“Right. Of course. I’ll jog back down and tell Lyle all is good. Try not to think too hard about that beer order. I love you.” He bent down to kiss me, his soft lips moving over mine, unknotting some of the tension in my soul.
“Love you too,” I mumbled when the kiss ended. “Now get to work before the boss crawls up your ass…in the good way.”
He snorted, patted my cheek, and exited stage right, leaving the door cracked. I enjoyed watching him leave before exhaling loudly. My sight fell on the cold desktop. Well shit. Now I would have to really do the dreaded beer order or Kenan would know that I’d been feeding him a line of bullshit.
Chapter Six
Kenan looked more than befuddled as we stood on the back porch with a slimline, ultra-powerful mini flashlight as the stars winked down on us from above.
He held the light under his chin like we were two lads out in the dark back yard reading ghost stories instead of two dedicated goose owners about to do goose owner stuff.
“Okay, so explain this to me again,” he said and shone the light in my face. I held out my hand for the light. With a sigh, he handed it over. “I’m a little hazy on the actual procedure and why I’m even required.”
I glanced skyward. We’d been over this daily. He was just stalling. “So, it’s been two weeks since Wilma started incubating her eggs.” I looked his way. The flashlight pointed at the ground with just enough light to see his worried but oh-so-pretty face. His hair was down, his guard up. “What we’re going to do is examine the eggs to see if there are goslings inside them. This is called candling the eggs for viability. If the eggs are good, we put them back under her. If they’re bad, we dispose of them. Ifsome are good and some bad, we take the bad ones away so that they don’t accidentally get broken in the nest. Rotten eggs are rancid.”
“I was sure you were going to say they were fowl.”
I shot him a flat look that made him titter. “Sorry. It had to be said. I get why this is done, and it makes perfect sense.” I nodded. Of course it did. Would I do anything that didn’t make sense when it came to my geese? Nope. I swatted a mosquito sucking on the back of my neck. Damn things. “What confuses me is why there is a we in this whole outing.”
I rubbed at the bite on the nape of my neck. “You’re part of the family.”
“Aw, that is so sweet.” He pecked me on the cheek. “They hate me, though.”
I waved that off as I stepped down into the dewy grass. “They hate everyone right now. Wilkes refuses to come here until fall. I almost had to get a post office box, but he finally gave in and is leaving my mail at the alehouse until further notice.”
“Personally, I think he’s being a bit over the top. Yes, Fred did charge the gate, and yes, he did stick his head through the picket fence slats, and yes, he did manage to get a hold of Wilkes’s little scanner thingy hip holster, and yes…” He paused. “No, okay, Wilkes is totally justified in his decision.”
I padded over the lawn, flashlight on the grass lighting the way, nodding along. “Yeah, he was. I get it, but in all honesty, they’re just protecting their space and that nest. Geese get such bad raps for doing what every other animal does, and that’s protect their young and their territories.”
“We need to get you a T-shirt that says ASK ME ABOUT GEESE on the front.”
That made me chuckle. “Yeah, I guess I get a little defensive about it. And sure, wild and to a lesser extent, domestic geese can be quite hostile at times, but they’re just staunchlyprotecting their life mates and kids. Yeah, it hurts to get bit and whacked by a wing on a thirty-pound bird, but if people would just learn to respect them, especially during breeding season and when there are goslings, there would be far fewer incidents. It’s kind of like how dummies walk up to bison in state parks and then get tossed around like a hacky sack by an affronted buffalo. Give the animals their space.”
“Yeah, dumb bison picture snappers!” He hooted then broke into light giggles.
“Well, people are dumb.”
He rubbed my back as we neared the coop. “Now, this is not going to be easy, but we do have the advantage of it being dark. What I’m going to do is open the coop, grab Fred, and hand him to you to hold.”
A long silence fell next to me. I glanced over at my man. His face was slack. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, it’s okay. There’s a nice trick to handling them.”
“He hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s just worried you are going to hurt Wilma. So, what will happen is this. After I open the coop, I’ll grab Fred and hand him to you. Make sure to keep his wings tucked into his side with one arm and have a firm but gentle grip on his neck just under the head to keep his pinching part in control. You tuck him into your body to pin the one wing, and presto. Goose wrangled.”
“You’re mad.” I couldn’t help but snort at him. “No, honestly, you are insane. That goose will eat me like an apéritif, then spit out my bones.”
Now that made me laugh out loud. A barred owl called out in the far distance. “My love, they are not carnivorous. He will not eat your flesh or your bones. Just hold him like I showed you, and all will be good. I’m doing the dangerous part. I’m wiggling close to Wilma, reaching under her, removing the eggs, candlingthem while trying not to be wing-whacked, and then placing the good ones back under her.” He seemed less than convinced. “We can switch if you’d rather deal with an irate goose mom?”
“Nope. Nope. Nope. Just hand me the damn gander. I must really love you a lot to do this.”
I leaned over to kiss his tense lips. “I know you do. And I love you for helping with the kids. You ready? This is going to be fast. The quicker we do this, then resettle them, the less stress it will be on the birds.”
“What about the stress on the human goose handler helper?”
“I’ll relieve your stress when we’re done.”
