by Kishan Paul
He found her on the other side of the barn a few minutes later, milking the black-furred goat with red and blue striped antlers. It chowed down from a trench of feed while Leanna pulled milk from her udders into one of the clean pails. After locating a stool, Eddie positioned it beside her and lowered himself to her level. He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and watched her work. “When I asked you to keep an eye on them, I didn’t mean for you to quit your job, move in, and become the Goat Whisperer. Before you tell me it’s all about milking goats and making cheese, I don’t believe you.”
A steady stream of white fell from the goat’s teats into the bucket as she worked. “What’s not to believe? Goats are our friends, and they are pretty damn adorable.”
A group of the aforementioned adorables grazed a few yards away. One of which managed to simultaneously eat grass while pellets dropped from its ass. “If you put them in a pot and call them mutton, I might find them more appealing.” He moved his head right before the stream of milk she aimed in his direction hit his face.
“Not an option, dumbass. These guys are part of the family.” She leaned over and pointed at the group. “The one with red horns and beard is Joey. He’s a player. And the one over there, with the purple antlers, is Rachael.” Leanna jabbed him with her elbow. “She’s our sexual deviant.”
He scrunched his face, praying she didn’t expand on the matter.
“And this is our sweet Monica.” She ran her hand over the one in front of her. “The quiet matriarch of the band.”
She pointed in the direction where three babies played. “Those kids are Monica’s babies. We were all there when they were born. Jay named them: Wolverine, Rogue, and BP for Black Panther.”
He pointed at Leanna’s trimmed unpainted nails as they worked the udders. “Still not understanding why you’d give up the extensions and manicures for this.”
She chuckled. “The truth?”
“You’ve just conveyed the sexual preferences of your goats. I think I can handle anything else you have to share.”
Leanna’s pail was already a fourth of the way full of milk, and she continued to fill it as she talked. “Do you remember when I got shot?”
He nodded.
“Up until then, I was a content loner. No one to have to think about when making a decision. No arguments or negotiations. I could do what I wanted and go where I wanted.”
Again, he nodded his understanding. Relationships were not easy to keep in their line of work.
“But those five weeks in the hospital were tough.”
Eddie regarded the trio of baby goats jumping around the field. They bucked not only each other, but also the elder with their tiny painted antler stubs.
“I’d never hated being alone as much as I did then. But when they discharged me, I dreaded going home. When the nurse pushed me out those sliding doors, instead of seeing the taxi I’d called, I saw you.”
Thank-you’s always made him uncomfortable, and he could tell the words were about to be uttered. “You’d have done the same for me.”
“No. I wouldn’t have. Not back then.” She paused mid-pull and stared at him. “You took me into your home and, for over six weeks, dragged my ass out of the room and forced me to do the physical therapy. Thank you.”
“We take care of each other.” The black-furred kid caught him watching. It let out an excited yelp, pointed its stubs, and ran straight toward him. He braced himself for impact. It rammed its little head at his ankle and fell back on its ass before getting back up and trying again. When he shoved the creature away, it began a full-on head-ramming assault on his hand.
“Looks like you made a friend.”
The friend in question bit the leg of his jeans and began a tense game of tug and war. “How do I unfriend him?” he asked while pulling his pants out of its mouth. Instead of getting the message, the kid planted his front hooves on Eddie’s leg, raised on to its hind legs, and squawked at him.
“Stop fighting him and pat him instead. He’ll eventually get bored and go away.”
He deferred to the Goat Whisperer and rubbed the rough hair between its horns.
“Do you remember that last night at your place?”
“Not much. We got pretty drunk,” he muttered while he petted the goat’s neck.
“I wasn’t drunk, you were. I came into the living room wearing very little and looking hot as hell with every intention of showing you just how grateful I was for all you did.”
He stopped mid-pat and eyed her and her version of events.
“And you spent it talking about another woman.”
“I don’t remember any of this.”
“You were too busy being drunk off your ass and crying in your brandy about a woman you said you didn’t deserve and could never have.”
He flinched at her description, understanding where she was headed.
“In the morning, when you asked me to keep an eye on them, I figured out who she was. So, I came here to hang out with the woman who made the arrogant Edil Ghani deem himself unworthy.”
The direction of the one-sided conversation made him uncomfortable. When he squirmed, the kid climbed on his lap and curled into a fur ball.
“Now I understand. If it makes you feel any better, if she had a penis, I’m pretty sure I’d feel the same way you do.” She moved the pail to the side before swatting the goat’s rump and watched it run off and join the others. “Rachael!” she called out and whistled. “But it’s more than that. I fell in love with the place, the family. They make me feel like one of them, like I belong here. They’re mine, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”
He fixed his attention on the mountain range in the distance. “Do you remember when you escorted Ice to Germany?”
“I do.”
“By the end of that trip, you were unconscious, and she’d been abducted.”
“If you’re trying to remind me how I failed at my job, trust me, I remember.”
“I’m not. I’m trying to point out that the people looking for her have outsmarted us before, and we can’t afford to underestimate them again. You’re not doing this family any favors by allowing them to take these risks.”
“Agreed.” Leanna placed a new bucket under the creature and wiped its udders before milking it like the first. “When Alisha walked away from her family, she walked away from her dead husband’s life insurance. She pays for everything on her own. Which wasn’t a problem before. The money from the fruit we sold covered our expenses, but that was before Jayden’s diagnosis. This is a small business. There’s no health insurance here, and the little guy takes close to twenty-five medications a day. The cost of his prescriptions alone is more than the rent of my old apartment in D.C. He has three appointments in Seattle a week where they do expensive lab work, and if it’s a good day, that’s all they do. On bad days, which happen a lot more than we like, he has to have either blood or platelet transfusions, sometimes both. Let’s tack on to that the spinal taps he gets every three months. Not to mention the fact that it’s a two-hour drive round trip, and he’s usually so tired, they wait until the next day to return, which is why they ended up renting a place in the city to make it easier on him. All of which they have to do to keep him alive until they find a stem cell match. There’s a shit load of other expenses she needs to cover when that happens.”
“If it’s a money issue, I make more than enough to cover the costs. Risking their lives isn’t necessary.”
“I’ve had the same arguments with her.” She chuckled. “Hell, I’ve even offered to pay. It’s not a money issue. It’s a home issue. If it were just the money, she’d have reached out to the agency and asked for assistance. Considering she helped them catch and eradicate the second-most-wanted man, they’d have been more than happy to help. But their help would have meant moving. A new identity, probably her working a traditional forty-hour job with health insurance. Insurance would mean new doctors. But at the end of the day, it’s abou
t leaving this life and his home.”
“Bullshit.” Eddie didn’t realize how loud he’d spoken until the baby asleep in his lap jumped. It landed on its feet and scurried off with the other babies. “This isn’t home. It’s a safe house. It’s land with trees, goats, and a couple buildings. What good is all this if they’re dead?”
“This is the reason they’re fighting to live,” she snapped back.
He narrowed his gaze, waiting for her to explain.
“Look, Jay’s immune system is so weak he can’t leave the house. He’s vulnerable to airborne infections as well as the ones people carry. He only leaves the property for doctor appointments, and even then, he wears a mask and avoids contact as much as possible. She’s trying to keep his spirits up. Him seeing the sunlight, being able to look out the window and see what colors his goats’ horns are, all of it gives him a reason to get out of bed. Taking this away from him isn’t the right thing for Jayden.”
Having a dead mother wasn’t either. But Eddie kept his thought to himself. “And the fact you have a universal access code on the gate?”
“There’s no universal access code to the gate, dumbass.” Leanna rolled her eyes. “Justin is the only other person outside of the family who has access to the property. The vendors are never allowed farther than the barn. The only other person who comes here with any regularity is Jay’s first-grade teacher. She drops off assignments and cards for him from the school every week. I’ve never met a kid who likes getting homework until now. Ally says it’s more the fact he feels like they notice he’s not there. That he hasn’t been forgotten. It’s because of that teacher and her love for Jay that the town has had three donor drives. A couple of whom ended up being stem-cell matches and donated to save the lives of two people who’d have died otherwise.”
“You talk like her.”
She grinned. “I’ve had the same arguments with her enough times. I pretty much know her responses by heart.”
The goat Leanna milked gave her hand a nudge with one of her purple antlers. She rubbed its head and whispered in its ear. It took the sight of her talking to the creature for Eddie to conclude she’d lost her mind. He stared at the sky and whispered a prayer to the heavens.
“Razaa filled me in on why he wanted to come home.”
“What did he tell you?”
She returned to milking the creature as she talked. “That Wassim sent in his swab sample, and it’s disappeared.”
“Did he tell you I advised him not to discuss the situation with his mother?”
“He did.” She gave the goat’s ass a slap. “Thank you, Rachael.” Just like the first one, the creature wandered back to the group.
“I hope you talked sense into him.”
“Actually, I told him he should tell her.” Leanna rose from her spot, picking up one of the pails. “Ally would never forgive the two of you if you don’t.”
The response didn’t surprise him. She’d drank the Ice-flavored Kool-Aid. Eddie climbed to his feet and carried the other bucket of milk. “She’ll offer herself up as bait. We can’t risk her life without knowing all the players involved in this.”
He followed her around the barn to the car.
“That’s Alisha’s decision to make. Not yours or mine.” Leanna stopped at the golf cart and positioned her pail in the bed before reaching for the one he held.
“She’s way too emotional right now.”
She leaned her back against the vehicle and crossed her arms. “Not any more emotional than any other mother with a chronically ill child.”
“Exactly.”
She stared in the direction of the house. “She’ll do anything to help him.”
Eddie nodded. “No matter how stupid.”
Leanna eyed him. “Like I said, it’s her call to make. Not yours or mine.”
His brows rose, and when he opened his mouth to argue, she put up her hand.
“We were trained to think logically. And logically, you’re thinking if she knows about this option, she will go down there and potentially get herself killed. Right?”
He didn’t answer. Just waited for her to continue.
“Let’s assess Alisha Dimarchi, shall we?” She flashed him a look and then continued. “Kidnapped twice, raped, and brutally attacked for two years. Correct?”
He nodded.
“In the years since her abduction, she has lost a lot of people she loved. Many of whose deaths she blames herself for, correct?”
Although he wanted to argue, he didn’t.
“Now let’s consider what would happen if Jayden caught pneumonia, got sick, and died. And while we do that, let’s tack on the possibility she discovers we kept Wassim’s swab a secret from her. The one person she believes could save her son, and we don’t tell her? Don’t even give her the chance to help him? It will kill her. And…” Leanna pointed a finger at him. “When she finds out we knew, any level of trust or faith she had in us would die as well. We’d all lose her.”
“You’re assuming we need her help to find Wassim. All we need is to track down the kit he submitted, and we’ll lift enough information off that to find him ourselves. But if you or Raz tell her about Wassim, she will find a way to get down there and meet him and possibly get killed in the process. You’re assuming we need her to make this happen.”
Leanna pushed off the truck and walked to the driver’s seat. “Not assuming. I know her, and I know what she’s capable of.”
She started the vehicle and put it in drive. “If you think it would kill her, then you’re the one who’s assuming things.”
Eddie stared at her for a minute before taking his seat. His head hurt, he smelled like goat shit, and he was fully aware Leanna was a lost cause. He was on his own.
They pulled away from the barn and neared the house. “I’m glad you came.” She stared at the road. “If things don’t end well, she’s going to need someone.”
“And my hanging out with goats with painted horns makes me the person she’ll need?” He laughed. “Your emotions for them have clouded your judgment.”
She slowed at the second gate and punched in the code. “Maybe.” She surveyed him while the doors slid open. “Or maybe it made me a better judge of what’s best for my family.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
MARK OF ICE
Ally leaned back on her patio chair. She admired the crescent moon and tiny white specks of light peppering the endless streaks of blue and black. One of the things she loved about the island was how even in the darkness of night, she could make out the outlines of the mountains looming in the horizon. The sight had the same effect each time she gazed upon it: a mixture of awe and emptiness.
“Vodka for your thoughts.” The wicker chair Eddie reclined in creaked when he leaned over, presenting her with a shot glass of clear liquid.
She waved the offering away. “Life has a very twisted sense of humor.”
“Truth.” He laughed and raised the glass. “That’s why we have vodka.” After gulping down the entire drink in one swallow, he rested it on the small glass table between them. “Aren’t people in your profession supposed to think of life as full of possibilities and shit?”
Her profession? A career she walked away from a lifetime ago. “A therapist’s job”—she paused for effect—“is not about making false promises. It’s about helping people find light no matter how dark their lives seem.”
He tapped the edge of the glass against the table. “So, tell me, finder of light, why do you think life is twisted?”
“I’m living another person’s dream.” She waved her hand out in front of her. “This orchard, the trees, even those goats. These weren’t things I fantasized about. I would have been content living the rest of my life in Philadelphia. I’d have looked out at the skyline every night, admired the beauty of the skyscrapers and the city lights, never wishing for more.”
“But you prefer this one over what you had?”
“Parts of it.” She chewed on her lip.
“He was right about so many things.”
“David was a smart man.”
She bit back a wince and rose from her seat. His mention of a name she’d blocked from her head made it clear she hadn’t gotten better, just better at pretending.
“Ice?”
She moved to the edge of the deck and fixed her attention on the shadowed mountains in the distance. “I used to look forward to going to bed every night.”
“Used to?”
She nodded.
“But not anymore?”
“I stopped dreaming about…” Her voice cracked. “…him.”
She shrugged and continued. “I can’t remember the way he looked or the way he sounded anymore. It’s all a blur.” She ran the pad of her finger over the smooth post she leaned against and didn’t confess the second part. How the dreams had been her consolation. Even if he didn’t walk beside her during the days, he once filled her nights. “When he first started fading, I used to get this burning in the pit of my stomach.” She pressed her hand against her waist as the familiar burn began. “I’d stay up at night trying to remember every memory, everything he ever said… I still remember the words and actions. I just can’t remember his face or his voice when he did or said those things.”
A cool breeze brushed against her skin. Ally lifted her face. The gust glided across her heated cheeks. She sucked in a lungful of the evening scent of cedar and allowed it to ease the burn warming her gut. Once the dreams ceased, his desertion of her had become complete. It became too much to bear. Which was why she’d think of him in general terms. Giving him the name made him real. The loss more intense. To survive, she did the only thing she could; she shut the door on him, left the wound unattended. Until today, when a black SUV drove into her orchard.