Page 12 of One Hundred Humbugs

As he climbed into his truck and started driving toward Ruby’s place, a sense of excitement surged through him. A new job and maybe a new opportunity. He just hoped Ruby wouldn’t be too surprised when she saw the crew he was bringing along.

“Well, gang,” he muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror at the trailer, “here’s hoping Ms. Whitaker’s a fan of goats.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ruby leaned against the porch railing, tapping her foot anxiously. Flakes of old paint stuck to the soles of her shoes, evidence of how long it had been since the porch had seen a fresh coat. She’d called Becket Shepherd earlier, on Marge’s recommendation, but now that he was on his way, she wasn’t sure what to expect.

Marge had said he could handle the overgrown yard, but Ruby hadn’t asked too many questions, too desperate to get something—anything—started.

She glanced at the yard, wincing at the sea of weeds that had once been a lawn. At this point, she half-expected to spot a family of raccoons setting up a mini subdivision out there. Maybe she could charge them property tax.

A truck engine rumbled up the drive, yanking her out of her thoughts. She straightened, instinctively sucking in her stomach—a pointless habit born from years of worrying about appearances, even though her clothes were now hanging on by a thread, quite literally. Not that anyone would notice, given they were held together with more hope than fabric. A beat-up truck rolled intoview, towing a trailer that looked like it had fought through the apocalypse and lived to tell the tale.

A man hopped out, tall and broad-shouldered, dust still clinging to his jeans like he’d just walked off a construction site—or maybe stepped out of one of those home renovation shows where the host always looks impeccably rugged. Ruby waved hesitantly, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach. Now was not the time to get distracted by a handsome face, no matter how effortlessly handsome he looked.

She’d learned her lesson after dating that smooth-talking vacuum cleaner salesman who’d left her with a top-of-the-line dust sucker and an empty wallet.

“Becket?” she called, hating how uncertain her voice sounded. It was the same tone she used when answering calls from unknown numbers, bracing for yet another debt collector.

“That’s me,” he replied as he sauntered toward her. His relaxed confidence made her wonder if he knew what he was in for with this yard. Either he was good at his job, or he was as clueless as a cat in a dog show.

Ruby eyed the trailer, hearing the faint sound of live animals. She wondered if she was hallucinating. Maybe the stress had gotten to her, and she was about to be carted off to a sanitarium. At least there, someone else would mow the lawn. “Uh … what’s in the trailer?”

Becket’s grin widened. “The best landscaping crew you’ll ever meet.”

Ruby frowned, her eyebrows knitting together like two caterpillars in a wrestling match. “Landscaping crew?”

“Goats,” Becket said simply, with all the confidence of a man announcing he’d discovered the secret to world peace.

She stared at him, thrown off. “You brought goats?” The words came out sharper than she intended, but seriously?Goats? She half expected him to pull a rabbit out of his hat next and claim the rabbit was an expert in hedge trimming.

He nodded, proud of his plan. “Yep, they’re efficient, eco-friendly, and love to snack on weeds. This place will be cleared out in no time.”

Ruby blinked, her arms crossing instinctively. Emotions swirled within her—disbelief, frustration, and a tiny spark of curiosity. “And you expect me to pay you to let your goats eat my yard? Shouldn’t you be paying me? After all, I’m feeding them.” She paused, then added with a smirk, “Though I suppose I should be grateful. At least goats might be cheaper than the small army of landscapers I thought I’d need.”

Becket leaned casually against his truck. The ease with which he carried himself served to heighten Ruby’s agitation. Did nothing faze this guy?

“Fair point,” he said. “Tell you what—we call it even. I’ll clear your yard for free, and I’ll just hang out while the goats get the job done.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes, suspicion warring with desperation. “So, you’re doing all this for free? And I just let your goats eat the yard?” She glanced at the overgrown mess. “Honestly, at this point, I’d let a herd of elephants have a go if they offered.”

“Yep. Easy deal, right?” The look on Becket’s face was as bold as the ‘Past Due’ stamps on her bills.

Ruby considered it, biting her lip. With her bank breathing down her neck and no real cash to spare, she couldn’t afford to argue. Plus, free sounded good right now—a word she hadn’t heard since her last sample day at the grocery store. “Fine,” she relented, “but if they eat anything important, like the house or the fence, that’s on you.”

Becket gave a mock salute. “Deal. Don’t worry, my goatshave discerning tastes. They’re like the food critics of the animal world.”

As he opened the trailer, Ruby held her breath. Part of her still expected this to be some elaborate prank. Maybe she was on one of those hidden camera shows.Extreme Makeover: Bungalow EditionorPimp My Yard.

But sure enough, the goats trotted out one by one, sniffing the air like they were judging the yard’s selection at a gourmet salad bar. The yard itself was bigger than most, easily spanning over half an acre, with a sturdy fence enclosing the entire property.

Ruby watched as Becket moved along the fence line, checking for any weak spots. He disappeared briefly into the edge of the woods, where the trees offered the house a good deal of privacy. After a few minutes, he circled back and headed out of the yard toward his truck.

He returned a moment later, carrying a coil of portable fencing. “I’ll set this up later to keep them corralled overnight,” he said, nodding toward the goats. “Even with the main fence, I like to make sure they stay in one spot after dark.”

She glanced at the goats, scattered across the yard in various states of relaxation. One was nibbling lazily at a leaf; another stretched out on its side, eyes half-closed.

“So, this is what we’re working with?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen more enthusiasm from teenagers asked to clean their rooms.”

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