Page 138 of From Best Friend to Bride
“She’s a house cow!” I insisted, scooting back with Spice still in my lap. “She’s even house trained now!”
He stilled and looked back at Harry. “Shehouse traineda cow? What the hell has been happening here while I’ve been away?”
Harry took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Yes, my lord. It seems that you can train miniature cows to use a bathroom, much like a puppy.” He eyed Esmerelda. “Although some are smarter than others.”
“See!” I said, letting Spice get off my lap when she wriggled in my arms. “You can’t kick her out when she has better toilet habits than Esmerelda.”
Granny gasped. “Don’t rat my baby out like that!”
“Sorry, Granny, it’s every woman for herself out here.” I shrugged.
Fred held up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. I could practically see the exasperation coming off him in waves.
“How the fuck did you house train a cow?” he asked.
“Same as a puppy, like Harry said,” I replied. “It’s only taken two weeks.”
“Is that what you were doing before I left?”
“Yes. Spice is a genius, but even geniuses take a while to learn where to pee, Fred.”
He looked at me, hitting me with his bright blue gaze. “She’s a cow.”
“She’s ahousecow,” I retorted.
“Let’s go, Esmerelda,” Granny whispered loudly. “Let them have their marital spat in peace. Come on, Harry.”
“This isn’t a marital spat,” I called after her. “That would imply an argument, and we all know I’m going to get my own way!”
“No,” Fred said, sitting on the sofa and looking down at me. “I’m not giving in this time. Spice is a cow. Cows live outside.”
“She’s an abandoned mini cow who only knows me as her mother afteryourfavourite cow rejected her at birth. How cruel are you to throw her out? Would you throw out our child?”
“No, because our child wouldn’t be rejected. Neither would our child have four hooves and moo.”
“It’d live around cows. It’s definitely gonna moo.”
“That’s not—bloody hell,” he muttered, sitting back. “The answer is still no, Delilah.”
I stared at him. “I didn’t ask you anything.”
“No.” He held my gaze. “Cows do not belong in the house. I said you could hand-rear her as long as you let her back outside when she was big enough, which you agreed to, and she’s big enough now.”
“She’s only three months old.”
“She’s big enough to socialise with other young cows.”
“The vet said they usually stay with their mother until they’re six months old. Potentially a year.”
“To learn how to be a cow,” Fred replied dryly. “All Spice is learning is how to look at me with puppy dog eyes and sleep on a sofa. Look at her—she’s begging me right now.”
I glanced over at her. He was right. She was standing in front of him, staring helplessly up at him with her big, dark eyes, and I pouted. “How can you turn that face away?”
“Easily. She’s a cow.”
“A house cow.”
“Still a cow.”
