I climb out of the truck, and the rooster fixes me with a beady-eyed stare that screams challenge. I’ve seen this before. Every firehouse has a guy who needs to establish dominance with the recruit.
“Easy there, big guy,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady.
The sound of my voice catches the woman’s attention, and she turns. For a moment, we just look at each other across the yard, and I feel something shift in the air between us. Her brown eyes are sharp, intelligent, taking in my size—all six-foot-eight of me—with an expression I can’t quite read.
Not fear, exactly, but wariness. Like she’s calculating whether I’m going to be the solution to her problems or just another complication.
“You must be Ryder,” she says, walking toward me with a confidence that doesn’t quite hide the tension in her shoulders. “I’m Laney Hillman. Thanks for driving all the way up here.”
“Thanks for considering me.” I gesture toward the roof-bound goats. “Looks like you’re having an interesting day.”
She follows my gaze and lets out a frustrated laugh that’s part amusement, part exasperation. “They arrived this morning and immediately decided to test every boundary I have. I swear they’re doing it on purpose.”
There’s something appealing about her combination of competence and barely contained chaos. She’s clearly in over her head, but she’s not giving up. There’s determination in every lineof her body, and I find myself wanting to help just to see that stubborn chin lift in victory.
“Mind if I try something?” I ask.
“Well, you’re welcome to try, but they’ve been up there a while.”
I walk over to stand beneath the goats, hands on my hips, and look up at them with the same expression I use on my crew when they’re being idiots.
“Bonnie. Clyde.” My voice carries the tone of someone who’s used to being obeyed. “Down. Now.”
The goats look at each other, then at me. For a moment, I think they’re going to ignore me completely. Then Clyde picks his way down, jumping first onto a tower of hay bales and then a stack of firewood like stairs. Bonnie follows him.
They land in the yard and immediately trot over to me, bumping against my legs like they’re seeking approval.
When I look back at Laney, her expression has shifted entirely. The wariness is still there, but now it’s mixed with something that looks like impressed interest. Her eyes linger on my hands as I scratch behind Clyde’s horns, and I catch the small intake of breath when I straighten to my full height.
“How did you…” She stares at the goats, then back at me. “I’ve been trying to get them down for twenty minutes.”
“Tone of authority. Same voice I use when my crew gets ideas above their station.” I keep my voice casual, but I’m aware of how she’s watching me now. “Animals respond to confidence.”
“That’s right, you’re a firefighter.”
“Three years with the Integration Zone Fire Department.” I leave out the part about how I’m still trying to prove I deserve the uniform, or how the hardest fires to fight are the ones in my own head. “So yeah, I’m used to chaos.”
From somewhere inside the cabin, a loud squawk pierces the air: “Green! Green! Pretty green!”
Laney’s eyes widen, and a flush creeps up her cheeks. “That’s Peanut.”
I see a bird in a cage through one of the open cabin windows.
“He’s a Yellow-headed Amazon parrot and apparently has strong opinions about visitors.”
“Big, big green!” Peanut blurts, his voice carrying clearly in the crisp air.
I can’t help but grin. “He’s not wrong. Orc!” I call to him, figuring I’ll use this as a teaching moment. “Big, big green orc.”
“Orc!” The parrot’s voice is so loud on that word it’s as though he’s close enough to ride my shoulder.
“He picks up phrases fast,” she adds hastily, clearly flustered. “I’m finding that he’s smart, but not always appropriate.”
“A mind of his own,” I say, still smiling. The parrot’s commentary is oddly endearing, especially the way it’s making Laney blush.
She nods when she smiles—really smiles this time—it transforms her whole face. Makes her look less like someone carrying the weight of the world and more like a woman I’d like to know better.
“Well, you’ve definitely passed the goat test,” she says, and there’s warmth in her voice now. “Want to meet the rest of the crew?”
