Dottie nods. “Good, good.”
Ron leads us further into the barn. To my right is a stall that has a few goats inside. A speckled black and white one perches up onto the railed fencing. I shriek, stepping back in shock, a little scared it’s going to haul itself over and hurt me or something. Ron chuckles, reaching over the barrier to scratch the goat’s neck.
“This here is Oreo,” he says. He points out a few more of the goats in the stall. “And here is Popsicle, Cookie, Snickerdoodle, and Pudding.”
“I wonder if your grandkids like sweets?” Thomas chuckles, reaching over and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. Right, he’s my fiancée I have to play the part. I lean into him, and even though it’s warm as hell in here, his touch sends a shiver through my body.
“Blame that one,” Ron says, pointing to his wife. “She always has to make the kids sweet treats when they come. And then, she yells at me when I try to sneak a bite.”
“Because it’s for the kids!” Dottie yells in return. “Iwant you healthy, especially after that scare a few years ago, my love.”
Ron leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “I’m healthy as a horse. I had a checkup a few weeks ago. Doc says I’m fine after a mini-stroke about three years ago.”
My heart clenches as the memory of my mom receiving the call about my grandpa’s stroke flashes through my mind. My hands clutch at each other, and I pinch myself, reminding me to stay in the moment.
Do not get lost in your mind.
Pinching helps as I focus back on Dottie’s teasing remarks toward her husband.
Thomas glances down at me while they’re distracted, his eyes seeking and curious. I offer him a smile that probably looks fake as hell. He raises his brows, but I ignore his silent question, instead turning back to the Graff’s.
The stall that Dottie stands in is connected to an outdoor pasture, and the sun streams in through the open door. She clicks her tongue a few times, and the sound of clomping hooves has me curiously leaning forward to see.
A golden-red Highland cow saunters into the now clean pen, rubbing its forehead against Dottie’s hip. “Oh my god,” I whisper.
“What?” Thomas replies, voice edging toward concern.
“It’s so cute, holy shit,” I continue whispering, my feet moving toward the stall at their own volition. Thomas’s arm slides off my shoulders as I move.
Dottie sees my growing smile and lifts the cow’s head. “This is Fern,” she says. “She’s about five-years-old, and very friendly.”
“I love cows,” I reply. I probably look and sound a little odd at the moment, but I couldn’t care less. I’ve always loved cows. I mean, you can drive a mile outside of townand see a bunch of them at any farm, but there’s something about having one right in front of you to make it even more exciting.
“Didn’t you hear them yesterday when they said they have a cow?” Thomas asks, sliding back up beside me.
I shake my head, my eyes wide as I take in this adorable creature. “No, I was so focused on the emu,” I state. I tentatively reach out my hand as I approach the stall. “Can I pet her?”
“Absolutely,” Dottie says, a smile crossing her face.
I hold my palm out and Fern shoves her head into my palm without hesitation, jerking her head back and forth when I freeze, almost like she’s making me pet her with the motion, rather than me moving my own hand. A giggle bursts from my lips. “Oh my god, she’s so cute I can’t handle it.”
“She likes you,” Dottie says. A nudge at my leg pulls my attention away from Fern. Arson is rubbing his entire body against my legs, nearly shoving me into Thomas at my side.
“Someone’s jealous,” Thomas says with a laugh.
“Oh, buddy, it’s okay,” I croon, removing my hand from Fern to pet Arson. He leans into my touch with his whole body.
“Dave is around here somewhere,” Ron explains. “His stall is here,” he points to the stall across from Fern’s, “but he tends to wander the property.”
“Should we go inside? I can give you a brief tour,” Dottie remarks.
“Sure,” Thomas agrees. I give Fern one final pat on her head, and follow Thomas. His hand moves to rest on the small of my back again as he leans down to murmur in my ear, “Watching you be excited over that Highland cow might have been the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
My cheeks burn. “No, it wasn’t.”
“No, it really was adorable. You got so excited, it made me think of my niece, Lennie, when she sees Arson for the first time in a few weeks. Pure joy.”
I swallow, trying to hide the slight embarrassment. I did get a little over-excited. I can’t help it, though. I love animals, especially cows.
