Ten minutes later, I entered our room to find my son not in bed. Granny was humming in the kitchen, and the smell of fresh coffee led me into the sunny room. Dahn was not here either.
“He’s outside with the goats. Boy has some real drive,” she said and passed over a mug of coffee. “We’re doing some blueberry pancakes today. I’ll call when they’re ready.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go see how he’s doing.”
With that, I made my way to the goat paddock to find Baker leaning against a four-wheeler, watching my son and a small red and white goat having a discussion about a show collar and lead. The goat was not buying it at all and began blatting for help from its mother. Mom was eating grain inside and seemed not to give a hoot about her daughter at the moment.
“She’s not even got the collar on yet, and she’s yelling,” I commented as I joined Baker at the Honda.
“Yeah, I’m starting to see that goats are drama queens from a young age.” He gave me a rare smile. Brilliant actually. “Hanley’s coming home today.”
“Ah, I wondered what that stupid-ass grin was about,” I said and got a roll of his eyes. “I hope you’re taking time to go to a hotel or something?”
“Oh, hell yes.” That made his scruffy cheeks turn as pink as the sunrise sky. “I wasn’t expecting him back so soon, but he heard about an incoming hurricane off the Gulf and wants to see if he can get some images of the bald eagles over Lake Looking Man at the rez. Guess he wants to get rain imagery? Seems goofy to me to sit out in the rain to take pictures of wet birds, but it makes him happy.”
“And that’s the most important thing, isn’t it? Seeing the man you love happy.”
I took a sip as he chewed on that silently, finally giving me a slow nod of his head. “So if you and the other jackasses could make that final fencing check out by the river and then check in on the progress of the guest cabins, I sure would appreciate it.”
“Can do. I might take Dahn out with me for a ride. I need to talk to him alone, somewhere where if he does get upset, no one will see him. He’s at that funny age where he loathes having anyone see him cry, but he still cries easily.”
“If you’re taking horses, have Ford saddle up Persimmon for Dahn. He’s too old to get into too much trouble. You have gottenbetter at riding, so you could take any of the others but not Prissy.”
“Well, sure, she’s your horse.”
“That and she’s a shitter who needs an experienced hand.”
“Got it. We’ll take Persimmon and Upton.”
“A ginger riding a ginger. Sounds like a gay porn I once saw.”
We had a good chortle over that as Dahn and the goat kid had a standoff that ended with the show collar around the goat kid’s neck for about ten seconds before all hell broke loose. The kid slipped the collar, ran into him and knocked him onto his ass, then escaped back into the goat barn.
“Hey, son, you might want to start with a halter,” Baker called out, giving me a wink around the brim of his hat as Dahn pushed to his sneakers to brush the dust off the ass of his jeans. “Also, wear boots in the ring. That goat kid might not weigh much, but when you show the bigger goats and they tromp on your toes, you’ll wish you had something with more protection. Ask me how I know that.”
Dahn ran over to stare up at Baker like he was now a god of the show ring. Which he was. What I knew about showing farm animals would fit in a filling cavity.
“Did a goat step on your foot?” Dahn asked, his cheek smeared with dirt, his hair uncombed, and his dark brown eyes alive with the joy of life.
“Worse, a beefer. You learn real fast to wear good shoes when a thousand-pound market steer does a fandango on your toes.”
Dahn’s mouth fell open. I smiled and tapped his chin to close it before a sleepy fly decided to zip inside.
“Wow, okay, I’ll find a halter and get good boots. Dad, I think I need goat-boy boots.”
“Not sure they make such a thing but grab two. One pair for the ring, which will have to be polished, and one pair for home to train in,” Baker advised, so I added that to the what I was surewould be a long list of necessities for a goat showing young man. “Now, I need to go shower and get a few things tossed into a bag. Keep an eye on the girls while I’m gone.”
“We’ll hold down the fort. Tell Hanley hello for us.”
Baker took off, leaving my son and me alone by the goat barn. Several kids darted outside, their mothers moseying out with them to find a shady spot before it got hot.
“How about we wash up and get some breakfast and then take a ride out to check on the line cabins for Baker? We can take the horses as long as you obey everything that I say,” I tacked on when his eyes went round as saucers. He’d done quite well with his riding lessons, at least as well as the rest of us, so I felt confident enough to go on a slow ride along a well-used path for an hour or so excursion. I always had a cell phone and a walkie-talkie when we left the ranch and rode out onto the plains.
“Yes! Yes!” He nearly rocketed skyward but did manage to pick up his collar and return it to the barn before racing out to dart past me into the house at full speed. If only they could bottle that energy…
***
We set out around nine after stuffing ourselves with pancakes. I informed Ford and Linc that I would be back by noon for lunch. After that, I would grab the fencing supplies and jump on a four-wheeler. We were moving the cattle from one range to another to give one pasture time to recover while the beefers grazed another.
