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Springtime at Wildacre: the gorgeously uplifting, feel-good romance (Animal Ark Revisited Book 3)




  Contents

  Praise for the Hope Meadows series

  About the Author

  The Hope Meadows series

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Keep Reading …

  Praise for the Hope Meadows series

  ‘A wonderful heartwarming story … I couldn’t turn the pages quickly enough’

  With Love For Books

  ‘A gorgeous book to curl up with for a few peaceful hours of reading’

  Shaz’s Book Blog

  ‘An adorable read [with] a real sense of village community’

  Bookworms and Shutterbugs

  ‘A stunning, emotional, beautiful tale of friendship, love, and the importance of being who you need to be … I laughed, I cried, and I cannot recommend [the novel] highly enough – it really has got it all!’

  Books of All Kinds

  ‘[A] lovely romp through the glorious Yorkshire countryside … a really lovely summer read and the start of a promising new series’

  Jaffa Reads Too

  ‘Just the right amount of nostalgia … wonderful and very poignant’

  The World is a Book Blog

  ‘An incredibly lovely story’

  Rachel’s Random Reads

  ‘The author creates a perfect balance between the human and animal stories in this book … this is an absolute must read for animal lovers’

  The Book Bag

  About the Author

  Lucy Daniels is the collective name for the writing team that created the bestselling children’s book series Animal Ark. Hope Meadows is a brand-new Lucy Daniels series for adult readers, featuring the characters and locations that were so beloved in the original stories.

  Sarah McGurk, the author of Springtime at Wildacre, has the twin advantages of being passionate about Animal Ark, and a fully qualified vet. Sarah writes fiction related to her work in general practice and in emergency and critical care. Her special interests include anaesthesia and pain relief, and low-stress techniques in small animal handling.

  Sarah currently lives in Norway. She has worked for two years in a local veterinary practice and speaks Norwegian fluently.

  The Hope Meadows series

  Summer at Hope Meadows

  Christmas at Mistletoe Cottage

  www.hodder.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Hodder & Stoughton

  An Hachette UK company

  Copyright © Working Partners Limited 2018

  The right of Working Partners Limited to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

  ISBN 9781473653917

  Hodder & Stoughton Ltd

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  www.hodder.co.uk

  Special thanks to

  Sarah McGurk BVM&S, MRCVS

  To Mum and Dad, Helen, Corinna and Alex, with love.

  Chapter One

  ‘There’s a third lamb in here.’ Mandy Hope looked over at the farmer. Mr Ruck crouched on his haunches on the cropped grass as he steadied the head of the Wensleydale ewe. Mandy was unsure how this information would go down. A pair of lambs was ideal – sheep had only two teats after all. Three was a bonus that not many farmers would appreciate. The two lambs that had already been born writhed in the grass next to the ewe.

  But Mr Ruck grinned, his short white hair ruffling in the soft breeze that carried with it the clean scent of the moorland turf. ‘The missus’ll be delighted,’ he said. ‘This old ewe’s one of her favourites. We’d almost given up on her this year, she’s so late with her lambs.’

  Mandy pictured Prudence Ruck in her mind. Mr and Mrs Ruck’s daughter, Harriet, had been in Mandy’s class at school and Mandy had often visited her friend at Quarry Cottage. Harriet’s dark-haired, dark-eyed mother had always been creating something from the wool she and her husband produced.

  ‘How is Prue?’ Mandy asked as she nudged her arm a little deeper inside the sheep. So far, she had only found a head. There should have been two front feet as well. She had to get them into the correct position before the lamb could be born.

  ‘She’s doing great,’ Mr Ruck replied.

  ‘Is she still knitting?’ Mandy pressed her fingers forwards another inch. There was the left leg, tucked away along the side of the lamb’s body.

  ‘She is that,’ the old farmer nodded. ‘We’ve got a new outlet these days at Upper Welford. The unit there has been a great boon.’

  Mandy thought back to the previous summer when she had visited the little row of artisanal shops that had been opened in the steading at Upper Welford Hall. She was glad it had boosted the business of many villagers. Jobs could be scarce around here, she knew.

  Mandy’s eye was caught by a movement near her elbow. One of the lambs that had already been born had staggered to its feet. It tottered across the grass, wobbling with knock-kneed determination towards its mother. Its tightly curled fleece was already almost dry, its rather large ears and bright eyes gave it a quizzical look. As she watched, it opened its mouth and let out a high-pitched bleat. The ewe lifted her head and gave the grumbling chuckle to her newborn lamb that Mandy loved so much.

  She returned her thoughts to the invisible puzzle inside the ewe. Although she had brought the first leg forward, it wasn’t in quite the right position. The elbow was now straight, but the carpal joint was still contracted. She left it for now. Pushing along the other side of the lamb, she felt for the second foot. There it was, right back against the compact little body. A tightening on her forearm told her the uterus was contracting. The ewe’s head was back down and she grunted softly as she lay on her side and strained. Mandy waited until the pressure was past, then keeping the tiny cloven hoof away from the wall of the womb, she tugged it forward. As the next contraction began, she could feel two feet a
nd one head pressing forwards.

  Both of the lamb’s toes were pointing downwards rather more than they should have been. Mandy held them safely within the birthing passage as the lamb surged towards her. The little hooves appeared first, followed by a reassuringly twitchy nose. As the uterus contracted again and the sheep made a final grunting effort, the head appeared, followed in a rush by the rest of the tiny creature. Mandy removed the remainder of the amniotic sac from the small white face and to her pleasure, the lamb raised its head, shaking its rather large ears free. The ribcage lifted as the newborn took its first gasping breath.

  Mr Ruck was looking at it with concern. ‘Those front legs don’t look quite right,’ he said.

  Instead of stretching out straight, the joints just above the little cloven hooves of both front legs were bent over. ‘He has contracted tendons,’ Mandy confirmed. ‘It happens sometimes when there hasn’t been much space. We’ll need to wait and see how the little chap gets on when he stands up.’

  She looked around at the surrounding moorland. It was unusual to be lambing a ewe up here on the high tops. It had been more common when her parents had first opened Animal Ark, the veterinary clinic that lay down in the valley. Nowadays, most farmers brought their sheep into the practice for assistance, but Mr Ruck had flagged her down as she had been returning from an early morning call out.

  ‘We won’t be able to keep an eye on the little lad up here.’ Mr Ruck seemed to have divined her thoughts. ‘We’ll take them down into the field beside the cottage. Could you wait while I give Prue a call, please? She’ll bring the trailer up.’

  ‘Of course,’ Mandy said. ‘If you could just hold onto Mum a moment longer while I have a last check inside.’ Even though the ewe already had three lambs, it was vital to make sure there were no more, and that there were no problems with the uterus. Mandy lubricated her gloved hand one last time and bent to examine the ewe. Everything seemed fine. ‘Yep, all fine,’ she told the farmer. Pulling her hand out, she shifted up to the ewe’s head and took over from Mr Ruck. There were no pens up here on the moor. If they let the wily animal go, it would be very difficult to catch her again.

  Mr Ruck stood up, stretching his legs with a groan. ‘I’ll just take a wander over there,’ he said, pointing. ‘Get a better signal.’ Pulling a mobile phone from his pocket, he strode off in the direction of the lane where Mandy’s car was parked.

  It was the most beautiful morning, Mandy thought. A soft breeze played across her face as the sun shone down from a clear sky. No matter how many times she assisted in a lambing, it never seemed to lose any magic for her. Three new little lives had begun today and she knew she’d helped it happen. She watched as lamb number three began to make his first tremulous efforts to rise. Despite the stiffness in his forelimbs, he was as determined to stand as his two siblings, who were already butting their heads against their mother’s flank looking for milk. ‘It’s down here.’ Mandy tried to guide them into position, but they pulled their heads away, shaking their ears at her. It would be easier when the ewe was home and standing up.

  Mandy’s gaze wandered over the moorland. It was so green under the huge curve of blue sky. Other ewes were scattered amongst the jutting grey rocks that littered the landscape. Their low voices called out, the piercing bleats of the youngsters answering as they gambolled in the sunshine. A few feet away, a pair of older lambs burrowed their heads underneath their mother for milk, tails whirling as they drank.

  Near where she was kneeling, Mandy could see the yellow slippers of a patch of bird’s-foot-trefoil bobbing in the wind. Her eyes followed the line of the dry-stone wall, which stretched across the dale. On the far side of the valley, the trees of Lamb’s Wood wore the light green hue that came with the height of spring. Amongst the greenery, she could make out the dark roof of Wildacre, the cottage she had bought last autumn. It had seemed before Christmas that the renovations she wanted would never be complete, but now everything was coming together.

  My own home!

  Her eye was caught by movement further down the slope. A dark figure on a quad bike was riding across the field. She pulled her mobile from her pocket. Despite Mr Ruck’s comment about signal, she seemed to have a couple of bars. With one hand still on the ewe’s neck, she quickly typed in a message: ‘Good morning handsome.’

  In the distance, the quad bike came to a standstill. Despite being little more than a speck, she thought she could see the figure reaching into a pocket.

  ‘Morning beautiful.’ A kiss emoji. The message came winging back and the speck was on its way again. Mandy grinned. Jimmy Marsh, the wonderful man in her life, had no idea she was spying on him from afar. She hugged the information to herself.

  ‘You’re looking rather pleased.’ Mandy turned her head as Gordon Ruck strode back up the hill.

  ‘This has been a great start to the day,’ Mandy replied. She felt a wave of happiness washing over her in a way that was becoming familiar. As well as Wildacre and Jimmy, she had Animal Ark and Hope Meadows. She had grown up in the shelter of Animal Ark, her parents’ veterinary surgery, where she now worked alongside them as a vet. In the autumn, her wonderful adoptive parents had helped her to achieve her life-long dream of running a rescue centre. Hope Meadows was now filled with furry residents, all of whom needed Mandy’s help. She couldn’t help but feel very, very lucky.

  ‘Prue’s on her way,’ Mr Ruck told her. Even as he spoke, Mandy saw the square shape of a Land Rover making its way up the narrow lane, towing a small silver trailer.

  ‘I think that little chap’s going to be okay.’ Mandy nodded towards lamb number three, who was now standing on his toes. Though he couldn’t straighten his legs completely, he was managing to totter forwards without falling. Had he been walking on his knees, she might have had to splint the legs to correct the deformity, but as he was managing to walk, a couple of days of running around outside would most likely sort him out. ‘Keep an eye on him for a few days. If his legs don’t straighten, then bring him in and we’ll take another look.’

  The Land Rover pulled up in the lane and Prue Ruck walked across the springy turf towards them.

  ‘Morning, Mandy.’ The dark hair and eyes were still as Mandy remembered from all those years ago when she had first visited her friend Harriet. There were a few more wrinkles, but Mrs Ruck barely seemed to have changed. Her face filled with delight as she regarded the ewe and her three lambs, which were all on their feet, gazing around with wide eyes. She bent down and put a hand on the mother sheep’s flank. ‘You’re a good old lass,’ she told the ewe. Mandy continued to hold the ewe’s head as between them, they encouraged the sturdy animal to her feet. Prue took over and guided the long-legged sheep towards the trailer as Gordon Ruck assisted. Mandy walked behind, ensuring that the three lambs were following too.

  ‘We can take it from here.’ Prue turned to smile at Mandy as Gordon lifted the ramp to close the trailer on the four animals. ‘Likely that little ’un will need an extra bottle or two, what with there being three of them. The old lass won’t mind. Always been one of my favourites, she has. She was a pet lamb herself, years ago. My little Wendy.’

  Mandy couldn’t help but smile back. It was good to know that her patients would continue to receive good care.

  ‘So how are you, Mandy? And how is poor James doing?’ Mrs Ruck’s eyes were kind.

  A pang of sadness went through Mandy. It was nearly a year since James’s husband, Paul, had died from the awful bone cancer that had riddled his body. Watching her best friend go through such grief had been the hardest thing she had ever experienced. ‘He’s doing … okay,’ Mandy said. It was the truth. James would never be the same again, but he was managing.

  ‘Well, give him our love, won’t you?’ said Mrs Ruck. ‘I’ll tell Harriet you were here. She’s very busy at the moment, but she was saying just the other day that she’d like to see you two again.’

  It would be nice to catch up with Harriet, Mandy thought. Behind Mrs Ruck,
across the valley, a movement caught her eye. The tiny figure had climbed off the quad bike and was wielding a mallet to bang in a fence post. For a moment, Mandy was distracted, but pulled her mind and eyes back to Prudence. ‘Thanks,’ she told Mrs Ruck. ‘Please give her my best.’

  ‘Will do.’ With a last nod, the older woman turned to get in the car alongside her husband. ‘Best be getting along. I guess we’ll see you at the Spring Show if not before,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a stall for my knitting.’

  ‘That’s great!’ said Mandy. The Welford Spring Show was a highlight of the village year – and Mandy’s too. A whole day outdoors, having fun, eating great food and being surrounded by beloved pets and livestock was something she could always enjoy. Mandy waited until the trailer had pulled away before returning to her own Toyota.

  Morning surgery was in full swing at Animal Ark when Mandy returned. She was pleased to see Tango, the old ginger cat that her dad, Adam, had adopted, sitting on the reception desk. His golden eyes flickered as Helen, Animal Ark’s veterinary nurse, typed in some information into the computer. Occasionally he reached out a paw to tap Helen’s hand, as if reminding her he was there.

  When Tango had first been brought from Hope Meadows, they had tried to keep him in the cottage. But he had been so persistent, following Adam out to Animal Ark every day and meowing loudly at the window until he was let in, that they had finally relented. He was now their official Practice Cat. He butted Mandy’s face, purring loudly as she leaned down beside Helen to scan through the appointments.

  ‘Just the one for you.’ Helen pointed at the screen with a grin. ‘Your dad is doing all the rest. He’s really getting into the swing of all the dogs and cats.’

  As time had gone by, Mandy had been taking over more of the farm work from her father. She had worked in a small-animal practice before her return to Animal Ark, but she loved going out to see the horses, cows and pigs that made up the majority of Animal Ark’s larger patients. They rarely saw sheep outside of lambing time, but the spring flood of new births had been an added bonus for Mandy. Lambing was physically so much easier than calving and just as satisfying.