“Sometimes I perform small procedures on the animals.”
“Ever dealt with a birthing horse or bracku in here?” I asked.
“Of course.”
There was a flippant confidence in his tone. Like transferring his medical training to the livestock had been nothing at all for someone like him.
“I have used that tub for washing a sickly newborn calf,” he said. “It’s clean now, of course. It can be filled with warm water. I will show you how later. I must do a few more things today. Get the shuldu back in their stalls for the evening now that it’s getting towards winter. The wind can pick up at night.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said, forgetting about my need to bathe and perking right up at getting to see the shuldu again. I wouldn’t be comfortable riding one anytime soon, but I was ready to learn everything about caring for them.
The sun was setting, casting everything in shades of orange and gold, when we came upon the three shuldu. Today, they weren’t with the cattle in their paddock, which was a relief. I was not excited about coming face to face with that charging bull again anytime soon. Wyn left the other two and came towards us at a slow, comfortable walk.
The way the dipping sun hit her beautiful golden coat made me suddenly breathless with an odd mixture of nostalgia and hopeful longing. She and the other two shuldu really were beautiful animals. So horse-like, with their strong legs and long necks. But instead of a mane, she had two large horns on her head. And her tail wasn’t long like a horse’s but rather shorter and pointing straight up.
In that light, with her colouring, she reminded me a little bit of Glory.
“What a beautiful girl,” I crooned as she reached us. I reached out and let her nuzzle my hand, then patted her velvety neck. Zohro produced a small yellow something or other – like a seed or hard berry – from his pocket. The shuldu whinnied in excitement, already nosing for it.
After a beat, Zohro gave it to me instead.
“Thanks,” I said, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat and let Wyn take the treat from my hand. “That’s a good girl, eh?”
“You are very comfortable with them.”
“I told you I grew up on a ranch,” I said, continuing to pat Wyn. I couldn’t seem to stop myself. It felt so damn good. “We had our version of shuldu called horses. I loved them so much.”
“Why did you leave? If you had a home, a safe place to raise your child already? And the horses?”
I watched my pale fingers as they stroked Wyn’s shiny coat. It was easier to say the hard things if I wasn’t looking at him.
“Yeah, I had a home. I grew up with Pa. He was my mama’s husband, but not my biological father. He was more of a guardian I guess. An unwilling one.”
“He did not wish to take care of you?” Zohro sounded absolutely astounded by that, which made me want to simultaneously hug him and hide from him. Bless this big pink Zabrian. So protective, so willing to take me in, even if it was only for atonement for what had happened to Meryn.
“It’s complicated,” I said. “My mama… He really loved her. She got thrown from a horse late in her pregnancy which put her into labour, and she started bleeding… She died right after I was born.”
“This is why you did not want to ride a shuldu.”
“Yeah. And I just… If she hadn’t died, I think things could have been really different for us. But he was too sad. And Ireminded him of her too much. People used to tell me all the time that I looked more like my mama than my own mama did. When I told him about my pregnancy, he kicked me out.”
“He kicked you?” Zohro hissed with such fury that Wyn startled and tossed her head away from my hands. Giving Zohro suspicious side-eye, she wandered away to munch on some grass.
“Not kicked physically,” I assured him. “He made me leave.”
Zohro hardly looked comforted by that.
“He forced you from his home? This was not your choice?”
“No. But, like I said. It’s complicated. I think he has a lot of trauma about what happened to my mama, and-”
“Why do you make excuses for him?” Zohro’s question was cutting. Knife-like. A demand I could not escape from.
“I don’t think I’m making excuses… I just…”
“You just think he has adequate reasons for turning you out of his house? Pregnant and alone?” Zohro made a sound of disgust, low in his throat. “Your Pa. The father of your child. The pilot who brought you here. How is it that you have been so thoroughly failed by every single male in your life?”
Yet another demand. His white eyes dug into mine, seeking answers. Something told me that he would not accept me running away from his questions. Or from him.
