Page 9 of Finding Silence
An added benefit is that she keeps the young ones in check. Those would be Ginger, an American Quarter horse, and Mac, who is a Percheron cross. He’s the one I favor riding, and he’s a good workhorse to boot. On the rare occasion Savvy comes out with me, she takes Ginger.
I can’t see those two but they’re probably just over the rise on the other side of the field, near the creek.
When I get out and head to the back of the truck, the chickens are already clucking away in their pen, looking for food. But it’s not until I flip the first bag over my shoulder, I notice two of the chickens coming out of the open barn doors.
What the blazes?
Dropping the bag of feed to the ground, I rush around the side where the pen is, to find part of the chicken wire ripped off the frame and bent down.
That goddamn goat.
The next ten minutes I search for Angus around the barn, in the field with the horses, down by the creek, and in the backyard of the house, where he likes to steal the few vegetables I try to grow every year. Not that I’ve been very successful, it was always more Marie’s thing than mine, but since Buck brought over that damn goat, I think I’ve had maybe a handful of beans, he’s eaten everything else.
Resolved I may have to hunt him down in the Bronco, I head to the front of the house to find that shiny Mercedes I saw earlier pulling into my driveway. I watch as my new neighbor climbs out of the driver’s seat and disappears around the back of the SUV. A minute later she reappears, leading Angus by a rope.
“That’s Angus, that’s my goat,” I immediately incriminate myself like an idiot.
At least she’s grinning as she walks right up to me. Angus bends down and starts munching on the ridiculous pink daisies on her flip-flops.
“I know it’s your goat, your daughter told me when I called her. Angus was eating my underwear off the line.”
From her pocket, she pulls a scrap of purple lace.
“Just so you know, these were my favorite boy shorts. He already ate the pink, the orange, and the blue set before I got to him, in case you’re wondering why he’s suddenly pooping in rainbow colors. Oddly enough, he left alone my bralettes, it seems he has a penchant for panties though.”
I don’t know what boy shorts are, or bralettes for that matter, but I’m seriously contemplating what smoked goat would taste like.
“I’ll make sure it never happens again, and I will replace whatever he…ate,” I tell her stiffly, not sure what else to say, as I pluck the rope from her hand.
“Honestly, there’s no need, I?—”
She snaps her mouth shut when I stop her with my raised hand.
“I will replace them,” I repeat, feeling the heat crawling up my neck. “Just tell me where you got them.”
She shrugs and throws up her hands.
“Okay, if you insist. The brand is Cosabella, and I think the model is called Allure, but you may be hard-pressed to find a store that would carry them here in Silence.”
She begins walking backward to the SUV as she’s still talking. Still wearing that damn smile. I try to concentrate on what she’s saying, but I’m too distracted by the purple scrap of lace dangling from her hand, and those bouncing purple curls around her beaming face.
Is the woman always happy?
“Last resort, you can always try their online store, it’s Cosabella dot com. You do have a computer, don’t you?” she tosses out as an afterthought when she already has her hand on the car door.
“Yes, I have a computer,” I return, annoyed.
Never mind that it’s old and only used to read my newspaper in the morning because they don’t print the damn things in paper anymore.
She doesn’t need to know that.
“I’m a large, by the way,” she calls, before waving as she gets behind the wheel.
A vexing woman.
Chapter 4
Phil
