Page 85 of Surly Sheriff
Rubbished his love.
Cast aside the beautiful life they had created.
Something cold and wet nudged her arm. Rae lifted her head. And looked right into the spotted head of a goat.
“Maa,” the goat said, its breath a blast of fetid air against her face.
“Ahh!” Rae cried out and stumbled to her feet.
Only to stare in horror as a sand-encrusted goat keeled over onto its back, its legs stretched straight up into the air. For amoment she worried that the goat had died, but its stomach moved in a steady rhythm. And she recalled overhearing a conversation at Bella’s Books about fainting goats. A genetic disorder, the poor creatures faint when they get nervous.
The young boy she had noticed earlier raced over. “Come on, Pixy. Get up,” he said, prodding the goat’s side and, lo and behold, the animal flipped back up onto all fours, knocking the kid — the human one — down. The goat moved over the boy, its long, pink tongue slurping over the boy’s face and neck. The boy laughed, and the goat increased its clean-the-little-human efforts.
Rae couldn’t help her own laughter bubble up at the antics of the two.
The boy’s dad ran over and lifted the goat off his son. “Bugger! Enough.”
“Maa-aa,” the goat protested.
The man attached the leash to the goat’s collar, straightened, and faced Rae. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
The pregnant woman joined. “Excuse my boys. They’re uncivilized.”
Lips still curved in a smile, Rae looked at the woman. “No problem. You have a wonderful family.”
The woman’s frown smoothed out, and she nodded, grinning in return. “Yes, I do. I’m Aubrey. And this lug” — she patted her husband’s arm — “is Chance. Our boy is CJ and that one” — she pointed to the goat — “is Pixy.”
Without a second thought, she replied, “I’m Rae.” As the name left her lips, she wanted to kick herself. She needed to work on a new identity. Soon.
CJ tugged on his mom’s hand. “Mommy! I need to pee!”
Aubrey gave Rae a rueful smile. “And that is our cue to leave. Nice meeting you.”
“Yeah.” Rae watched the family hustle across the sand to the public facilities with renewed remorse.
In another life that could’ve been her and Beau with their child and Kismet. The wind kicked up, and the sand whipped against her bare legs. Heart heavy, she turned and left the beach.
It was time to hole up and plan her future.
*
Rae viewed the spacious living area, and a fraction of her melancholy lifted. It was hard to be gloomy when stepping into such a cheerful and sunny space. This place was exactly what she needed. “I’ll take it.”
The realtor grinned. “I thought you might. I prepared the paperwork ahead of time.” She reached into her bag and handed over a sheaf of papers.
Five minutes later, Rae walked the woman out and pulled her mid-sized Honda off the street. Facing the yellow-with-white-trim, two-bedroom house on Morgan Street, a sense of peace settled over her. The outside was as welcoming as the inside.
She placed her hand on her midriff. “We’ll be just fine, little one,” she whispered, and made for the steps leading to the front door.
“Hello there,” a man called out.
Hand to the railing, Rae stiffened and frowned. Schooling her features, she turned. It was the man from the beach a few days ago. He stood on the sidewalk at the edge of her parking bay with his spotted goat on a leash.
Chase? Chuck? Ch-something.
“Maa,” the goat, Pixy, if she remembered correctly, bleated.
“Thought I recognized you. Rae? Right? You the new tenant?” he asked, stepping closer.
