Page 15 of One Hundred Humbugs

“I am so sorry,” he said, crouching down next to the broken statue. It had once been ... well, he wasn’t quite sure. A cherub, maybe? Or perhaps a chubby fairy? Now, tacky porcelain shards littered the overgrown grass. Daisy stood nearby, chewing nonchalantly as if she hadn’t just committed an act of garden vandalism.

To Becket’s utter surprise, Ruby burst out laughing—full-bodied, doubled-over laughter that seemed to bubble up from her soul. “Oh my god,” she wheezed between gales of laughter. “Did you see her face? She looked so guilty!”

Becket blinked, relief washing over him. “So ... you’re not mad?”

Ruby shook her head, still fighting to catch her breath. “Are you kidding? That thing was hideous. My uncle must have picked it up at a yard sale. Now I don’t have to figure out how to get rid of it without feeling guilty.”

As Ruby’s laughter subsided, Becket joined in. The absurdity of the situation—a goat solving Ruby’s dilemma—was too much to resist. They stood there, laughing together in the middle of the overgrown yard.

When they caught their breath, Ruby wiped a tear from her eye. “You know, Becket, when Marge gave me your number, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I have to admit, this is the most fun I’ve had in ... well, longer than I can remember.”

Becket’s chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with the summer heat. “I aim to please. Landscaping and entertainment, all in one package.”

Ruby’s expression softened, the tension lifting from her face as her eyes crinkled at the corners. It was a nice change from the worried frown she’d worn when he first arrived.

As they settled on the porch steps, Becket relaxed for the first time in weeks. The goats continued their work in the background, providing a strangely soothing soundtrack of munching and occasional bleats. He made a mental note to clean up the shards of the broken statue later—goats weren’t exactly picky, and he didn’t want them mistaking them for a snack.

“So,” Ruby said, taking a sip of her drink, “how does a guy end up in the goat landscaping business anyway? I’m guessing it wasn’t your childhood dream.”

Becket’s expression softened, though a hint of sadness lingered in his eyes. “No. This is a new gig. I had a farm, nottoo far from here. Goat farm, if you can believe it. We made cheese, milk, the whole nine yards.”

“Wow.” Ruby’s eyebrows shot up. “What happened?”

Becket sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Drought hit. Hit hard. Feed prices went through the roof, and then the land I was renting got sold out from under me. Before I knew it, I was scrambling to keep my herd fed and housed.”

Ruby’s face softened, understanding dawning in her eyes. “That must have been tough.”

“Yeah,” Becket nodded, his gaze distant. “I had to sell most of the herd. Couldn’t bear to part with all of them, though. These guys,” he gestured to the goats in the yard, “they’re like family. So, I had to get creative.”

“And that’s how you ended up in landscaping?”

Becket nodded thoughtfully. “I was looking for a spot for the goats to graze and came across a vacant home. The yard was overrun with weeds, so I contacted the listing agent, Marge Gunderson, to see if we could work something out. One thing led to another, and now I’ve got a whole side gig. It’s a new thing.”

Ruby laughed. “A whole business, just like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Becket said, grinning. “It just sort of fell into place.”

Ruby shook her head in disbelief. “That’s ... kind of brilliant. In a crazy way.”

“Hey, sometimes crazy is all we’ve got,” Becket shrugged.

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the goats work. Becket snuck a glance at Ruby, noticing how the tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders seemed to have eased a bit.

“What about you?” he asked. “How’d you end up here?”

Ruby sighed, twirling her glass in her hands. “Inherited the place from my uncle. I was struggling in Chicago, freelancing and just scraping by. Then, I get this letter saying I’ve got a house in Aspen Cove. Seemed like a lifeline, you know?”

Becket nodded, understanding all too well how desperation can lead to grasping at any opportunity when things got tough.

“But now,” Ruby continued, her voice tinged with frustration, “I’m here, and it’s ... overwhelming. The house is a mess, the yard was a jungle until you showed up, and I’ve got the bank breathing down my neck about credit card payments I can hardly afford.”

“Starting over is never easy,” Becket said.

Ruby tilted her head, studying his face. “Is that what this is for you? Starting over?”

Becket nodded. “Every day. It’s a strange mix of terrifying and exhilarating.”

“I know the feeling,” Ruby said, glancing at the goats as they continued their feast.

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