The goat’s outright demonic eyes followed him.
“You just had to get married on a farm, huh?” I asked, looking at the entire herd of goats milling around the big open barn and paddock that were serving as Seth’s wedding venue. Most of them were peacefully nibbling on the grass, but some of them were clearly plotting more nefarious activities.
“I’m a farmboy,” Seth said. “Besides, Mark picked the venue. I’m not to blame here.”
“Uh huh,” I said, trying to get a head count. Somewhere between fifteen and twenty, I guessed. Every time I thought I’d gotten them all, another one appeared out of nowhere.
“You stop that,” Seth bellowed, tossing his wedding cape over his shoulder and marching toward a goat who was making a snack out of the decorative apples piled around the cider stand.
The goat bounced off with an apple in its mouth.
Something ran into my shin, and I looked down to see a small white and brown goat glaring up at me. It was the only one who had a collar, which I assumed meant it was the ringleader.
Was that how goats worked? Seth was the farmboy, not me. I’d fed a few chickens with him in my time, but goats were outside of my wheelhouse.
“You can go around,” I said, not really expecting it to understand.
The goat headbutted me again.
“Wes and Andre are getting the pickup, but the owner’s out of town. We’ll have to herd them ourselves.”
“Do I look like a sheepdog to you?” I asked.
Seth looked me up and down, considering.
“Kinda,” he said eventually. “You’ve got the puppy eyes.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Ask a stupid question…
Okay. Fifteen or twenty goats to catch.
That didn’t sound so bad. The one at my feet clearly wasn’t scared of me, maybe we could just walk up to them and grab them?
The little goat headbutted me again.
“Ow.” I glared down at it, pointing a finger. “You quit that or you’re gloves, buddy.”
The goat didn’t react.
“They don’t know fear,” Seth said ominously.
I looked around at the scattered goats again, watching one of them run off with a sprig of rye grass that was serving as one of the wedding decorations and hoping Seth wouldn’t see it.
I sighed. He deserved a perfect wedding. Or at least, as perfect as we could salvage this one into being.
Even if that meant I had to herd goats.
“Well,” I said, looking up at the grey clouds hovering over us as the run-down pickup Wes and Andre had gone for appeared in the distance. “At least it’s not—”
A roll of thunder interrupted me before I could sayraining.
* * *
My shoes squelched.
They just… squelched. Constantly. Every time I moved. The rain had started the moment Wes and Andre pulled up and hadn’t stopped since, leaving the grass a muddy, slippery mess.
There were still half a dozen goats loose, and so far I’d been bitten, headbutted, chased, tripped, and almost peed on.
