Page 89 of Second Chance with the Rancher
“Fumble? Only in the country would you know a goat.” But he pulled over nevertheless, and Mieka flung open her door before the cab even came to a full stop. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she started walking, then picked up the pace to a run, keeping her eyes on Fumble the entire time.
“Hey, buddy, what are you doing out here by yourself?
Fumble bleated at her as if to tell her to fuck off.
Then, in true Fumble fashion, he pissed and made sure to get it all over his legs and beard again.
“Oh for crying out loud,” she grumbled.
“Mehhhhhh!” Fumble brayed in response. He hopped sideways up and out of the ditch and into the middle of the road.
“Gonna be roadkill soon,” the cab driver hollered out his window.
Mieka glared at him. “A little help would be nice. No need for the running commentary.”
The cabby snorted, but opened his door and slowly ambled into the middle of the road so that Fumble couldn’t take off down the road to Denver.
“Come on, Fumble,” Mieka said again. “I’ll give you some delicious carrots when we get back home. I promise. Anything you want. You want to eat my shoelaces? They’re yours. You want a grilled cheese sandwich? I’ll make you one with some of Asher’s favorite expensive Gruyere.”
“What kind of goat eats grilled cheese?” the cab driver asked.
“Goats will eat just about anything,” Mieka said, slowly approaching Fumble. She was in a slight crouch. Anybody who drove up on this ridiculous scenario would think they were trying to disarm a bank robber or pry a toy poodle from the jaws of a mountain lion, not coax a delinquent goat to return to his barn.
“Come on, Fumble,” the cab driver said. “The name suits him.” He shook his head. “Fucking country folk.”
At the insult, Fumble crapped himself in the middle of the road. A car zoomed by and honked, scaring the goat—and scaring more crap out of his rear end in the process—and causing him to jump back into the ditch. Mieka lunged for him, falling onto her belly in the gravel, but managing to hook the pinky finger of her left hand into Fumble’s collar.
“Yes!” she breathed, wedging more fingers under the collar and tightening her grip. “Gotcha!”
The cab driver, who wasn’t much for words it seemed, was already making his way back to his car.
She led Fumble over to the cab. “Can we go back to the ranch and return him, please?”
“You’re not bringing that filthy, creepy-eyed thing into my car,” the cab driver explained, eyeing Fumble with disgust. “I just watched him piss all over himself.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. Not my problem. You hired me to drive you to the airport. Never said anything about a goat.”
Mieka growled, but her grip on Fumble’s collar tightened. “Okay, well, can you like follow me back to the ranch then?”
“It’s your money.” The cabby shrugged.
Rolling her eyes, Mieka pulled Fumble over to the shoulder of the road and they started to walk. But her back wasn’t happy with the hunching over she was forced to do to keep hold of the goat, so she stopped, took off her belt and looped it through Fumble’s collar to create a leash of sorts.
“That’s better,” she said, standing up to her full height, while still holding on to Fumble.
They’d driven farther away from the ranch than she thought, because it wasn’t long before sweat started to bead on her forehead and trickle down her chest from the hot bright ball of fire in the sky beating down on them.
“Why do you keep trying to leave, Fumble?” she asked, not caring that she was having a one-sided conversation with a goat. The cab driver probably already thought she was crazy. She may as well feed that assumption even more. “The ranch is an amazing place to live. You have everything you could ever want or need. Food, shelter, family. Endless petting and attention from the children who come to visit, lots of things to climb. There are people there that care about you and love you. You could have been turned into Ray’s auntie’s jerked goat a long time ago, and you haven’t been. So that’s saying a lot.”
The goat glanced up at her with his weird eyes. He blinked a few times but didn’t say anything, then they continued to walk.
“The people at the ranch only want what’s best for you, Fumble. What will make you happy and live your best life. The opportunities are endless. There’s so much to do, I can’t imagine you actually get bored. And the beauty of the land… I know you haven’t been around the world, but the ranch truly is a gorgeous place. Triss, Asher and Nate… they love you. This is where you belong, Fumble. Where you’re meant to be. Where you can live your best … life.” She stopped in her tracks hard enough to cause Fumble to choke a little on his collar and let out a meh of disapproval.
A tear slid down her cheek, but she smiled. The revelation was like a goat had kicked her in the back of the head, and a bubble of laughter forced its way out of her throat, abrupt and loud enough to make Fumble startle and try to step away from her.
“It’s where I belong. Where I’m meant to be. Where I can live my best life.”
