Chapter Twenty
Lexie
Excitement pumps through my veins as I and the rest of my friends cheer at Bridgette’s suggestion. I’ve never seen a real cow up close before, having lived my entire life in the city with no money for fun things like state fairs or trips to the petting zoo.
Grabbing my hand in hers, Tori pulls me toward the doors of the barn. “Comeon, Lexie!”
I hesitate just long enough to look back at Mommy, who smiles and waves me on. “Just stay where Mommy can see you, little imp.”
“Okay, Mommy!”
Permission granted, I let Tori drag me inside—where I immediately stop and stare.
There are no animals. At least, not that I can see. Instead there are peopledressedlike various animals, wandering around on all fours inside little pens.
“Oh they have a new goat!” Dropping my hand, Tori races over to the closest pen and drops to her knees, reaching her fingers through the wire. “Hello, little goat!”
Startled, the woman closest to her, with horns and bright-white ears perched on her head and a fluffy reddish tail somehow attached to her ass—I don’t actually want to know how, considering she’s otherwise completely naked—lets out a short scream.
And promptly faints.
“Miss Bridgette! Miss Bridgette!” Suddenly looking rather panicked, Tori looks around for the tiny woman with the dark hair who met us at the front door.
“Dammit, Sheila,” Miss Bridgette says with a heavy sigh as she comes to stand beside Tori. “Not this again.”
“I didn’t mean to, Miss Bridgette!” Eyes full of tears, Tori looks up at the other woman. “I’m sorry, it was an accident!”
Appearing seemingly out of nowhere, Uncle Max bends down to scoop Tori up into his arms, bouncing her lightly on his hip and shushing her the way one might with an actual toddler. “Shhh, little one. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yes I did!” Tori wails, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I killed her!”
“She’s not dead, sweetheart.” Despite the soothing words, I can tell Miss Bridgette is struggling not to laugh. “Sheila’s decided she’s a fainting goat, the little brat.”
At that, Tori immediately quiets and looks down at the pen where the goat-lady is pushing back up to all fours, apparently unharmed. “A fainting goat?”
“Yes.” Miss Bridgette rolls her eyes. “It’s a breed of goat that screams and then faints when it's startled. Sheila here heard one of my ranch hands talking about them and how funny it would be ifwehad fainting goats and, well, here we are.”
Bending over the side of the enclosure, Miss Bridgette swats the woman’s ass, hard enough to leave a clear red handprint. “We talked about this, you little nuisance. If you scare anymore of the Littles, you’ll be spending the weekend with Jack. Understood?”
All of the color fades from the little goat’s face and she nods her head, letting out a soft sort of bleating sound that Miss Bridgette seems to accept as agreement. Miss Bridgette gives a sharp nod and pats the goat-lady on the head. “Good girl. Scottie will be in soon with some fresh hay for you.”
The woman in the pen gives another softbaaand Miss Bridgette turns back to us with a smile, though it’s significantly more strained at the edges. “Sorry about that, Mr. Stone. Sheila is just a little mischievous but she doesn’t mean any harm.”
Unfortunately, Uncle Max does not look appeased by the apology. He’s still cradling Tori to his chest, his expression set in a severe frown. “I understand. But we can’t have the animals going around and scaring the Little ones.”
“Oh, relax, Maxwell.”
My heart skips a beat at the sound of my Mommy’s voice, and I twist my head to find her standing just behind me, her lips twisted up in a wry smile. “Our Tori is no worse for wear. Are you, sweet girl?”
Sweet girl. Jealousy stirs in my gut at the pet name. That’s what Mommy callsmeand hearing her refer to anyone else that way has my insides twisting themselves into knots.
Still sniffling, Tori rubs at her eyes and shakes her head. “No, Auntie Cat. I’m okay.”
“See?” Reaching out, Mommy gives one of Tori’s sleek braids a gentle tug. “My little niece is tough. She’s not afraid of anything.”
Uncle Max’s expression softens, but only a fraction. “Be that as it may?—”
“Come off it, Maxwell,” Uncle Jasper says with a laugh, and I turn to find him kneeling on the floor beside a woman dressed like a kitten with black ears and a black tail. Juju is at hisside, rubbing her hand over the woman’s bare stomach, while the kitty-girl purrs with contentment. “No harm, no foul. Right, Tori?”
