Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
After giving them sufficient attention, the boys on the other side all came when I walked over. I smiled at the sight of them in their pool noodles—Leonardo DiCapriGoat’s were messy and scratched, missing teeny tiny little chunks of foam, and I just knew that it was because of Winston using them as his scratching posts.
“Oh, I’m going to miss you dumbarses,” I whispered, straightening up Ryan Goatling’s orange pool noodle horn protector. “You be good for Esme, you hear? Stop eating her flowers.” I looked back at Vincent for that one. “That means you, you big lout.”
He huffed as if he understood me.
Maybe he did.
Ryan Goatling bit down on my sleeve, and I glared at him, then tapped his nose. “Get off. Now. That’s not a snack, you idiot.”
He chomped harder.
I bopped the end of his nose, and in his surprise, he released the coat sleeve, and I took a step or two back.
“Goatzart, you little wanker!”
I jerked my head up to look in the direction of Max’s shout, barely stifling a giggle, and caught a solid glimpse of the torch light flashing as if the holder were running.
My suspicions were confirmed a second later when a goat-ish shape bolted past the door, swiftly followed by Max running.
Oh, dear.
Goatzart was not co-operating tonight.
Giggling, I ran outside to the edge of the field and leaned over the fence. “Do you need a hand?”
“He won’t go in, the little tosspot!”
“Hang on!” I climbed the fence and jumped into the field. Thank God Max had turned the barn light on—it was my only source of visibility until Goatzart headed my way and so did the torchlight.
“Go to the right and we’ll try to corral him in!”
“Okay!” I did as I was told, shuffling to the right, and after two or three escapes, we managed to force him towards the barn.
Until he did an about-turn.
Right into me.
“Ooft!” I grunted, hitting the ground. The wind was almost knocked out of me, and I immediately wrapped my arm around my stomach.
“Oh, shit! Ellie, are you okay?” Max flashed the light in my direction, almost blinding me.
“Get that little fucker inside!” I said, pointing towards the goat. He was already going for the barn after apparently letting me know just how much he disliked me and my intervention. “Max! For God’s sake!”
Max darted across the field towards the wayward goat and somehow managed to corral him back into the barn and shove the door shut. He leant against it and shoved the bolt across, then did the same in two other spots on the door before bending down and grabbing something. The clink of a big padlock cut through the duskiness, and I squinted in time to see him yank on the door a few times, only to be unable to open it.
Well, thank God for that.
“Hang on.” The light bobbed as Max jogged back over to me, and I smiled up at him. I was almost certain it was more of a grimace than anything else, but at least I’d tried.
In my defence, I was probably sitting in a great pile of goat shit.
If you could smile while doing that… You were a better person than me, that was for sure.
“You’re blinding me. Do you mind?” I winced and tilted my face away from the bright beam of light from the torch.
“Oh, shit, sorry.” He moved the torch’s glare away from my line of vision while still keeping me illuminated and held out his hand. “Do you know you’re about an inch away from a pile of goat shit?”
I nodded, putting my hand in his. “That’s better than I’d assumed it was. Thank you,” I added as he pulled me to my feet.
I looked back.
He was right.
I really was that close to sitting in goat poop.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
“Ugh. That’s better.” I brushed my hands over his coat, making him frown. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“That’s my coat,” he muttered.
“Why do you think I’m using it instead of my leggings?” I laughed, reaching over to extract the torch from his grip. “Thank you. I don’t want to get goat poop on my boots right before I leave. If I don’t pack them tonight, I’ll forget, and I don’t want to have to leave them in my car covered in poop.”
I turned away and headed for the fence so I could hop it and escape the goat poop. Hopefully—it really was a crapshoot around here given the fact Esme walked them—so I jumped it with a prayer to whichever God happened to be listening to me at that moment and looked down at my feet.
No poop.
Hurrah!
“I can’t see anything!” Max shouted in my direction.
Oh, blinking heck.
I turned the torch back in his direction and illuminated his general vicinity and waited for him to join me on the other side of the fence. “Thanks for helping me up. I was really hoping I wasn’t sitting in poo. I’ve done that enough here.”