Page 7 of Capricorn Blessed

The rescue farm is how I would picture farms from a movie. A big red barn, a small farm house with a picket fence, and lots of fenced off pastures surrounding it all.

I called earlier today to ask if they would be willing to take on a goat and the woman who answered was seemed nice. She said the gate would be open and to just come ring the doorbell.

The taxi pulls up and we ask him to wait as we both climb out. I carry Billy up to the door and Dennis presses the bell.

A woman with a light brown braid hanging over her shoulder opens the door. Her eyes light up as a smile breaks over her face.

“You must be Sierra,” she says. “And this must be the little fella you found last night.”

“I am and he is,” I answer. “Thank you again for agreeing to take him. I couldn’t leave him there alone, but can’t imagine a goat living in an apartment.”

“You’re the one who needs the thanks. This little guy wouldn’t have lasted long trapped as he was,” she says. “I’m Anna, by the way. I run this place with my husband. Would you like to come in?” She steps back slightly so we can enter.

Dennis looks at me, letting me decide.

“I would love to see what all you’re doing here, but we have a taxi waiting. I’d hate to waste his time.”

She nods and holds her hands out. “Well, you have my number. If you want to come check on him, you can give me a call, but rest assured he’s in good hands out here at Storybook Farms.”

I thank her and pass Billy over to her. She steps inside and Dennis and I turn to head back to the taxi.

We climb into the backseat and ask the driver to take us back to Astoria.

“How about we go for drinks somewhere? We can celebrate the life Billy now gets to live out here on the farm.”

“That sounds great,” I say. “I was fully prepared for you to call me crazy and move on with your night, but instead you helped me save a goat and still want to get drinks with me.”

“We all have our own eccentricities, and this is one I can live with. Who can be mad when it’s over a helpless animal?”

Chapter 4

Is He the One?

After returning to my Astoria, Dennis and I head to the local bar near my apartment.

Walking in, I stride up to my usual seat, ignoring my shoes sticking to the floor and the smoke that seems to fill the air even though it’s a nonsmoking establishment. I slide out a black vinyl high-top chair in the middle of the bar and sit down. Dennis slowly follows, sitting next to me and grabbing a cocktail napkin to wipe his hands and the bar top in front of him.

“Do you come here often?” he asks, turning to face me.

Sarah, the bartender, wearing her leather vest, places a frosty pint of Guinness in front of me before I can reply.

“Sia, how are you tonight?” She smiles, pulling a rag out from under the bar and wiping the top down before dropping a cocktail napkin in front of Dennis. “And what can I get for you?”

I laugh to myself at her asking a question and forgetting to listen to the answer. She’ll come back for a catch-up chat once everyone has been checked on.

“Bud Light in a bottle, please,” Dennis answers her.

“We’ve got cans or draft,” says Sarah.

“A can is fine,” he replies.

She turns to the fridge, grabs a drink, and pops the top open, setting it on the napkin before going to check on someone else who came in.

“I’m going to guess it’s a yes if the bartender knows your name,” Dennis says, turning to me. “How did you find this place?”

“It’s the closest bar to my house.” I shrug. “And it has good people if you come at the right time.”

“And when would the right time be?” he asks.

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