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"You'll find out when you're my age, Miss run everywhere I go and teach fitness classes all day long and train for a marathon."
"It's not a marathon. But speaking of that, I should stretch before I meet Asher."
"Is he picking you up?" Dani waggles her eyebrows.
The snake video and the fact that Asher and I have agreed to train together has given my sisters the idea that Asher and I are in a relationship. The more I deny it, the more convinced they become. Which is why I didn't even argue when Honey mentioned making a Bigfoot mug for Asher.
"No. I'm meeting him at the trail head because we aren't in a relationship and he's not my boyfriend."
"I know," Dani says. "The others are just trying to get your goat, but I know the truth."
"Thank you."
"Sure. He's your fuck buddy. Don't worry, I don't judge."
"He's not my—" I throw my free hand up in defeat. "You know what? Think whatever you want, I've got a race to win."
Coffee in hand, I walk to the front door, put on my running shoes, and head outside. The morning air is chilly, but it helps me wake up. I set my coffee on the top porch step and almost trip on Barley, who's standing at the bottom of the stairs like he's waiting for me. "What's up?" I ask. "Why are you out of your pen?"
He watches me with his weird eyes. I need to walk around a bit before I stretch, so I pick him up and start toward the pastures and barns. Barley kicks to be free as soon as we get close to the gate that leads into his pasture.
Not wanting to put him down and risk him running off, I carry him into the kitchen.
"Why are you bringing Barley inside?"
"He was out, but as soon as I got near the barns, he started trying to get away from me. When I brought him closer to the house, he calmed right down."
Dani sighs. "He's been a bit of a loner since day one, but yesterday, one of the bigger goats of his group kicked and bit at him. I was hoping it was a one-off thing, but if he's reacting that way to going back to his barn, it's possible he's being bullied."
I pet Barley's soft, furry head. "Bullied? But he's so sweet. You can't let that happen."
She nods. "I'm hoping it'll get better when some of the other goats get re-homed, but until then, there's not much I can do. He's so little and there aren't a lot of safe pasture or barn options for him at the moment."
"Can he hang out with me?"
"I guess, but kids aren't puppies, Clover. Barley will climb on and chew everything to bits, plus he's not house trained."
"I can stick close to him when we're both outside and make sure he doesn't get picked on by the other goats."
"Honey and I will keep an eye out for him too, but he'll be okay. We already have a few people interested in the kids and your yoga classes have helped drum up interest. I bet Barley will get a good home soon."
Barley tucks his head up close to my chest and I hug him a little tighter. "I hope so."
On my way out the door, I grab one of several leashes we keep there, because there's no way I'm going to force Barley to go back in the barn with mean goats.
I don't need the leash while I pace in front of the house three times. Barley stays right by my side. He runs circles around me while I stretch. My knee is not feeling better and I really don't want Asher to know how much it's bothering me. I need him to think he's in danger of losing this race. I need to get inside his head and defeat him before he even starts to run on race day.
After a good stretch, I try running in place, and my knee screams with pain. I definitely worked it too hard yesterday and, even with the knee brace Noah gave me, the pain is intense.
I really hate it when my body lets me down. It doesn't happen often, but I never handle it well.
"We're going to have to call him, Barley."
Barley stops running in circles and presses his warm little body against my calf. He's such a sweet, empathetic animal. It probably hurts him even more to get picked on by his friends, because he's so caring.
"I'm driving to the trail head right now, Empress," Asher answers on the third ring. "Don't bust my balls about being late. You said five AM, and it's only four-forty-five."
"The trail head?" I say, totally improvising. "I thought we were meeting at the gym."
