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Valerie smiled to herself as she headed home. It wasn’t a terrible trip, after all. She was happy she was able to help Damon get back to the house and joke around with Patti.
Back at the farm, Valerie crunched over snow to find Martha. She was talking to Gus while spreading straw in the rabbit shed. The covered, heavy mesh outside pen was closed off on these colder months, so the rabbits were kept inside the roomy shed with plenty of ramps and small plexiglass windows to allow sunshine in.
“Welcome back.” Martha was still focused on the work in front of her, but a smile played on her mouth as she said, “That took longer than expected. Should I assume you two sat down and caught up?”
“Something like that,” Valerie said dryly and told Martha about the craziness of the last forty-five minutes. Valerie yawned, the jet lag and early morning catching up with her. “I’m glad they didn’t want me to aid and abet in getting him to the doctor. I’m tired.”
“I’m glad they didn’t either. We still have work to do.” Martha smiled cheerily and headed out. Valerie considered pushing her into a snowbank. Or hiding herself in one. Martha couldn’t torture her if she was frozen. Though, knowing the woman, Valerie wouldn’t be surprised if she would drag a frozen person inside, give them some horrible herb elixir while they thawed out next to the woodstove, and then put them to work again.
“Before we finish the work, though, follow me. I want to show you something.” Martha’s face lit up with delight when she glanced back, and Valerie followed her, wondering and somewhat worried about whatever was making Martha so happy. The woman would probably consider an alien spaceship landing in the backyard exciting, while Valerie—and anyone relatively sane—would opt for terrifying.
Thankfully, there was a trail in the snow where Martha had walked several times since the last snowfall and it was packed down enough so that the trek wasn’t arduous. Martha led Valerie to a small barn attached to a pen with a tall, wiry fence and what looked like several large cat trees inside. This must be the goat pen. The smells of fresh hay and animal greeted her as they stepped inside.
In the small barn, Martha pushed a short gate open—an extra precaution for the crafty goats, Valerie imagined—and motioned her inside. Several goats were lying down or chewing on their feed. They glanced at the newcomer but didn’t find her threatening enough to bother moving for. A couple wandered over and sniffed at Martha’s hands and the pockets of her snow pants.
“Here, take you glove off.” Martha waved Valerie up to a particularly fat goat.
Martha reached out and took her hand, pressing it against the goat’s wide stomach. Valerie started to frown, but when she felt something against her hand, she realized what she was getting to experience. This goat would be a mother soon. What may have been a kick pushed the goat’s stomach near Valerie’s hand, and she shared a smile with her aunt.
“This is amazing. When is she due?” Valerie put her glove back on and stroked the mama goat’s back.
“In about three weeks.” Martha looked lovingly at the animal whose nose was down as she fed out of a large, thick rubber bin. “It was a complete accident. I boarded a couple of goats for a friend who was moving, and one of her young males got out. I still don’t know how, given that I had them in a pen with a fence over the top as well. Still, with love, where there’s a will, there’s a way.” This time she was looking at Valerie as if she were trying to convey some message to her with this story. Valerie wasn’t about to let her thoughts go to Damon. After all, she had no plans to remain in this place, and he did. To distract herself, she turned her gaze to the others.
“So they’re all girls?”
“Yep, my ladies. The billy goats are too annoying for me to keep any around.”
“Like most males,” Valerie muttered. Martha laughed.
Stepping out of the gate and carefully latching it, Martha said, “She loves rubs and pats, so stay here as long as you’d like. When you’re done, would you please refill their water troughs? I have hoses with heat tape wrapped around them in the corner. Oh, and the chickens share this barn, so please give them some feed.” She gestured toward the far side of the small barn where the chicken coop was separated from the goat area and insulated boxes with heat lamps provided warmth and comfort during the long, cold days. A small opening about the size of a doggy door still allowed them to go out into the wire-enclosed outdoor area to stretch their legs, should they want frostbite.
Valerie nodded. She turned back and let her gaze roam over the gentled pygmy goats. Their cute little faces, some black and white, others tan, were precious to watch as they nibbled at hay and each other. They had intelligent eyes. One peeked her head out from under the barn roof into the pen area, and a flurry of snow from the roof driven by the wind fluttered down onto her nose. The goat kicked up her heels and danced around, half rearing, half kicking as she did so. Another goat got excited by her friend’s actions and joined her, hopping along until they ran into each other and settled down, eating together as if they hadn’t just been acting like crazy little kids. Valerie smiled. They were precious little souls. She remembered her aunt telling her when she was little that every life, no matter how small and supposedly inconsequential, should be treated with kindness. She’d said that while lifting a caterpillar from the road to a leaf.
Sadness brushed the smile from her face. How far she’d come from her childhood. She had thought that getting away from this place would turn her into the person she wanted to be. Now she wasn’t so sure. Not that she’d ever hurt anything, but she hadn’t helped humans or animals when she had the resources to.
Wow, I look at a couple of goats and I’m an emotional mess. She sighed to herself at the thought. It was as if the mother goat was sharing her surging hormones. Valerie vowed to stay away from this barn, though she did find the hose and turned it on to feed water into the two small water troughs.
Outside, the wind was picking up and the thick clouds above promised snow. She knew the chores weren’t done and once again wondered how Martha did it all by herself every day. Valerie was tired and wanted to go inside, and this was only her first day doing this work.
As the wind whipped faster, she left the barn, heaving her weight against the door to get it to close as the wind tried to wrench it from her grip.
Having to push her way through knee-deep snow with wind slapping her face was not Valerie’s idea of a day job, but Martha didn’t seem to notice as she waved her over to see the sheep. The two stood together outside their barn in the pen, munching on whatever food Martha had put into a heavy-duty feed bin, their wool so springy and thick they looked like balls with stick legs.
“I’m excited to get the animals ready for the Nativity. The sheep especially should have their halters put on since it’s been so long.” Martha reached over the fence to pat one of the fluffy creatures.
“I hope you don’t expect me to put a halter on the chickens.”
Martha grinned. “Why? Are you scared?”
“That rooster looked mean.”
“He’ll only spur you if you anger him. Just don’t anger him.”
“Oh, great. So far, I’ve been tormented by your donkey, had to practically get down on my knees and beg to get your pony to even walk with me, and now you think I can make it without angering the grumpy chicken? Great. What next? You have a raptor hanging out in the tool shed that you’d like me to tame?”
Martha lifted a hand and opened her mouth. “Actually—”
“That’s it, I’m out of here.” Valerie whirled away from the pen. She was fairly certain that she and Martha had given feed and water to all the critters, and some of them had gotten new bedding, so she didn’t feel guilty heading for the house.
“Chicken,” Martha called.
“Flapping my wings as I run away.”