“I am. Are you swinging by?”
“And bringing a guest if that’s okay.”
“If you have another screaming goat, you can just keep it,” Ryder chimes in, revealing that I’m on speaker phone.
“Hey, you love Gertie,” Macy insists.
“I found her on the roof of our house yesterday,” Ryder says to me. “I almost fell off the ladder trying to get her down.”
I can’t help but laugh as the playful banter continues. Birdie hums from inside the truck, hanging her head out the open window. She’s staring longingly at the house. Whether it’s because she misses her home or because she’s hoping Everleigh will be joining us is anyone’s guess.
“I have an alpaca.”
“An alpaca? Did you find Birdie?” Macy asks, the banter with Ryder coming to an instant halt.
“Yes. Wait—how doyouknow about Birdie?” Macy was away from Emerald Creek for years until just recently. I doubt she’s ever met the alpaca.
“Paps made a big fuss at breakfast this morning. He’s been worried sick about her since he heard she was on the loose. Where did you find her?”
“In Everleigh’s garage.”
“Walter Smalley’s old house,” Ryder adds.
“Ah, that makes sense,” Macy agrees. “Bring her to the ranch. I’ll let Paps know you’re coming.”
“Be there in fifteen.”
“Oh hey, Wyatt?” Macy asks.
“Yeah?”
“Are you still at Everleigh’s?”
“Yep.”
“Can you bring her with you? I need to ask her a favor, and I’d rather do it in person.”
My pulse quickens at the thought of seeing her in those skimpy clothes once more, making me wish I’d lied and said I was already on my way. A man can only endure so much this early in the day.
“She’s busy unpacking,” I say, hoping to be let off the hook.
“If she told you that, she’s lying,” Macy insists. “She’ll put unpacking off as long as she can. Trust me, I know my bestie. Will you grab her please? It’s important.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I say, scrubbing a hand through my hair.
“Tell her Gina baked homemade cinnamon rolls,” Macy says.
“What does that have?—”
A horrific scream echoes through the phone, and I tense. It doesn’t matter how many times I hear that mischievous little goat let out a blood curdling scream. It’s impossible not to stiffen at the sound. The cute little demon could beat out any human in a horror movie screamer audition.
“How did she get in the kitchen?” Ryder says, his tone exasperated.
“Bring Everleigh.” With that final insistence, the call ends. Guess the request is not up for negotiation.
I look back at Birdie. “Can I trust you not to get into any trouble for two minutes?”
Birdie tilts her head, the unicorn hat sliding a bit off kilter. It’s a miracle it survived her escape. I can’t imagine how many miles she’s traveled to get back to Emerald Creek. I adjust her hat before tossing a handful of pellets through the window and jog back to the open garage.
