The Wild Card [Harvest Moon: Sunshine Islands]

Chapter 7

Colette groaned and fell back against her pillows. For the hundredth time that week she wondered why she was jumping all these hoops just to get a few animals for her farm. She thought about just going to the mainland and finding someone... somewhere? Someone that would sell her animals without all this nonsense. The titles alone were almost enough to put her to sleep: Common Ailments of Domesticated Livestock and Poultry: A Guide, You and Your Chicken, Equine Care and Management, and a three volume set on livestock management (Animal Husbandry: Bos Taurus Taurus and Bos Taurus Indicus, Animal Husbandry: Capras Aegagrus Hircus and Ovis Aries, and Animal Husbandry: Sus Scrofa Domestica).

Though to be fair, the sensible side of her brain (how she hated it at times) reminded her that she really did need to know how to care for her animals. Most farmers were born to it. They probably could milk a cow before they could even walk. But there was nothing—nothing—in her past to prepare her for this. Even the animals she'd had as a child had been cared for by others. A maid or housekeeper or someone, she flushed bright red with shame that she wasn't even sure who, had taken care of her pets, and her family's head groom had been in charge of family's stables full of horses and ponies. She could saddle and ride a horse, but she had no idea what to feed it, or how much.

So with a deep sigh, she pulled the heavy tome back to her and resumed her reading. Luckily she was a fast reader, and she had near-perfect retention.

Life had settled into a routine for the time being. In the mornings, before it became too hot, she worked on clearing her fields. She wanted to be able to actually grow something in them someday, but right now they were too full of rocks and other debris. It was back-breaking labor, and by lunchtime, she was glad to quit for the day.

After a quick shower and lunch, she'd head into town to run any errands she had and stop to talk with the other islanders. She was gradually getting to know them, and even making some friends. Despite her initial aloofness, Lanna was fast becoming a close friend, as was Julia. Natalie was a little cooler, though she suspected it wasn't anything personal—she just seemed to have a somewhat prickly personality. And although Sabrina seemed nice, she was too shy and introverted to befriend quickly or easily.

Once she'd finished in town, she'd return to her farm, do any evening chores, whip up a quick supper, and settle down to her studies. Over the course of the first week, she'd finished the books on illnesses, poultry, and horses, and was now about halfway through the first of the husbandry series—the one on cattle. It was pretty dry reading, but at the same time, she found it fascinating to learn all about farm animals. Though she'd never willingly admit that to Vaughn, that was for sure.

At the end of the two weeks, Vaughn came to her house early that Monday morning. He found her already up and hard at work, half carrying, half rolling small, heavy boulders from the fields nearest her barn. He looked around, more surprised than he cared to admit. Not only were the buildings looking better than they had in decades, if not ever, she was making significant progress with her fields, too. The section she was working on right then was almost completely cleared, in fact.

She saw him sauntering across the farm toward her, and straightened up, stretching her back and wincing slightly at a sudden pop as she waited for him to catch up to her.

"Ready to take my test?" he called out to her.

"Bring it on, buttercup," she shouted back, glaring at him defiantly.

He scowled at her. He'd been tempted to take it easy on her, since she at least was sincere in her efforts, but that did it—the gloves were off now.

"List the most common species of domesticated livestock and poultry, including their taxonomic classification," he said with a smug grin, settling down on a nearby boulder to wait for her response.

"Most breeds of domestic cattle are either bos taurus taurus or bos taurus indicus, or occasionally a hybrid breed; sheep, ovis aries; goats, capra aegagrus hircus; swine, sus scrofa domestica; horses, equus ferus caballus; chicken, gallus gallus domesticus; duck, primarily anas platyrhynchos domestica but also cairina moschata momelanotus; goose, primarily anser anser domesticus but also anser cygnoides domesticus; turkey, meleagris gallopovo; and rabbit, oryctolagus cuniculus."

He blinked at her in surprise. "Hold on," he said after a moment. "None of my books mentioned rabbits, did they?"

"No, I looked that up on my own," she replied.

"Hmmph. Well, next describe the lifecycle of sheep."

"A female sheep, called a ewe, typically enters estrus in the fall, and for most breeds starting with the first fall after her birth. She is mated with a male, called a ram. After a gestation of about five months, she will go into labor, which lasts up to about three hours in a normal, uncomplicated birth of a single lamb or twins. Lambs are generally weaned at about two months of age, and will reach sexual maturity within a few months of weaning. A ewe's productivity peaks at about three to six years of age and declines after about seven. Domestic sheep have a typical lifespan of ten to twelve years, though they may live longer if healthy and well cared for."

Again he blinked at her. He hadn't expected her to do this well, honestly, and was at a bit of a loss. He asked her several more questions, and her answers continued to be quick, complete, and accurate. Finally, he threw up his hands.

"Fine. You pass. I'll let you have one cow and one hen to start with, all right? If by summer I can see you're able to put that book learnin' to good use, we'll talk about expanding." Then he stood up and strode purposefully away.

The next morning, he showed up with a crate tucked under his arm and a cow on a lead rope. "Here," he said, placing the crate on the ground and handing her the rope. "You'll need to get food for them from Belle. You know, if you convert some of your fields into pasture, you can graze your livestock and let your chickens scratch for insects. It'll reduce your overhead costs."

"That's why I cleared this part of the field first," she replied, gesturing behind her. "I plan to fence it in so I can turn them out whenever the weather is good. Don't worry," she said, holding up a hand to stop the warning forming on his lips. "I won't put them outside when the weather is bad, or leave them out overnight. I've heard the wild dogs howling, you know."

He hesitated, then nodded curtly. "Then be sure you take good care of them. I'll be keeping an eye on you, so don't disappoint me."

As he started to leave, she called out, "Wait! What are their names?"

Without turning around, he shouted, "Whatever you want to call them." Then he was gone.

Looking at the black and white cow placidly chewing her cud and at the small white hen bobbing and clucking inside her crate, she thought for a moment. "I think I'll call you Blossom," she said, stroking the cow's nose. "And you'll be Minnie," she added to the hen. Then she picked up the crate and headed off to put her animals in their new homes before running into town to stock up on feed.