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“It’s got to nurse,” he replied. For a moment, they stood at peace with each other, watching the foal nuzzle under his mom’s front legs.
“Wrong end, dude,” Goldie said.
“Shh,” Paul hissed at her.
Finally, the foal goat turned around and danced from foot to foot as it found the teat. Moira mimicked it, dancing in place. “Yes!”
“It’s a boy,” Kathleen whispered.
“And he’s got legs,” Paul added.
“How can you tell that from two steps?” Goldie asked, but she could see it.
“Did I miss it?” Aiden asked, jogging in and wrapping around her.
“Yes,” she replied.
Aiden cursed and examined the little foal.
“They were catching the killer,” Aiden said.
“What killer?” Moira asked, looking terrified.
“In his novel,” Goldie said with a roll of her eyes. She turned in his arms and kissed his jaw and the soft nap of his beard. “I called you four times to come to the barn, so don’t blame me.”
When Aiden was writing, nothing else registered.
He kissed the side of her neck, and she whispered, mindful of the strangers in the room, “Even your wolf ignored me.”
Aiden rocked her gently. “He likes the chase scenes.”
“What will you name him?” Kathleen asked, staring at Goldie.
“Me?”
“Your idea,” Paul said simply.
Wordlessly, she looked at Aiden, who pressed his lips together.
“You already came up with it,” she said, squinting at his face as his wolf protested its innocence.
“It’s your horse,” he said.
“You’re the words of the outfit, remember?”
His lips twisted as he tried not to say anything.
“Out with it!”
“Okay fine. There’s only one thing you can name the son of Lady of the Lake.”
Moira gasped. “Excalibur.”
“Exactly,” Aiden said.
Goldie turned back to the horse. “It’s perfect.”
“Not bad, Brennan,” Paul murmured. They swayed toward each other before Paul blinked and stood up. “Well, let’s let them bond in peace, everybody. Show’s over.”
