Shadow Lines
I was elbow deep in cow udders when my cell phone rang.
Hopefully, the caller was my veterinary friend returning the message I'd left. My face was pressed against warm quivering cowhide. I managed to say, "Dr. Eve St. Giles," into the voice-activated headset without getting a mouthful of hair. I ran a swab along the udder wall and placed it in a test tube.
"Eve?" My sister's strident voice came through loud and clear, causing the cow to shift away from me.
"Shhh," I whispered to the nervous animal. "Every-thing's going to be all right."
Actually, the situation here in Yorkshire was anything but all right. Constables in yellow slickers and armed with rifles stood outside the barn, ready to slaughter this and every other cow on the farm if my verdict was mad cow disease.
"Did you just tell me to shush?" Yvette demanded over the receiver.
"Not unless you've developed hooves and are chewing your cud since I last saw you."
Silence.
So much for that admittedly poor attempt at lightness. My sister had never understood our physician father's need for humor in tense situations either. I swore Dad was a ... read full excerpt from: Shadow Lines ebook
