Chapter 6 #3
“Just a couple introductions, and then I’ll show you upstairs.”
I frown and twist my head around, looking for any other people in the barn. Trista marches down the long alley between the
stalls and stops at the far pen on the left. “This is Millie, the queen of Fletcher Mountain and the namesake for which Mount
Millie Rescue Center was founded.”
I walk to where she stands and lean over the gate. A brown-and-white goat hops up from her spot in the corner to greet us.
“She’s a Nigerian dwarf goat and the beloved rescue belonging to my husband, Wyatt. If you want brownie points with Wyatt . . .
feed Millie snacks any chance you get. She loves veggies. Carrots, celery, that sort of thing. I put some in your fridge upstairs.
Millie and the rest of the mountain think Millie is the number one guy in the group, but actually, it’s this handsome fellow.”
She pushes off the gate to cross the alley to the opposite side. “This is Sir Reginald. The true number one guy in the group.”
I frown in confusion.
“Do you guys not have Vanderpump Rules in Ireland?”
I shrug because I have no idea what she’s saying.
“It’s reality TV magic—a cultural institution. You have to watch it, Wolf. Promise me.” She grips my face earnestly, squeezing
so hard my lips form a round O shape. So I nod woodenly, having no intention of following through with this promise . . .
but I’m not sure I’ll make it out alive if I don’t agree.
She sighs and glances down at what appears to be a small pig.
I can’t actually see much of him because he’s lying on some sort of mattress and covered in an orange felt blanket.
“Sir Reginald is my baby. He’s still bitter I didn’t name the rescue center after him, but Mount Millie was here first, so we had to pay respect, you know? ”
I know my new boss is speaking English, but I can’t understand a word of what she is saying.
“This here is Handsome,” she adds, shooting across the alley again and petting the miniature horse who is struggling to get
his head over the gate to say hello. I recoil when I see his fleshy tongue hanging lifelessly out of his mouth. Trista must
notice my reaction as she pets him and adds, “He has a tongue paralysis that is a permanent medical condition, so he’s always
in a constant state of emoji. Handsome, isn’t he?”
I frown, not sure handsome is the adjective I’d use to describe this animal, but I force a smile to play it off like I think he’s indeed . . . handsome.
“And this is Butterscotch. She’s a sweet little miniature Highland cow—do Irish people hate Scottish people?”
“What?” I ask, jerking my attention away from the cow to Trista.
“Is there like a rivalry between you guys? Or is that just with England because they tried to colonize you and force you to
change your religion?”
“Umm . . .”
“Never mind, we have all summer to cover that.” She sighs happily and glances around the barn. “Chickens are out back in their
coop. I can introduce you to them tomorrow in the daylight. Hard to remember their names if you can’t even see them.”
Her chickens have names?
“This barn used to be heaping full, but a lot of the animals have been moved down the peak to the rescue center now that it’s
fully operational.” She purses her lips sadly. “Only personal pets up here. Rescue pets we’re working toward rehoming live
down there now. I hate it. It feels like segregation, but it’s really just an insurance thing.
“As we discussed, part of your job will be to muck out these pens a few times a week and collect eggs from the coop in addition to the Mount Millie stuff. You can do everyone except Millie. Wyatt takes care of his own goat. And if you try to help too much, he goes from Papa Bear to Grumpy Bear really quick. Trust me, you don’t want to see Grumpy Bear.
Anyways, your place is up this way. Follow me. ”
She leads me down the alley to a set of wooden steps that run down the center of the barn. I follow as we haul my bags all
the way up. When she opens the door at the top and steps aside to reveal the space, I can’t help but feel impressed.
It’s a large loft setting with a kitchen, round dining table, living area, and a big bed on the far wall below some wide windows.
A decent-sized bathroom is to the right, and along that wall is a large desk with various papers and a computer on it. The
wood floor is covered in red patterned rugs, and the ceiling is exposed natural wood with beams.
I knew when I got this job that I was going to be living in a barn above animals, but I expected it to be much more run-down
than this. This is properly decent and more my style than the fancy place we dropped Everly off at.
“That bed has a remote and is adjustable,” she says, pointing to it. “Super-duper comfortable. Like sleeping on a cloud.”
“Sleep out here a lot, do ya?” I joke.
“I lived out here.”
My brows lift.
“Did Everly not tell you how Wyatt and I met?”
I shake my head. The girl told me a lot, but we shockingly did not cover that part, I guess.
She laughs and shakes her head. “Another story for another day. Anyways, sorry about the desk and computer, but we were kind of using this as an office before you came along, so hopefully you don’t mind us leaving this up here.
We do most of our work from the shelter now, but occasionally, we might need to pop up here to do some bookwork stuff. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course, of course,” I state with a nod. “I, um . . .” I clear my throat and squeeze my hands into fists, summoning my
sister Cliona’s extroverted nature to say the next bit out loud. “I really appreciate all you’ve done to make this possible.
I know it was a lot of work to make it happen, and it means a great deal that you took a chance on me.”
Trista smiles warmly. “The rugby thing sounds like a great opportunity, Wolf. I’m happy for you. And honestly, I think this
is a win-win situation because I just don’t have time to do it all, and we need more muscle around here.”
I nod. “I can certainly give you that.”
She reaches out and pats my arm in a nurturing way. “I hope you fall in love with it up here just like I did. This apartment
has a very special place in my heart.” She spins on her heels and glances around, getting a soft look in her eye. “Anyways,
I’ll let you get some rest. You don’t start work until Monday, so sleep the day away. Shake off the jet lag, and please let
us know if you need anything. I know you don’t have a car, but there’s plenty of people around here that can run you anywhere
you need to go. Just shoot me a text. You have my number.”
“Thanks much.”
She makes her way toward the door and stops to add, “Oh, and I loaded the fridge and cupboards for you, so please eat if you’re
hungry. You said no allergies, so I went a little nuts. Frozen pizzas in the freezer, chicken nuggets, Popsicles. All my favorite
food groups.”
I blink back my shock. “Wow, thank you. You didn’t need to.”
“It’s a big deal moving to another country. The least I can do is make sure you’re well-fed.” She smiles again, and I feel
a tightness in my chest over her generosity.
“I’ll try not to let you down, Mrs. Fletcher,” I state seriously because I mean it.
I genuinely don’t want this trip to be a complete failure.
I don’t want to self-sabotage like I have so many times before.
There are a lot of people depending on me to make the most of this, and I don’t want to fail them.
“As much as I love being called Mrs. Fletcher, please stick with Trista. We’re not formal around here.” She glances around
briefly. “And I’m not worried about you letting me down, Wolf. This mountain has a way of healing things you don’t even know
need healing.”
She winks before marching out, leaving me in my new place in a new country with a full fridge, feeling like I’m in for one
heck of a ride up here on Fletcher Mountain.