“You know what I’m thinking. I’m thinking this is not a good idea, but you’re going to do it anyway.”
Eamonn might’ve been his Jiminy Cricket, but that didn’t mean Nathan had to listen to his advice.
Chapter 4
Liam
On his brother’s advice, and only on his brother’s advice, Liam put up help wanted signs in town. After a week, there hadn’t been any bites. He gave Mark a few copies to put up at his office to spread the word.
Liam worked on a freelance graphic design project for a new restaurant opening up that winter night, which was unusually warm for June. Because he was at his computer, he had no choice but to hop over to bloody Facebook for a quick check on Kelly and Craig. They seemed to be enjoying a quick holiday in Sydney. Great. Wonderful. Liam had once wanted to whisk Kelly off to Sydney for a weekend trip to see Neil Finn play at the opera house. She said she was busy with work, but urged him to go with one of his brothers. Who knew what she and Craig were getting up to that weekend?
Liam wiped sweat off his brow. He couldn’t feel the window air conditioning unit in his bedroom, and the ceiling fan barely helped. He missed the cool confines of Mark’s house, when he wore a light sweater to dinner. He now sat in front of the computer in his boxers with a small fan blowing in the corner, Facebook stalking his ex when he should have been working on a graphic design project for one of his clients. What killed Liam was that he didn’t know. He had been completely blindsided when Kelly dumped him and admitted to sleeping with Craig. He had no suspicions. He was too trusting, stupidly trusting. Only little kids trusted people that much.
Baaaaa. His sheep called out from the window.
“Aye, knock it off!” he yelled. “Go to sleep!”
The sheep continued making louder noises. He heard them shifting around in the field when they should be at rest.
“What are they doing out there?” he asked himself. He’d heard of sheep robbers sneaking onto farms and stealing the livestock. With larger, commercial operations around him, Liam’s farm was the little guy, and he had to protect himself. Liam grabbed his shotgun, loaded it, and tiptoed outside. He was only in his pair of boxers, but he didn’t care so long as his sheep were all right.
He followed the growing chorus of bleats. He stopped at the hoof house and hid against the wall.
Crunch. Crunch.
Those were footsteps. He definitely heard footsteps. Some asshole was on his property. Liam stilled himself and listened to their movement. Wheels squeaked as they moved on the grass. What were they wheeling? A wagon to cart them away?
Liam kept his gun flush against his chest. His dad had taught him and his brothers how to shoot, but all he’d shot were empty bottles and cans, not people.
I’m not going to shoot them. I’ll just point my gun and that should be enough.
Liam exhaled a breath and counted to three.
1
2
3
He jumped out from behind the hoof house and pointed his gun at the sheep robber. “Aye!” His yell echoed across the field.
The man in front of him screamed five times as loudly. It was louder than his gunshot would’ve been, and it sent the sheep fleeing in all directions.
“Shit! Fuck! Bugger!” The man yelled at the sheep who brushed past him in a panic. His posh clothes and styled hair made him a dead-ringer for a city guy. He must’ve made a really wrong turn.
“Get the fuck away from me!” The man tried shooing them away, but the sheep all went in their own directions, zig-zagging and criss-crossing amongst each other, with the posh guy in the center. He dragged his suitcase through the soft grass, leaving two tracks in his wake.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Liam yelled.
“What the hell are they doing?” The man pointed at the flock with his cigarette. “Shit!”
He slipped and fell onto the grass. Well, what Liam hoped was just grass. Sheep were not potty trained, after all. The man, whose rusty head of hair reminded Liam of his niece and nephew, rolled around trying to get up. He pushed his hand into the ground for leverage, but it kept sinking into the wet grass, slick from a recent rainfall.
“A little bloody help here!” The man yelled. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his cigarette lit and in his free hand this whole time. Liam hated smokers, but he couldn’t deny how impressive that was.
He gave the man a hand up, since he obviously could not be a sheep robber, yet scowled at him the whole time. Grass stains covered his clothes.
“As I asked before, what the hell are you doing?” Liam asked. “You scared the sheep.”
