Page 114 of The Worst Possible Plan

Eric sighed. “Bandit.”

The goat kept going without even a slight hesitation. If anything, his pace became just a little more confident, as though being specifically addressed by name confirmed he was on exactly the right path.

“I know you can hear me.”

Bandit looked over one shoulder, made direct eye contact, and then deliberately turned his head forward again, as though choosing crime despite fully understanding the consequences. Then he ran faster, tiny legs but maximum commitment.

I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my wine. I caught the glass just in time, which felt like my greatest physical achievement of the day, considering I’d recently attempted grand theft livestock.

Eric pointed after the goat. “You’re encouraging him.”

“I absolutely am.” I took another sip of wine. “I think he enjoys having hobbies.” Productive hobbies weren’t for everyone. Some people knitted. Some painted landscapes. Bandit’s passion involved accumulating stolen accessories one glove at a time.

Eric gave me a look. “Stealing isn’t a hobby.”

“For Bandit, I think it might actually qualify as a lifestyle.” At this point I was fairly certain he’d list “petty criminal” under special skills if goats had résumés.

Eric shook his head while walking after the goat with the patient resignation of a man who’d somehow accepted that this was simply how his evening was going to unfold. There wasn’t an ounce of real annoyance in the way he moved, just quiet acceptance that this tiny horned menace now lived on his property and had no intention whatsoever of respecting personal boundaries or workplace etiquette.

Halfway there, the little donkey wandered over. Ears twitching curiously, he watched Eric for a long thoughtful moment as though carefully evaluating the situation before deciding whether further involvement was required.

He sniffed Eric’s back, conducting a complete donkey-approved assessment.

Then, without the slightest warning, he headbutted him squarely in the backside.

Eric stumbled forward one step. He caught himself immediately, turned slowly toward the donkey, and stared at him in complete disbelief while the donkey blinked back with such spectacular innocence that, if I’d been on a jury, I’d have acquitted him on the spot. Even I almost believed it hadn’t happened. Almost.

I burst into another fit of laughter, the kind that started somewhere deep in my stomach and refused to leave, bubbling out before I had any chance of pretending to be a dignified adult.

Eric straightened with the resigned patience of a man who already knew exactly which four-legged suspect was responsible before he’d even completed the turn. “You stop that. You don’t headbutt the guy who just saved you.”

The donkey looked back, his ears forward and eyes wide. His expression remained utterly angelic.

Then, Bandit came wandering back. He snatched up the other glove and trotted proudly away with his newest prize swinging from his mouth.

I laughed even harder. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, and I had to set my wineglass down on the little table beside me before I accidentally watered the porch instead of the flowers.

“I’m being overthrown by livestock.” Eric looked around the pasture as though trying to identify which member of the rebellion he’d lost control of first. Frankly, I thought he’d already lost the entire organization.

“You kind of deserve it.” I shrugged innocently. “You can’t just move in and expect to become management overnight. Trust has to be earned.”

“Oh?”

“You arrested their lawyer.” I hooked a thumb at myself. “They’re still processing the betrayal.”

He looked over at me, and the corner of his mouth twitched despite his obvious attempt to remain serious. “You were representing them?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

“I must’ve missed that during processing,” commented Eric.

“I think Deputy Jenna did too.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck before reaching down to scratch the donkey between his ears. His big hand disappeared into the shaggy fur, and the entire movement looked so natural it was obvious he’d been around animals long before today.

The little guy leaned happily into it. His eyes drifted half closed, and he let out a tiny contented sigh.

“You know…” I said, studying him for another second. The more I watched him, the more certain I became. Some names just belonged to certain faces. Like meeting someone named Steve who clearly looked like a Steve. This little donkey absolutely had Douglas energy.