Destroying Angel by Alanna Knight Read Free Book Online

often in a troubled, uncertain future, I was to return to this brief stillness, this tiny magic oasis with Thane at my side.
    At last a shadow came over the earth, the sky filled with darkening clouds and I went in to a lunch set for four. Hubert and Collins (the nurse by designation ate at the family table) were joined by Wolf Rider, much to Thane’s delight, whose exuberant welcome was regarded somewhat sourly by Hubert.
    Mrs Robson leant over with her soup ladle and whispered sternly, ‘Sir doesn’t allow dogs into the dining room.’ A fact I realised was rather obvious since Hubert’s two Labradors remained outside having merely twitched their ears at Thane’s appearance and thereafter ignored him.
    ‘Will it be all right if he stays in the hall then?’ It was hardly my place to apologise, since it was up to the master to give the order, especially as Thane was supposedly his dog. Having overheard, Hubert nodded and Thane trotted off with Mrs Robson, after a reproachful glance in my direction.
    Hubert was aware that Wolf and I had met, and the conversation turned to Kate and her medication. I asked if the local doctor took care of her.
    He sighed. ‘Alas, no longer. We have now given up on doctors and conventional treatments. Kate had an excellent doctor at the hospital in Newcastle who was also a local resident here. When he died most tragically in a travelling accident, we decided to use more unorthodox methods.
    ‘You will find that in this house we are dedicated to herbs and vegetables, to natural food that can be grown and gathered on the estate. Wait until you have tasted Mrs Robson’s mushroom soup, a splendid example of what nature can produce for us.’
    And with a glance at Wolf, he added, ‘Mr Rider is a witch doctor, a shaman in his own native land, where we are aware that the American Indian tribes have excellent results with herbs. He has made good progress with Kate. A last resort that seems to be working,’ he added, as Collins put in rather anxiously:
    ‘There seemed little to be lost in the circumstances.’
    They both regarded Wolf who said dryly, ‘Witch doctor is not a very flattering description, but I agree with Hubert that nature’s cures have always been with us, to hand for the picking, one might say, older and more reliable than dangerous drugs invented by civilisation in search of health and longevity. We believe that as good is an antidote to evil, so too for all sickness there is a herb that can cure, and if that is not possible, then it can alleviate pain.’
    ‘You are certainly succeeding with Miss Kate,’ I said, echoing Hubert’s remarks. ‘She certainly does not look like—’ I paused, realising my lack of tact too late as Hubert moved uneasily in his chair and Collins glanced at him, biting her lip.
    ‘I thought she looked reassuringly well,’ I stammered. ‘And this might well be the explanation. Well done.’
    I beamed at Wolf Rider across the table, who bowed his head in modest acknowledgement of the compliment, while I was considering it strange indeed that Hubert Staines, with wealth and doubtless influence, should put his beloved stepdaughter’s remaining days into the hands of a shaman.
    Vegetable soup was succeeded by poached salmon, and the talk turned to estate matters. In particular, the white cattle and the possibilities of new-born calves being lifted from the herd and shipped to the wealthy Texas rancher to begin breeding a new strain.
    I learnt again that this was a dangerous business, for cows in calf would not hesitate to attack humans, and it was not always possible to predict when and where a calf would be dropped. The cow usually found some secret, isolated place, well away from the herd and particularly the king bull who, in common with many wild animals whose interest ceased with the mating, lacked all paternal feelings regarding his offspring.
    ‘Only Mr Rider has the remarkable gift of moving freely among the cattle,’ said Hubert.