Another woman joined in, quickly apprizing the danger. “If he goes in, he might just be strong enough tae make it through tae the far side. But the cows and their little ones will be swept away.”
They waved to the men whose backs were turned to this new danger as they struggled to lead the cattle to safety. Kenneth was knee deep, carrying a large sheep across to the higher ground. As Selene watched, she saw him deposit the animal on the grassy slope where it scampered up the hill to join the rest of its flock.
But the men couldn’t hear their calling and none looked up to see the women’s frantic waving and signaling.
There was nothing for it. Selene set her jaw with grim determination as she shucked off her precious boots and hiked up her skirt to fasten it in her belt. She tossed aside her hat and turned to the others.
“Follow me.” Then she set off down the hill, running as fast as she could with the other women hot on her heels.
They splashed their way across to what there was of the field that was still remaining above water, passing the startled men who were too busy to do anything other than raise a brow or let a jaw hang agape.
By the time Selene reached the old bull he had ventured his front legs into the raging torrent. Perhaps he was gauging the depth and strength of the flow. But whatever it was that made him hesitate, it gave Selene time to wade into the water beside him.
In an effort to turn him, she grasped one of his horns.
“Come on Fergus,” she whispered. “That’s not a safe place to go.”
To her amazement he turned his head and took a step back. She tugged at his shaggy hair and continued whispering in his ear.
“Ye’ll need tae talk wi’ Fergus in the Gaelic,” called one of the women.
“I’ve only English. Fergus will have tae learn it, fast,” Selene responded, her voice almost lost in the sound of the rushing water and the rain.
The other women joined her, standing knee deep in the rising water flapping their hands and shouting to turn the cows away from the dangerous rushing water.
Despite the language barrier, it seemed that Fergus must have detected something of her urgency, for with only a little more urging and tugs on his rough coat, he stepped back.
Still holding his long, sharp horn, Selene quietly coaxed him to join the others.
Even though he rolled his eyes and tossed his head, he went with her and rejoined his herd. The two cows and their little ones followed obediently behind them.
Meanwhile the other women had joined hands to create a barrier to prevent any other cattle from attempting to enter the raging waters.
In only a short space of time, the men had walked all the cattle and sheep, including the errant Fergus, across the fast-disappearing little land bridge and safely up the hill out of danger.
By now, thoroughly wet and mud-splattered, Selene stayed with the women while the men secured the last of the animals behind a makeshift enclosure.
“Ye did well, lass.” One of the older women ventured. The others nodded shyly. “Nae like an English lass at all.”
Selene laughed at the unaccustomed compliment.
Kenneth walked up shaking his head. Rain dripped from his hair; his face was smudged with mud.
“Ye’re a marvel, Lady Selene.” He grasped her hand while the others looked on with interest. “I dae believe we owe it tae ye fer saving half the herd. If they’d followed Fergus, we’d likely have lost them in the torrent.”
She felt her cheeks flush hot. Finding herself the center of attention did not sit well with her.
“I… only did what was needed,” she mumbled.
His eyes lingered, looking her up and down.
“Ye’re looking good fer it all,” he said, his voice low.
She blinked. “Good?”
“Aye. Covered in filth.” He shrugged, as if this was a perfectly normal compliment. “It sits well on ye. Ye look almost like… like a Highland lass. As if ye belong here.”
She tossed her head giving a short laugh, suddenly aware of her sodden hair plastered to her head.
