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“What time is their supper?” she asked. She hoped that he would let her help so that they would love her more. Although they did already seem pretty fond of her.
“Are you hungry?”
She laughed. “I know you don’t know me, but I’m never so subtle as to express my hunger— or anything else—so obliquely. If I wanted food, I would just ask, but you don’t have to feed me. I have some gorp in my pack.”
His eyes widened. “I don’t know whatgorpis”—he said the word carefully as if he were a little afraid of it— “and I still think we might be able to do better.” Doubt flashed across his face. “At least, I’m willing to try.” He stopped talking, and the moment grew awkward.
“So, goat supper?”
“Oh, yeah. They usually eat around dusk.”
Bummer. It was nowhere near supper time then.
“But I’ve already fed them.”
This confused her.
“They get all their supplements in the morning,” he explained, “and I only do grain for the does when they’re pregnant or milking. Everyone else just gets hay and water.”He motioned to the grass around them. “And fresh greens, of course.”
“You have milking goats?”
He nodded. “Several are nursing right now, and I’m milking a few just for personal use ...” It seemed like he was going to say more, but then he didn’t.
“For personal use, and?” She stood up and brushed off her hands.
“I was going to say that I deliver some to a few families who I think could use it, but then I figured that might sound like bragging.”
Okay, whowasthis guy, and how was he still single? “It doesn’t sound like bragging, and I really want to milk a goat. When do you do that?”
He seemed surprised. “It’s not very exciting.”
“Gunner, I have never milked a goat before. Please.”
He laughed. “Okay, you can help. We do it at six. For now, do you want to go see the kids?”
It took her a few seconds to remember that baby goats were called kids, but when she did, she clapped with excitement.
He laughed. “Right this way.”
She followed him across the pasture and into the barn. Her eyes had just started to adjust to the lighting when they went out the other side of the barn into a tiny pasture full of tiny goats. She gasped. This was the best place she’d ever been. She never wanted to leave. “Where are their mamas?” she asked.
“One is in the barn resting. She’s not feeling so good. The others are in the pasture taking a break.”
“Gunner ...” She looked up at him. “I know it’s really soon to say this, but I am in love.” Then she went and lay down among the baby goats. How had she gone her whole life without this?
They crawled all over her, stepping in her hair, on her cheek, on her stomach. One of them started nibbling on her skirt. She couldn’t stop giggling. What spectacular little creatures.
Gunner was so quiet that she sat up to see if he’d left. The baby goat on her chest flopped off, but she caught him. Gunner was still there, staring at her.
“Do you breed the goats?”
He shook his head. “These mamas came to me pregnant.”
“How do you keep the others from getting pregnant? I saw some male goats out there.”
He nodded. “When I get a buck, I have him neutered immediately. Much to his dismay.”
“I’ve never heard of that,” she admitted.
