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Chapter 9: Goat Feint
They had looked everywhereand asked every one they could in the village, twice over. Most, if they had seen the goat at all, had seen it when it was still on the lead, perfectly safe. No one had noticed a little white goat chewing on anything nearby, wandering about unattended.
The poor little thing had run off. Chewed through its restraints and thought it knew what to do with its first taste of freedom.
Every time she looked to Liam, she fumbled to say anything she hadn’t already said, desperation in her eyes she couldn't put into words. What if it ran into a road and got hit or run over by a carriage too loud and large to notice the dumb little thing? What if it teased a horse and was kicked over? What if it finally lived up its name and fainted in a ditch somewhere, and some animal thought it would make a tasty snack?
That awful thought kept stopping her in the street, and she would remain in one spot several moments until she blinked herself back into the moment, watching Liam methodically sweep through the area until he returned to her side.
As she wandered close behind him, she tried terribly hard not to compare herself to a goat. And also not be jealous of that goat when Liam eventually rescued it, carrying it in those secure arms of his, in full appreciation of his dashing heroism and a low angle on his sharp cheekbones. The goat was probably far more appreciative of the man than she was.
She had been about to turn down another corner, when Liam bent to pluck something from a nearby cart wheel. He held it between his fingers a moment, frowning at the tuft of white fur.
Diane’s eyes widened as comprehension dawned on her.
“Oh, no,” she gasped.
Before she could even start to voice the dreaded thought that was piecing itself together, Liam held up a hand, terminally stoic expression in place.
“It’s getting dark. We can keep looking in the morning, he can’t have wandered off too far,” Liam said quickly, laying out a whole little plan just as Diane was about to dissolve in her fretting. She saw how he tried to discard the fur out of her notice, how he stepped between her and the cart.
Diane put her hand on his arm, nodding as she tried to push her fears down. She gave his arm a squeeze in the attempt to convey some earnest appreciation as they started towards the inn.
She hadn’t realized how much the day had tired her until she found herself blinking awake again, her cheek pressed to Liam’s shoulder. The gentle rocking of their slow gait nearly lulled her to sleep.
Now they were stopped, and Liam was carefully detaching her from his side.
“It’s just upstairs,” he murmured, glancing to the building beside them.
Diane nodded, rubbing the strain in her neck as she removed herself from Liam’s perfectly muscled shoulder. A decent pillow, he was not.
They entered the inn, and she waited a few moments, trying not to fall asleep standing as Liam spoke with the clerk. It seemed to last an eternity before he was by her side, his hand gently against her back to guide her away from the wall she had started to cling to.
He was looking at her, that same quiet concern he always had in his eyes.
“Do you think we’ll actually find him tomorrow?” Diane blurted out, as unbidden as a yawn.
Liam remained silent as he took in her question. His efforts to shield her from what he’d found under the cart wheel had been futile.
His ever impassive face was again as unreadable in the low light as it was during the day. “I think a great many animals have white fur,” he offered quietly after several minutes.
“What if we don’t find him?”
“Then he’ll be happy, running free around the countryside.”
“Do you think he can take care of himself?”
