’t consider what someone could have put in it.”
In a whirl, he moved to a cabinet behind him, digging through until he found what he was looking for in the back of one, banging his head when he discovered it. He exited and pressed a hand to his skull.
“Here. This is a copper test for the water, just a pH strip. Go test with it and come back. Because if this is what I think, there’s a chance we’ll be able to save some of the cattle.”
I nodded, glancing at the little plastic packet that might hold all the answers. “Give me ten.”
And I was off like a shot.
I’d left Bowie in the car, chewing on a bone, and when I slid in next to him, he raised his head with what might be an offended look on his face for the disruption. I fired the engine and took off for the pump with my stomach in my throat.
The water mill was the farm’s original source of water, the pump built in 1896 when the farm was established. The windmill pump had been updated over the years, but it was in the same spot, the same configuration it’d been in for over a hundred twenty years.
