Chapter 17

Merdi did indeed brush the sheep herself that day. The wool of Belloc sheep, raised on the lush grasses of the estate, was renowned for its quality. Running a comb through the fluffy fleece never felt like a chore. The sight of the sheep closing their eyes in contentment was enough to lift her spirits. Another of her simple joys was sneaking them special treats—chicory or carrots pilfered from the kitchen with Emma’s help. That was how precious these ten sheep were to her. She had named every single one.