Page 57 of 15 Summers Later

“Probably in here. He usually comes inside at night.”

Most of the farm animals at the shelter preferred to sleep inside the facility, where it was warm and dry and safe. She turned on the light over the goat area of the barn and they found Barnabas exactly where she had guessed, stretched out on the hay-strewn floor beside two other goats. The other one, Martha, must be outside.

She smiled. “Hey, Barnabas. Hello. Look who’s here. It’s your favorite vet. Come say hello to Dr. Gentry.”

He gave a grumpy sound, exactly like some of her college roommates used to make when their alarm clocks went off Monday morning after a weekend of partying. Like her roommates at times, the goat made no effort to move, quite deliberately turning on his other side to face the opposite end of the stall from them.

She rolled her eyes. “Barney. Don’t be rude. Come on. Dr. Gentry only wants to check and see how your leg is healing. You should feel special, sir. He doesn’t make evening house calls for just anybody.”

After a sullen moment, the goat finally lumbered to his feet.

“He seems to be moving on it a little better,” Luke observed, putting on his gloves and grabbing the salve from the storage shelf outside the stall.

“Yes. I’ve noticed that. And it doesn’t seem to be as tender when we have to change the dressing.”

While she held the goat in place, Luke spoke softly to the animal before gently picking up his left hind leg. Barnabas bleated his annoyance, which stirred up the other goats in the pen.

“Now look,” Madi chided. “You’ve awakened everyone else, dude. Not cool.”

The goat clearly didn’t care. He blew another of those raspberries that had made Sierra laugh so hard earlier in the day.

Luke applied the salve and reapplied the dressing. “Another few days and you can probably take the bandage off.”

“Oh good. That will make him happy. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Is there anyone else I need to check while I’m here?”

She did a quick mental inventory of all their current residents. “Yes, actually,” she suddenly remembered. “Chester has been off his feed for a couple of days. Sierra tried to exercise him today and he was having none of it. That’s very unlike him. He loves her and is always happy for the chance to hang out and play.”

The miniature horse they had rescued from a petting zoo was usually cheerful and energetic, a favorite of all the volunteers.

“I’ll take a look.”

They made their way together to the stall Chester shared with their Jerusalem donkey, Sabra. The two were happiest when they were together.

Sabra snuffled to greet them, but Chester stayed in the corner of the stall.

“Can you hold him still for me?” he asked her.

Madi wrapped her arms around the gray horse and spoke softly to him while Luke did a cursory physical exam.

Apparently he touched something painful near his abdomen because Chester stomped his hooves and his left front hoof landed square on Madi’s right foot.

She gasped as pain seared up her leg, icy and mean. She had worn light canvas sneakers to the party and hadn’t changed into her work boots before coming to help him. Big mistake.

“What happened?” Luke asked, his eyes concerned.

“Nothing. I’m f-fine,” she lied, embarrassed at the shaky note in her voice.

“Madi. What happened?”

She sighed. Luke wouldn’t let it go. “It was totally my fault. He stepped on my foot. I should have put on better shoes.”

He looked at her thin sneakers. “Go sit down. I’m about done checking him over and then I’ll come take a look at you.”

“I’m f-fine, really. I can help you.”

“Madi. Go sit down. I’ve got this.”

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