Not waiting for me to reply, he hurries around to get the door for me, offering me his arm before we take off into a cluster of trees.
Hale’s parents’ farm is magical. Although peak harvest time has passed, there are still a few rogue apples dangling from branches. Hale explains how his parents hire local teenagers to pick them and have a few farm hands year-round.
“Mom makes an amazing apple pie.” Hale licks his lips. “We used to grow some pumpkins down there for Halloween. It used to be a lot of fun.” A wistful expression, tinged with sadness crosses his face. “Although we haven’t done that for a few years.”
“I’ve never been to a pumpkin patch. Or been on a hayride.”
Hale gasps in shock. “You’ll have to come to Rose Harbor for next Halloween, then.”
I smile politely, not saying anything more. Next year is too far away to be making plans.
I frown as a strange, high-pitched bleating noise comes from the next field. “What is that?”
“Not again.” Hale takes my hand and pulls me along with him. “Let’s go.”
We break into a light jog before he can provide any more explanation, heading toward the noise, mud squelching underfoot and spraying up the sides of my boots with each stride. When we reached the top of a small hill, we see the source. A poor sheep has managed to get its head stuck in between a wire fence. Its wool is all tangled as it struggles, trying to free itself. The more it moves, the more entangled it becomes.
Hale rushes over and kneels down in front of it, obviously not caring about getting his knees all dirty.
“It’s okay, little one.” Hale gets down to the sheep’s level and pats its head. “We’ll get you out in no time. What have I told you about exploring away from the flock?”
The sheep looks into Hale’s eyes and releases a baa. Its tone sounds almost sassy in intonation, as if it’s saying, “Yeah, I realize it was a bad idea, but now what?”
I peer over his shoulder. “Is she okay?”
“She will be.” Hale works to maneuver the wire. “I recognize little Flossie here from the half-moon-shaped blob in between her eyes. She has a habit of getting lost.”
Flossie huffs, moving her head back-and-forth, while I watch on. “What can I do?”
“We just need to part the fence.” Hale briefly gazes up at me. “Can you hold the top part steady? I’ll untangle her wool then pop her back through.”
After agreeing to help, Hale climbs the fence, his long legs effortlessly jumping over.
When I cautiously approach, Flossie cries in disapproval.
“It’s okay,” I coo, wondering if it’s even possible to reason with a sheep. “You’ll be out soon.”
“These’ll protect your hand.” He pulls a huge pair of gloves out of his pocket then hands them to me. On me, they’re like baseball gloves. “Ready?”
I kneel down next to Flossie, who I’m certain is shooting me funny looks.
“She’s smaller than the rest of the flock,” Hale tsks. “Always getting into trouble.”
“You seem to know her well.”
Flossie thrashes around, but a calming stroke on the back has her relaxing instantly.
“I do.” Tongue peeking out as he concentrates, Hale carefully untangles the wool. “I helped deliver her. My first lamb birth.”
I screw up my face. “That sounds messy.”
“It was an experience, for sure.” Hale chuckles. “We didn’t think she’d make it. She was much smaller than her brother. Herowner was considering putting her down, but I was able to nurse her back to health.”
“And this is how she repays you?” I shake my head at the troublesome sheep. “You don’t know what’s good for you, do you?”
“Those with independent, strong spirits tend to be the ones who are in the most need of love.” Something tells me Hale isn’t just talking about Flossie. “Okay, I think we’re good now. Are you ready?”
I get myself into position, holding the wire still. “All set.”
