18. Bliss
Bliss
It’s one of those no-good, very bad, horrible days. I left the house at five this morning to go check on my lambs and found that a coyote had gotten into the herd and killed two of my favorites. They were a set of Merino twins.
I had to catch an ewe and take her up to the barn, then I pulled one of my triplets that I had penned up in the barn.
The triplet mother had enough milk for two lambs, so the third will do better on my other ewe.
The issue is trying to convince her that she wants to raise this lamb as her own.
It’s going to take a while to graft the lamb onto her.
She definitely did not fall in love with her adopted lamb at first sight.
I ended up in a full-on wrestling match with her to get her to let it nurse.
After that, I had to go look for the other two missing pairs, which I’m assuming got chased off by the coyote. I eventually found both in the ravine with one lamb stuck in a bush.
I brought them up to the barn as well, which was quite the event, trying to catch the lamb and ewe and put them on my four-wheeler.
I’m setting them up in a pen with some water and feed. They’ll probably be just fine, but he was stuck in that bush for a while, and I want to make sure he gets enough milk from his mama before they decide to go on a run around again.
My phone rings, and I glance down to see Zane’s name on the screen.
I unlock it and answer. “Hello?”
“You’re all right,” he says immediately.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I was getting worried about you. I tried calling a couple of times, but you didn’t answer.”
“I was out in the pasture, and I only get service when I’m here in the barn,” I explain.
“Are you coming home soon?”
“Yes. I still have to go find the goats. I think they got out again.”
“Do you want help?”
“I think I’ll be okay. There are only five of them. I should be able to find them.”
“It’s already dark,” he reminds me. “If they won’t go far, maybe you should wait and find them in the morning.”
“I wish, but I have a coyote problem out here. I’d rather put everybody in the barn. I’m bringing all the sheep in tonight.”
“Okay, be safe.”
“I will. Thanks.” I hang up the phone.
That was strange. He called to check on me, and it’s rather domestic of him.
I glance at the phone. It is nine o’clock at night. I’m tired, and I wanna go home and soak in that big bathtub, but I need to put the sheep in until I can get rid of that coyote.
I get the group of sheep into the barn—there are only one hundred pairs here, and my dad is letting me use a big old straw shed as a lambing barn—but now I have to go find my goats.
I walk out to my pickup to grab my spotlight from underneath the seat. Just as I pull it out, headlights shine over the rise of the gravel road.
This can’t be good.
Hopefully, it’s someone I know, but I also really don’t enjoy being out in the dark alone with who knows who driving toward me.
I slide my hand into the truck, pulling my rifle a little bit closer. I keep it in the truck for coyotes if they’re brave enough to be here when I get here.
The truck rumbles to a stop behind mine. The lights shut off when the door opens, and the dome light comes on.
Zane steps out and walks over to stand in front of me.
He glances at the open door of the pickup with the rifle sitting within arm’s reach. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I shake my head. “Normally, other people don’t come up here, so you had me a little nervous when you pulled in.”
Zane frowns at me. “I was worried about you.”
“Very nice of you to be concerned.”
“I found your goats,” he says helpfully.
“Really?” I ask. “Where?”
“They’re back on the county road. They were standing on the yellow line when I was turning into the driveway. I didn’t want to send my dogs after them because they tend to bite smaller things, and they don’t have soft mouths.”
“Okay, well, I’ll probably run down there on the four-wheeler with Chip and try to run them back up here.”
“That sounds good. You won’t need my dogs, right?”
“No, Chip will do it. He’s good with them.”
Chip yips from his spot, sitting on the four-wheeler seat, paws resting on the handlebars.
Zane smirks at the dog. “I’ll come with you and see if I can help. But just fair warning: I’ll probably be in the way.”
It almost seems like he’s looking for affirmation, like he wants me to want him to come with me.
“Help would be awesome. These goats have turned out to be an absolute pain.”
“I can at least hold one or block a gap. Sometimes, I can be a little useful.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I walk over to the four-wheeler and climb on. Zane climbs on behind me, straddling the seat and pushing me forward. Our legs are pressed against each other, and I’m practically sitting on top of him.
It’s like the guy’s never gotten on a four-wheeler with someone else before. Normal people sit on the back, either facing backward or pointing both legs to the side. Apparently, not Zane. He likes to get cozy with the driver.
Chip is getting squished between me and the handlebars, so I have to settle back against Zane.
“Comfortable?” he murmurs.
“Mmhmm,” I squeak as I fire the Honda up.
Chip yelps in excitement, and I make him sit on the back so I can drive.
Zane’s arms wrap around me as I shift into first.
We take off down the driveway, and it only takes a couple of minutes to reach the end of the lane. Luckily, this four-wheeler’s lights work—unlike the other one I have back at my parents’ place.
And there they are. Five goats are lying in the middle of the road, as if this is the spot where they’re gonna sleep. I shift down and pull onto the road, swerving to go around the group as widely as possible.
I’m not used to someone else being on the Honda with me, besides Chip—who’s used to my erratic driving—and when we do our little swerve, Zane swings far to the right and nearly takes me off the Honda with him.
“Sorry about that,” he mutters. “Do you wanna leave me here so you can turn them in?”
“That sounds great,” I tell him.
He climbs off and stands in the middle of the road to keep the goats from going farther that way. I turn around and pull the Honda into the ditch, blazing past the goats to get ahead of them and turn them back toward the driveway.
I let Chip off, and he’s shaking with excitement. The dog should get tired at some point in his life, but he never seems to.
The goats start running straight toward Zane.
He holds his arms out to look kind of big, and all of them turn down the driveway, except for the billy goat.
Zane has to jump out of the way before the goat slams into his legs, and he makes a frantic grab at one of the horns as the goat tries to go blazing by.
It’s a good thing Zane is so sturdy, because that goat would have wiped me out. He has big, curly horns and a mean look in his eye. But Zane holds the goat there while I drive forward.
“He’s got a lovely personality,” Zane says wryly.
The goat tries to shake loose, but Zane is more stubborn.
“I’m glad he didn’t take out your kneecaps,” I say with a laugh.
“Is he like this all the time?”
“He has his moments,” I tell him. “Sometimes, he’s nice and friendly. Other times, he’s trying to bust your chops.”
Zane drags the stubborn goat over to the four-wheeler and lifts him up, tipping him onto the back rack.
He’s not a small billy goat. Doing that move would require some finagling on my part, and Zane lifted him up like it was no big deal.
“This guy stinks so bad.” Zane coughs to exaggerate his point.
“I know. I’m sorry. You’re probably gonna smell like a billy goat for the next six weeks now.”
He shakes his head. “This is why I do cows and not goats.”
“Because you have a sensitive sniffer?” I tease him.
A hand grabs my face, and the horrible goat smell is inescapable.
“Zane!” I shriek, throwing an elbow back and catching him in the ribs.
“Now who’s sensitive?” He laughs, pulling his hand back. “They seem like a group of menaces.”
“Well, I’ll tell you, this isn’t the first time these goats have gotten out, and I’m beginning to agree with you on not being a goat person.”
“Why do you have these?”
“I just wanted some control, and I thought I’d get a few. Then I figured if I had a few, I should get a billy goat. That way, I could have adorable baby goat kids.”
“That makes sense.”
“But I’m kind of regretting my life choices with the amount of trouble they’re causing.”
“You’ll forget all about it when those nannies have their kids,” he says with a grin.
The goat lying on its side strikes out to kick Zane right in the gut.
He grunts and pins the goat’s legs while he climbs onto the Honda behind me. “Ready. I’ve got a shower with my name on it.”
With Zane sitting on the seat, there’s not a lot of room between him and the gas cap, which means I’m gonna really be sitting on his lap this time on the way back.
At least Chip has decided to run back, trailing the goats as they head back to the barn.
I try to scoot as far forward as I can, but then my thighs are bumping the handlebars.
“Don’t worry about me. You won’t squish me if you lean back,” Zane offers.
That’s not what I’m worried about, I think, but I don’t say that.
With a resigned sigh, I slide back against him, settling against his lap. I turn on the Honda again.
It’s a good thing it’s dark; otherwise, he would see me blushing like crazy right now.
We follow the other four goats all the way back up to the barn. They run under the side overhang and immediately start climbing the panels to get into the barn. One of them jumps all the way in, not even bumping the top of the panel.
“I can see why you have a hard time containing these guys,” Zane comments.
“They really don’t respect fences,” I reply as I shut off the four-wheeler.
I climb off and hold the billy goat’s legs while Zane jumps to the ground. He lifts the goat down and leads him toward the barn. The billy isn’t fighting anymore now that he knows there are snacks at the end of this trip.
I can’t really blame him; I’m the same way.
We get everybody tucked in and lights off in the barn, and I turn to face my husband. “Thanks for coming and checking on me and helping me get those guys back in. It would’ve been a lot more of a rodeo if you weren’t here.”
“No problem. Happy to help. I was just getting worried about you ’cause, usually, you’re home by this time.”
It’s funny how a few simple words can make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
He was concerned about me, and that’s why he’s out here.
“Well, are you ready to head back?” he asks.
“Yeah, I need to shower too.”
“Sounds good. I’ll race you back,” he teases as we walk toward the pickups.
I left the Honda parked by the barn because I’ll need it in the morning.
“It’s nice weather. Almost thought about jumping in the creek today,” he says conversationally as I latch the gate behind us.
“I’m so sweaty and disgusting after today,” I admit.
“Always takes me a while to adjust to the warmer weather. See you at home.”
It takes us less than ten minutes to get back to his house.
I put the dogs away in the barn, get them all fed and watered, and then head up to the house.
Zane already made it through the shower and is walking down the hall toward the living room.
Shirtless, wearing athletic shorts.
It’s the most skin I’ve ever seen on him.
“Hopefully, I smell less like a billy goat now,” he says with a laugh.
I try to say something, but my focus isn’t really on his words right now.
I’ve always known Zane is strong and athletic, but it’s different when you have a good, close-up view of his muscles.
I snap my gaze up to his face, and I see him smirking at me.
“Like what you see?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I’m going to shower. I might have to walk out without my shirt; it’s so hot.”
Zane throws back his head and laughs as I walk down the hall. I’m going to need a nice, long soak in that glorious bathtub.
Maybe it’ll wash away the image of how sexy my husband is.