"Oh, Clementine." Joy dropped to her knees at the mud's edge. "Stop fighting, baby. You're making it worse."
The goat's sides heaved with panic, eyes rolling white. Every movement drove her deeper.
"I've got her." Andre waded in without hesitation, mud sucking at his boots.
He worked his arms under the pregnant goat, muscles straining as he fought both her weight and the mud's grip. Clementine was one hundred and eighty pounds of frightened, pregnant Nubian goat. His grunt of effort was genuine as he lifted, the mud releasing her with a wet sucking sound.
"Easy, mama. Easy now."
Clementine thrashed once, then went still, shock making her passive. Andre staggered to solid ground and set her down gently. The goat stood on trembling legs, muddy but mobile.
Joy pulled a halter from where she'd slung it over her shoulder, approaching slowly. "Easy, mama. Let me get this on you." She slipped it over Clementine's muddy head, clipping the lead rope into place.
"I'll walk behind her, make sure she keeps moving," Andre said, breathing hard.
Joy rattled the grain bucket with one hand while holding the lead rope with the other. "Come on, Clementine. Let's get you home."
The pregnant goat took one tentative step, then another. Progress was slow, with frequent stops to rest, but she walked on her own power. Joy kept the lead rope just taut enough toguide without pulling. Andre stayed close, ready to support her if needed, occasionally steadying her when she swayed.
By the time they reached the barn, Joy's entire body thrummed with exhaustion and fury. They settled Clementine in a stall with fresh hay and water. Ten down. Five to go.
"I need a minute." Joy sagged against the stall door. Not because her body couldn't continue, but because her heart felt bruised. Clementine could have lost her kids. The kid’s leg needed stitches. She would do whatever it took to protect her goats.
Andre moved to the water spigot, splashing his face before drinking deeply. Water dripped from his chin as he straightened, gesturing for her to take a turn.
Joy drank straight from the spigot, the cold water shocking her system back to clarity. When she straightened, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Andre was watching her with an expression she couldn't read.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For being here. For helping."
They stood there, both breathing hard. Andre's uniform was soaked with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. Dawn was starting to lighten the eastern sky.
"We still have five goats out there," Joy said, pushing off the wall.
"Then we'd better keep going." He straightened, matching her determination.
The next search found three more huddled together near the equipment shed, smart enough to stay close to home but too scared to return to the broken pen. Joy rattled the grain bucket, and they came running, nearly knocking her over in theireagerness. No halters needed for these ones. They'd had enough adventure.
"Two left." Joy's voice was raw. "Where could they be?"
A plaintive cry answered from above.
"How did she even get up there?" Joy stared at Buttercup, who had somehow climbed onto the equipment shed roof using the hay bales stacked against the wall.
"Goats." Andre shook his head, but he was almost smiling. "I'll get her."
He tested the hay bales, then climbed carefully. The goat watched him approach, torn between fear of heights and fear of the stranger. But when he held out a handful of grain, hunger won. He slipped the halter over Buttercup's head, securing the lead rope before guiding her down the hay bales step by step, one hand steadying her flank while the other held the rope taut.
"One more to go," Joy said as they penned Buttercup with the others. "Where's Snowball?"
They found her trapped in old fencing at the property line, bleating pitifully. Joy untangled the wire carefully while Andre held the flashlight. The goat was too exhausted to fight, following them back on trembling legs.
First light painted the mountains pink as they penned the last goat with the others. All fifteen accounted for, including the injured kid whose wound still seeped through Andre's makeshift bandage.
"I need to get her to Doc Morrison." Joy checked the kid's leg again. The bleeding had slowed but not stopped. "His emergency line should be open by now."
"Want me to follow you?" Andre asked. "In case you need help carrying her in?"
Joy considered. The kid would need to be kept still, and an extra pair of hands might help. "Actually, would you mind holding her while I drive? Keep her calm?"
