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“I know I do,” Adalynn confessed easily. The goats were all
outside, but she still called to them. “You hear that? Timmy?
Tuna? Tammy? Tina?” They’d gone with T names for the
goats, and they were about as unlikely names for animals as
could exist. It sounded hilarious when Adalynn called them
like that, and as Cassia scooped out another bale, she burst into
laughter and had to set it down before she dropped the thing
on herself.
Not one of the goats came. They stayed out in the enclosed
pasture area that was fenced off, completely ignoring them.
Cassia brushed her arm over her forehead, wiping away
beads of sweat. Summertime in South Carolina wasn’t a good
time to be doing things like this. It was just about hot enough
to fry an egg on the pavement—which she’d always wanted to
try, just to see if it was possible. She felt like it might be
possible to fry an egg on her own forehead or overheated
chest.
“We really need to get a dog or a cat or something to seem
like normal people,” Cassia said. Not that she minded being
not normal. She was actually just fine with being a little
quirky. “If we keep go
ing this way, we’re going to end up
being two crazy old ladies on a farm that’s not really a farm,
living in a house that isn’t symmetrical because it only has one
turret.”
“Just two crazy old ladies?” Adalynn struggled to hide her
grin.
“Well, if you want to get more animals, I’m all for it, as
long as they’re of the feline or canine variety.”
“What about sheep?”
