Page 13 of Rocky Mountain Devil
He loaded the goats into the massive trailer then pulled out from the yard and headed over to the homestead, his amusement fading as he prepared himself for whatever he found there.
A night-and-day difference hit as he drove the long approach to the house where he’d grown up. Faded paint had begun to peel off the shutters, and the barns were past that point where they looked weathered and well used. These looked weathered and edging toward falling apart.
Huge potholes greeted him on the drive, along with a nasty crop of wild thistles thriving on either side of the entrance. Another shit job on the to-do list already—he got to deal with noxious weeds as well as break out the tractor and level the road. Maybe call in for some extra road crush.
His father had insisted he wanted to be in charge of the road, but obviously over the summer he’d failed to keep up with what should be a normal maintenance task. If it wasn’t done soon, they were going to end up with damage to their vehicles.
Frustration hit harder. If Ben was going to do a job, Rafe didn’t know why he didn’t do a thorough job of it, considering that’s what he’d always demanded of the boys back in the day when all three of them worked side-by-side.
Rafe noted with some satisfaction his dad’s truck was missing from the yard. Probably hanging out at the coffee shop with the rest of the old timers, bitching about how much life had changed and what hassles their kids were.
The less he saw of his father, the better. He might’ve decided he was going to have a good attitude about a bad situation, but it was decidedly easier to keep from falling into pissed-off frustration when he was nowhere near the man.
Rafe parked by the barn, hurrying toward where the doors stood open. An old ranch truck and trailer they rarely used anymore were backed into position where he least expected it.
He rounded the corner to discover his mom, her tiny frame wrapped in a coverall, attempting to corral some of the lambs into the trailer.
“Hey,” he called out in warning.
Her head snapped up and she jerked back for a moment before offering a smile, fingers tightening in the woolly coat at her feet. “Rafe. I didn’t expect to see you yet.”
He stepped forward to stop the three lambs already loaded from escaping, strong-arming them into place and putting up the low gate that was ready at hand. He raised his voice to be heard over the loud bleating. “I made good time. I figured a nice lazy Sunday afternoon off would be better than hanging out on the highway. What’re you doing?”
“Community fair this afternoon. The Baptist church is running the petting zoo. I promised we’d provide the animals.” Dana glanced away. “Just a few.”
“I don’t care how many. Why’re you out here by yourself?” He scooped up the lamb and placed the noisy creature with its siblings behind the gate. “Where’s Ben?”
She shrugged. “He must’ve forgotten. It’s not a big deal. I can get them there by myself.”
Rafe folded his arms and looked down from his additional inches, feeling a little as if he were the parent and she were the child who hadn’t quite thought this through. “Sure you can. And once you’re there, you can also safely wrangle a half dozen sheep plus whatever else you plan to bring along, all by yourself.”
His mom had the grace to look guilty.
“Especially since there’s going to be a whole lot of kids running around, probably screaming their heads off and wanting to touch. Jumping up and down, rushing the animals—yeah, I can see how it makes perfect sense for one person to do that all by themselves.”
Dana rolled her eyes. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, son.”
“Was I being sarcastic?”
She ignored the question, speaking over her shoulder as she headed into the back of the barn. “I made a commitment, and I’m getting the animals there. And I’m not foolish. Your cousin Karen is meeting me. She’s bringing some horses, and I was going to let her help.”
“Great. Between the three of us we should be able to—”
“Rafe,” she scolded loudly from behind the pen wall. “I don’t expect you to give up your afternoon to help me.”
He could out-stubborn her. “I didn’t really have anything else planned, and as you said, you made a commitment. What else do we need to round up?”
Dana reappeared around the corner leading their old, placid donkey, Homer. “Three or four goats. I asked Allison to drop them off—she should be here soon.”
“I’ve already got them.” He grabbed the donkey’s head rope and guided the beast into position inside the trailer, coming back for a pitchfork to load hay to quiet the animals. “I need to get changed first, though. Even if we’re working with the animals, I doubt everyone at the picnic will appreciate my current state of aroma.”
“There’s time,” his mom assured him. “If we get everything set up by two o’clock, that works. Scoot. I’ll finish pulling everything together.”
Ben forgetting about the commitment he’d made was par for the course. Of all the things Rafe worried about helping his mom with, the fair was an annoyance, nothing more.
He hurried to the long staircase that led to the great room over the garage where he once again hung his hat. His things were still in boxes—he’d moved quickly during a single twenty-four-hour period he’d been back in Rocky at the start of summer. He’d wanted to be close enough that if his mom needed him, he’d be there.
That had been before the whole traveling-all-summer bit had registered.
