Page 19 of One Hundred Humbugs

“Not again,” he muttered, his eyes following Lucy’s accusatory gaze toward the back fence.

That’s when he spotted it—hoof prints leading to an old barrel he hadn’t noticed before, sitting right next to the fence.

“Houdini,” Becket groaned. “Of course.”

It was obvious what had happened. The naughty goat had used the barrel to clear the fence, leaving Lucy behind to keep watch. Becket sighed, pulling on his boots and bracing himself for the inevitable chase. The tracks disappeared into the snowy landscape beyond the yard.

Without wasting another moment, Becket sprinted towards Ruby’s house, his boots crunching in the snow. He bounded up the porch steps two at a time and knocked on the door with more force than he intended.

A bleary-eyed Ruby answered, her hair a messy nest and her oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder. “Becket? What’s wrong? It’s not even dawn.”

“Houdini’s gone,” Becket blurted. “I need your help to find him before he gets into trouble.”

Ruby’s eyes widened, suddenly alert. “Gone? How? When?”

“Must’ve been during the night,” Becket explained, gesturing to the snowy landscape. “The snow covered his tracks. He could be anywhere by now.”

Ruby bit her lip, worry etching lines across her forehead. “Okay, let me grab my coat. We’ll find him.”

As Ruby hurried to get ready, a wave of gratitude washed over Becket. Here she was, jumping into action without hesitation, even though she hardly knew him or his goats.

“Hey,” Ruby said, reappearing at the door, bundled up in a winter coat. “Alright, Goat Whisperer. Let’s go find your escape artist.”

They set out into the chilly morning, their breath forming little clouds in the air. As they walked towards town, Ruby’s anxiety seemed to grow.

“What if we don’t find him?” she asked. “What if he’s hurt? Or worse, what if he’s destroying someone’s property? Oh god, everyone’s going to hate me. I’m the newcomer who let a destructive goat loose in their town.”

Becket placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. Houdini’s smart. He’s just looking for a good meal.”

Ruby didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, squaring her shoulders as they entered the main street.

It didn’t take long to spot the trail of destruction. A string of half-eaten garlands led them down the sidewalk.

“Oh no,” Ruby groaned. “This is a disaster.”

They rounded the corner to find Houdini standing triumphantly atop a pyramid of Christmas presents that had been part of the town’s holiday display. The goat was munching on a cardboard star, tinsel draped across his horns like a festive boa.

“Houdini!” Becket yelled. “Get down from there, you troublemaker!”

The goat looked up, regarding them with what could be described as a smug expression. Then, with the agility of a much smaller animal, he leapt from the display and took off down the street.

What followed was a chase through town. Becket and Ruby slipped and slid on icy patches, got tangled in fallen decorations, and apologized profusely to every person they encountered.

“I’m so sorry,” Ruby panted to Katie as they raced past B’s Bakery. “I promise I’ll replace everything!”

Katie, standing in the doorway with a tray of fresh muffins, just laughed. “Don’t worry, honey. This is the most excitement we’ve had since Old Man Jenkins tried to convince everyone he’d seen Bigfoot in his backyard!”

As they turned into Hope Park, they found Houdini engaged in a standoff with Sheriff Cooper. The goat was eyeing the tinsel on the gazebo, while Aiden was trying to lure him with his half-eaten muffin.

“Houdini, no!” Becket called out, just as the goat made a leap for the gazebo.

In a move that would have made any action movie proud, Becket dove forward, arms outstretched. He managed to grab Houdini mid-jump, both of them tumbling onto the ground.

“Gotcha!” Becket yelled.

Ruby rushed over. “Are you okay?”

Becket grinned up at her, snow clinging to his hair and Houdini tucked firmly under his arm. “Never better.” He looked down at the goat. “I’m telling you, Houdini, one more stunt like this and you might find yourself the main ingredient in a goat stew. How does that sound, you tinsel-eating troublemaker?”

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