Page 14 of The Road Back to Us

Fourteen

Cole

“Try cutting it at a forty-five-degree angle, and it should slide right in,” I said to Jeremy, one of my new employees.

He’d been on the job with us for a week and was still struggling with the basics, but he was the grandson of my mother’s best friend, so I agreed to bring him on. He didn’t know the difference between a Phillips and a flathead screwdriver, but at least he wasn’t afraid of heights and did alright on the scaffolding.

He nodded, walking off with the board that he would likely fuck up and call me to fix in a few minutes. I shoved a hand through my hair and looked around, admiring the work that we’d gotten done last week. It was an old house that had been abandoned when I was a kid and left to rot. The town recently got in touch with the family, and they agreed to sell it to a local investor who wanted to flip it.

We had been working on it for almost a month, having gutted the entire house and corrected structural issues to ensure it would be safe for whoever purchased it. Now that all the hard work was done, we were able to start on the fun part: making it not only functional but beautiful.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, glancing at my mom’s name on the caller ID.

“Hey,” I answered. “Everything okay?”

“Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you?”

“It doesn’t, but I also know that you’ve been by yourself with Chloe for three hours and haven’t called before now—which means things are either going super good, and she’s down for a nap, or...” I let my thoughts trail as I heard my mom laugh on the other side.

“Nap? What’s a nap? This child doesn’t sleep no matter what I do.”

I chuckled as I shook my head.

“Well, if she hasn’t napped then that means she’s currently throwing a fit about something, and it must be pretty big if you called me...”

“It’s a goat.”

“What?” I frowned, arching an eyebrow in confusion. “What’s a goat?”

“The fit she’s throwing is over a goat.”

“Like a goat on TV? Or is she trying to find one of her stuffies? I don’t think she even has a goat stuffie.”

“Nope. A real goat.”

“Okay,” I said hesitantly. “I’ll bite. Why is she throwing a fit over a real goat?”

“Well,” my mother replied slowly with a hint of amusement in her voice. “I needed to run into town to pick up a few things for dinner, and thought maybe the drive would help her fall asleep. When we got to the store, she was wide awake. I figured I could be quick and get in and out before any tantrums could start. She seemed fine...”

“But?”

“But Ol’ Man Stampson was having a pet adoption in front of the store.”

I tipped my head back, closed my eyes, and groaned. Of course he was.

“I tried to steer her away from them, Cole, I swear. She’s stronger than she looks. Once she saw them, she was obsessed. She dragged me over and begged until I let her pet one. Once she touched it...”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that when you get home, you’ll have to figure out where Rufus is going to live.”

“Rufus?”

“Yep. That’s the name she insisted she needed.”

“It’s a girl goat?”

“That’s what Mr. Stampson said. She’s ten weeks old and actually pretty cute, even if she tried to eat my blanket on the way home from the store.”