I tug the rope and she looks me square in the eyes and keels over sideways.
“Fainting? Seriously, Jenny?” I ask, walking toward her to lift her limp body off the grass.
“She’s dead!” one kid screams.
“She’s napping!” another shouts.
I lean over Jenny, place my arms around her waist, just below her arms, lifting her off the grass like I’ve done with hundreds of goats in my lifetime.
She startles, stands, and butts me right in the chest. I go flying backward, losing hold of the rope. Jenny darts away, frolicking with the joy of an escaped convict, kicking her back legs high, changing direction mid-air, and bouncing sideways.
The kids freak out, cheering and shouting louder than ever. It’s full-blown mayhem behind the school gates.
Jenny pauses, eyeing me and Greyson in a high-stakes game of stare-off. She’s watching us to see who will crack first. I stand and brush myself off. Doubling down on my resolve to catch her once and for all.
She rears her head back and huffs out a loud snort.
Greyson hands me the apple and I hold it just out of Jenny’s reach.
“Come on, girl. I know you want this,” I say to Jenny.
She ignores me, turning her head.
“Classic,” Greyson mutters. “Playing hard to get.”
I take slow measured steps in Jenny’s direction. She narrows her eyes, lowering her head slightly.
Greyson rattles the bag. She makes her fatal mistake, turning to look at him, and I pounce on the rope with my boot and then grab it before she can bolt away.
She turns her head toward the apple as if she deserves an award for today’s performance.
“Sorry, girl,” I say. “Maybe next time.”
With the rope firmly in hand, I lead her toward the brush truck.
Jenny’s owner shows up, shouting her name. “Jenny! You little menace!” She looks up at me and Greyson. “Thank you so much. She’s a little houdini, this one.”
I hand the rope and apple over to Sally. Jenny’s goatish gaze follows the apple.
“Aw, nah, missy. You ain’t gettin’ a bite of this,” Sally scolds.
I smile. My sentiments exactly.
Principal Bearden walks over and thanks us. Her eyes light up. “I heard Carli Buckner interviewed for that new inspector position,” she says by way of usual town gossip. “Hope she gets it—she deserves a solid break and we could use a woman like her.”
I nod, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t give away at least one of the hundred thoughts and feelings I have about Carli and the fire inspector position.
Back at the station, I log the call.
Greyson gives me a sideways look. “You okay? You’ve been off today.”
I look up from the paperwork and study my friend and coworker. He never misses anything.
A part of me wishes I could tell him about the captain position, but I promised not to until I’m given clearance.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Too much rain. Too much mud. Too much goat.”
Greyson actually laughs. “Well, have a good rest of your day off.”
