“Okay, be safe.”
“I will. Thanks.” I hang up the phone.
That was strange. He called to check on me, and it’s rather domestic of him.
I glance at the phone. It is nine o’clock at night. I’m tired, and I wanna go home and soak in that big bathtub, but I need to put the sheep in until I can get rid of that coyote.
I get the group of sheep into the barn—there are only one hundred pairs here, and my dad is letting me use a big old straw shed as a lambing barn—but now I have to go find my goats.
I walk out to my pickup to grab my spotlight from underneath the seat. Just as I pull it out, headlights shine over the rise of the gravel road.
This can’t be good.
Hopefully, it’s someone I know, but I also really don’t enjoy being out in the dark alone with who knows who driving toward me.
I slide my hand into the truck, pulling my rifle a little bit closer. I keep it in the truck for coyotes if they’re brave enough to be here when I get here.
The truck rumbles to a stop behind mine. The lights shut off when the door opens, and the dome light comes on.
Zane steps out and walks over to stand in front of me.
He glances at the open door of the pickup with the rifle sitting within arm’s reach. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I shake my head. “Normally, other people don’t come up here, so you had me a little nervous when you pulled in.”
Zane frowns at me. “I was worried about you.”
“Very nice of you to be concerned.”
“I found your goats,” he says helpfully.
“Really?” I ask. “Where?”
“They’re back on the county road. They were standing on the yellow line when I was turning into the driveway. I didn’t want to send my dogs after them because they tend to bite smaller things, and they don’t have soft mouths.”
“Okay, well, I’ll probably run down there on the four-wheeler with Chip and try to run them back up here.”
“That sounds good. You won’t need my dogs, right?”
“No, Chip will do it. He’s good with them.”
Chip yips from his spot, sitting on the four-wheeler seat, paws resting on the handlebars.
Zane smirks at the dog. “I’ll come with you and see if I can help. But just fair warning: I’ll probably be in the way.”
It almost seems like he’s looking for affirmation, like he wants me to want him to come with me.
“Help would be awesome. These goats have turned out to be an absolute pain.”
“I can at least hold one or block a gap. Sometimes, I can be a little useful.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I walk over to the four-wheeler and climb on. Zane climbs on behind me, straddling the seat and pushing me forward. Our legs are pressed against each other, and I’m practically sitting on top of him.
It’s like the guy’s never gotten on a four-wheeler with someone else before. Normal people sit on the back, either facing backward or pointing both legs to the side. Apparently, not Zane. He likes to get cozy with the driver.
Chip is getting squished between me and the handlebars, so I have to settle back against Zane.
