“You should visit New York,” I say. “It’s a great place. Great food.”
“So I’ve heard,” Noah says. I wait as he closes the door, then we head toward the goats together. “Do you think you’ll stick around there?” he asks. “For work?”
“I hope not,” I say. “I mean, I loved it for school. And my parents are still in White Plains. But…I don’t know. It’s so busy. I think I’ll be happier somewhere smaller.”
“Yeah? Like where?”
“My top choice is a hospital in Charlotte—Northvale General. It’s close to Alec and Evie, and they have a PICU nurse residency program that’s one of the best in the country. The program is super competitive,” I add, “and I probably would have heard by now if I got in. But…I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get lucky and someone else will drop out to make room for me.”
“That’s a great hospital,” Noah says, something in his tone giving me pause. He sounds like he’s speaking from personal experience.
“You know it?”
We stop in front of a large stall with half a dozen goats inside. They’re all crowded around the door, looking at us like they fully expect us to have pockets full of treats. I’m suddenly sorry I didn’t bring anything to give them.
“I lived in Charlotte for a while,” Noah says. “So I know the area pretty well.”
I wait, expecting him to add something more. To tell me that’s where his family is from or where he went to school. Charlotte isn’t far from here, so it wouldn’t be that unusual. But to mention the hospital specifically feels odd. Does he know it’s a good hospital because someone was sick? Or becausehewas sick?
“Is that where you grew up?” I finally ask when he doesn’t add anything else.
“No,” Noah says. “I grew up just north of Asheville.”
“Oh. That’s not too far.”
I wait again, leaving the door wide open for Noah to volunteer more information, but then he steps inside the goat pen, and I can tell we’re leaving the topic of Charlotte behind us.
I can’t call it annoying that he’s so obviously withholding information. It’s not like I’m entitled to any of his secrets. But the fact that hehassecrets makes me insatiably curious, and it takes everything in me to keep myself from asking more questions.
At least until I see him pick up the tiniest goat I’ve ever seen in my life.
Once I see Noah cradling her against his chest, I’m not thinking about his secrets at all. The goat leans up and nuzzles his beard, then lets out a tinymeh-eh-eh-eh.He scratches under her chin with his free hand. “That’s a sweet baby,” he whispers. “You’re such a good girl.”
The words are obviously not meant for me, but heat pools in my belly anyway. He’s being so gentle, so tender with her. It’s a side of Noah I haven’t seen before—and I’m not sure I could have imagined it had I tried. But here we are.
Swooning over a large man holding a tiny goat was not on my Christmas bingo card this year, but I’m about ready to write it in over every single space. Because honestly, what else could possibly compare to this?
“You want to hold her?” he asks, though he doesn’t look particularly excited about giving her up.
It’s a toss-up. Watchinghimhold a baby goat is an experience that might actually rival holding one myself. To see someone so broad and strong and masculine be so gentle—it’s the very best kind of drug.
Still, I don’t stop him when he lowers the coal-black newborn into my arms. She settles right in like she was born to be held like this, then leans up and nuzzles my neck with her nose.
“Oh, my gosh,” I whisper. “Could she be any more perfect?”
Noah steps closer and scratches the top of her head. “She’s the third one born since I’ve been here, but it still feels like a miracle every time I see it happen. It’s hard not to love them when they’re this tiny and new.”
“That feeling was almost enough to make me do labor and delivery instead of PICU,” I say. “It’s pretty amazing when it’s people too.”
He scratches the newborn under her chin. “I bet goats are easier patients.”
I laugh. “No birth plans and no stressed-out dads-to-be. I think you’re probably right about that.”
“Have you thought of a name yet?” a voice asks from somewhere behind me. I turn to see a blond woman walking toward us from the opposite end of the barn. She’s wearing a Stonebrook Farm jacket, jeans, and thick rubber boots.
“Not yet,” Noah says to the woman, then he looks down at me. “This is Kelly, the farm manager here at Stonebrook. Kelly, this is Megan. She’s who Olivia hired to keep an eye on the office while everyone is in Italy.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kelly says. “Olivia told me you’d be here. I’ve been meaning to stop by and say hello, but with all this weather, I haven’t had the time. It’s a lot of workweatherproofing a farm. You’re connected to the family, right? Someone’s cousin? Or…sister, maybe?”
