Who Moved My Goat Cheese?

by Lynn Cahoon

  Ian turned and leaned on the gate, watching her. “We found her mother dead this morning. We thought the coyote had taken Precious to the hills for dinner. Until I got your message, that is.”

  “The poor little thing, she must have been scared and ran away.” Angie glanced over at the orphaned goat. She pushed the tears away. “Wait, you said you got my message? You’re running Moss Farm?”

  “I’m managing the dairy until the next of kin can be informed and get someone here. Allen, he asked me to step in.” He pointed to the bag of feed. “That should get you through at least a couple months. When the new owner comes in, I’ll tell him that you’re fostering Precious.”

  Angie’s hands landed on her hips. “Who said I was fostering her? I have a life. I have a restaurant to open. I don’t have time…”

  “Being seen as part of the community and willing to help out when needed will go a long way towards paving good relationships with the farmers you’ll want as suppliers. I think your finding Precious might have just saved you a lot of headache.” He pulled out his cell and snapped a picture of the baby goat.

  “What are you doing now?” Angie leaned on the side of the porch watching him. She knew she’d lost this battle. And if Ian was right and it made her look good in the supplier’s eyes, well, she could deal with one little goat. Dom on the other hand was going to pout for days.

  He held up the phone and grinned. “Introducing you to the group. I’ll send out that email to the members tonight with a request to email you with any hints on how to raise a baby goat. It will be a good introduction to the guys. Come by the market on Saturday and I’ll introduce you around.”

  “All I had to do to get in your good graces was take in an orphaned goat?” Angie couldn’t believe this was the same man who’d basically tried to banish her from the market less than a week ago.

  “I may have been overly negative at our first meeting. You seem like you’re not a flake. That’s the right term, isn’t it? Besides, Allen told me about your grandmother. Apparently, you do have roots in the community.” He turned to go, but then stopped. “One more question. Where did you find her? I’ll send some guys out to check the fences if we can pinpoint where she got out.”

  “I was walking Dom down at Celebration Park. We took the Red Hawk trail and she was coming down as …” She paused wondering if she should mention Reana’s weird behavior. She decided it wasn’t relevant to the story so she skipped that part. “We were going up,” she concluded.

  Ian walked toward her and leaned his arms on the porch railing. “That’s strange. The Red Hawk trail is on the far side of the farm from the barn. I wonder if she followed someone or another animal toward the trail. Did she look hurt at all?”

  Angie had checked Precious out for injuries when she put her in the back of the car. “I don’t think so. Do you think I should take her to the vet and get her checked out?”

  He turned back toward the yard where Precious was standing still, then jumping straight up, then standing still again and repeating the process. “Unless you start seeing her acting lethargic or looks like she’s in pain, she looks fine now.”

  “Okay then. How much of this food do I give her and when?”

  Ian went through feeding instructions with her. It seemed simple enough. She could feed Precious twice a day, along with Mabel. Keep her bowl full of fresh water. And check the line to make sure she didn’t tangle herself in the leash. “You’re probably going to need a stronger collar soon, just get her a large dog collar down at the hardware store. Or if you’re in Boise, you could go to the pet store. I’ll come out and do her shots next week.”

  “How long do you think it’s going to take to find one of Mr. Moss’s relatives?” Angie followed him to his car as he made to go.

  “Who knows? Allen’s trying to go through the house to see if he can find an address book, but apparently Gerald was a bit of a hoarder. There are Ding Dong boxes stacked everywhere, filled with receipts and more.” Ian climbed into the car. “I appreciate you taking her in. I won’t forget this, I promise.”

  And with that, he drove away. When Angie went back to the kitchen her dinner and the two alternates were cold. She grabbed a plate and put it into the microwave to heat as she watched Precious dancing in the early evening light. What where the odds she just got one more pet to add to her small family?

  But you’ll be in good with the community. Ian’s words came back to her. Well, at least he was warming to her. What was the saying, no good deed goes unpunished? She sat down to make notes on the dishes and to eat, hoping her gut wasn’t right this time.

  After dinner, she called Felicia back and they spent the rest of the night going over the plans for next week’s family meal. Which would be only part of the family unless she got a sous chef before the staff training day. When Angie fell into bed, exhausted, she expected sleep to come easily. Instead, she kept thinking about goats and coyotes and Old Man Moss talking about the people who wanted his farm.

  She sat up. Why had Reana been so insistent that she’d been seen on Saturday at the farm? Angie grabbed her phone and typed in a few notes into her text program. She had a few questions for the fashionable real estate expert. And this time, she was going to get honest answers.

  Sleep finally came, but when she woke the next morning, she felt groggy. Heading downstairs to start coffee, she glanced out the window. Precious was staring back at her from the end of her leash in the backyard. She glanced longingly at the slowly dripping pot and gave in. “I’m coming.”

  She’d taken the bag of feed out to the barn after Ian had left. Slipping on her crocs, she made her way to the barn, and proceeded to get food for both Mabel and Precious. Dom was at her heels. After dumping out the grain for both, she turned on the water faucet near the fence and took the hose over to refill the goat’s water. While she was there, she refreshed the bird bath that sat outside the fence. Wasn’t she becoming the gentlewoman farmer? Glancing at her herb garden, she sprayed the plants quickly, then turned off the water. She’d come back later and set the irrigation water she got weekly from the ditch that ran the back of the property. Her time started at nine and people got touchy if you took your share too early.

  She found Dom exploring back behind the barn. Far enough away from the goat that he couldn’t see the offending creature in his yard. Angie called him back. She needed to get working on the final menu and determine what she needed to find Saturday at the farmers’ market to demo the dishes for the new crew. And she needed coffee.

  Dom came bounding towards her, only giving Precious one quick look to make sure she was still confined in the yard, before following Angie into the house. The coffee was done so she poured a cup and stood at the counter, sipping until she felt more awake. “And I gave up a perfectly good apartment for this life.”

  Dom circled on his bed and flopped into it as if to say, but what about me?

  She had to admit, even with the addition of a goat to worry about and feed, she liked this life better. No one banged on the wall when she played music. No one came knocking at her door at two in the morning because they had the wrong floor. And she owned the place. Or she had owned it before she took out the loan to open the restaurant. She pushed the thought away with one of her Nona’s favorite sayings: “Scared money never wins.”

  A knock came to her door. Surprised since she hadn’t heard a car pull up, she swung the door open to see Mrs. Potter on her porch, watching Precious in the back yard. Angie held the screen door open wide. “Good morning. Do you want some coffee?”

  “That would be lovely.” Mrs. Potter slowly made her way into the kitchen and sank into one of the chairs at the table with a sigh. “That walk shouldn’t be so hard. I can’t tell you the number of times I came over here to have coffee with your grandmother. Then I’d go home and clean my house. Today, I’m probably going to have to take a nap.”

  Angi
e poured coffee then got some shortbread cookies she’d baked to have with the strawberry jam that burned yesterday during the sheriff’s visit. She joined her neighbor at the table. “I’m glad you decided to make the trip.”

  “You have a new pet.” Mrs. Potter picked up a cookie with her tanned and wrinkled hand and waved it at Angie. “I hope you’re not thinking of building a goat herd. They’re unpredictable creatures. I don’t know anyone who had more than one who liked taking care of them. Well, except Moss. Of course, he’d rather be with animals that matched his own personality. The old goat, himself.”

  Angie hid her smile behind her coffee cup. “So what happened between the two of you?”

  “Besides Sophia?” She shook her head. “Nothing, but I don’t like to talk about her. It’s all so painful.”

  “Did you and Nona grow up with Mr. Moss?” Angie knew that her grandmother had gone to school with Mrs. Potter. Then her husband had bought the farm next door when Nona and Grandpa took over the farm from her parents who went back to Scandinavia. She’d heard this story many times when the women were sitting around drinking wine and reminiscing. Nona’s attachment to the land and the community was one reason Angie had decided to come home. To continue the tradition.

  “He went to school with us. Always the troublemaker.” A faraway look crossed over Mrs. Potter’s face. “Everyone thought he was dangerous and exciting. And the man was handsome, I’ll give him that. But I knew he was trouble. When he started hanging out with Sophia, I tried to talk her out of going with him. She was just a kid. So full of life, so happy. They were like night and day.”

  Angie took a cookie and waited. Sometimes stories came out even when you didn’t want to talk.

  “Margaret and I graduated the same year as Moss. He went off to the army and I married Mr. Potter. Of course, Margaret beat me to the altar by a full month. Your Nona, she was a competitive sort.” Mrs. Potter smiled at the memory. “We started our lives. Sophia was still in school. She didn’t tell me they were pen pals. I found his letters to her afterwards. Then a week after she graduated, she disappeared.”

  When Mrs. Potter didn’t continue, Angie picked up the thread. “Disappeared? How?”

  Before she could answer, a knock came to the back door. Before Angie could even stand, Erica Potter stuck her head inside.

  “There you are, Grandma.” Relief filled the young woman’s face as she strolled into the kitchen. “I’ve been at the house for ten minutes looking all over for you. You have a doctor appointment in Boise this morning. We’ve got to go.”

  Mrs. Potter turned and started out of her chair. “That’s on Tuesday. Today’s just…” She paused, trying to remember the day of the week. “I went to bridge yesterday with Delores and that would make today Tuesday.” She sighed.

  “Yep, all day. You have a few minutes to get changed, but we really have to get a move on.” Erica looked down at the table. “Shortbread, my favorite. Can I have a few for the road?”

  “Sure, let me get you a bag.” Angie started to stand but Erica waved her off.

  “Two’s enough. If I have more than that, I won’t be able to stop. Sugar is the devil.” She patted her hips. “And goes right to my hips. I’ll have to run tonight just after the two.”

  “Sorry to leave you,” Mrs. Potter patted Angie’s shoulder. “We’ll talk later. Just know that karma has a way of cleaning all slates.”

  Angie watched as Erica put an arm around her grandmother and helped her out of the house. She thought of Nona’s last years and kicked herself for not being here with her. She should have stayed in Boise; that way she would be available to help out. Instead, Nona had hired a local girl who’d lived with her as a companion and a nurse’s aide. Her name had been Tina and she’d been lovely. She’d moved on to another live-in job right after Nona passed, but she’d been kind to Angie at the funeral.

  Can’t change the past. Nona’s voice sounded in her head. But something about the story Mrs. Potter had been telling made her wonder if the past had caught up with Gerald Moss on that rocky hiking trail. Something had.

  She glanced at her clock. She needed to get a move on if she was going to get to the realtor’s office close to opening. She wanted to talk to Reana and see what exactly she’d been doing out on that trail in heels the day before. And why she didn’t want people to know she’d been out at the farm on Sunday.

  This isn’t your problem.

  The words echoed in her mind, bringing her up short for a minute. Then she shook them away. She looked at the framed picture of her grandmother and her that she’d hung over the table. Nona would want her to help her friend. “It may not be my problem, but I’m going to find out what happened to the man. He deserves someone on his side.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Like she suspected, Reana Whiting was sitting at her desk promptly at ten when Angie came through the door. She’d told Angie when the best time to reach her in the office when they were looking for buildings for the restaurant. She looked up with a big smile when she heard the door open, and that smile wavered just a bit when Angie walked through the door.

  “What’s up? I’m sure you’re not in the market for another property.” Reana didn’t stand, but motioned Angie into one of her visitor chairs. She took her hand off the modem and focused on her visitor.

  “You’re right. I can’t even think about doing something else until The County Seat is up and running. Some chef owners jump into two or more properties at the same time. I’m not that brave.” Angie settled into the chair, hoping she sounded casual.

  “I’d say you were smart. What’s the stats on new businesses? How many go out of business in the first year, eighty percent? Believe me, I’ve thought of branching out on my own, but I have the best of both worlds. I run my own listings and rent a spot out of the agency here. They bring in the big franchise name and I get the benefit.” She leaned back in her chair. “But you didn’t come to discuss the pros and cons of small business development. What’s on your mind?”

  Angie decided to be blunt. “Why were you out on the trail yesterday? I know you weren’t hiking, not in those shoes.”

  A coy look came over Reana’s face. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you? You know what they say about curiosity and cats. Maybe the same could be said for chefs.”

  “Look, I’m just wondering why you were there?”

  Reana started playing with her pen. “You’re right, I didn’t plan on ruining a perfectly good pair of Jimmy Choos on a dirt hiking trail. And when that goat attacked me, she ripped a piece of fabric from my skirt. That suit was vintage Chanel. If I could find the little monster, I’d tan her hide and make me a new purse. Goat purses, it could be the new fashion trend. At least out here.”

  “I don’t think Precious attacked you. I think she was lost and looking for someone to take her home.” Angie didn’t mention the goat was safe at her house. Who knew if Reana’s revenge plans were only talk. “Anyway, why were you up there?”

  Reana looked around. “I gave Gerald my personal cell phone on Sunday when I was there. He told me he was thinking about selling, finally, and I didn’t want him talking to anyone else. I was surprised to find you sitting with him all chummy drinking coffee when I came to visit. He never has guests. I got worried that you were trying to run a deal without me.”

  “Wait, you thought I wanted to buy the farm?” Angie shook her head. “What would I want with a goat dairy?”

  “Who knows what you foodie types want? Besides, you came from California. Those guys are always here buying up property cheap and building things we don’t need.” Reana rubbed her face. “Okay, so I overreacted. I left him my phone and when I found out he’d died, well, I went looking to see if I could find it on the trail where he fell.”

  “That was where he fell? Why would he be out there, that’s the very edge of the farm?” Angie wondered if Sheriff Brown had considere
d this as odd as she did.

  “Maybe he was chasing that stupid goat?” Reana shrugged. “All I know is now I’m out a phone and it was one of those nice iPhones too. And I’m going to have to wait until the next of kin shows up and start the relationship building all over again.”

  “Maybe the phone is in the house. Have you asked the sheriff?” She could almost buy Reana’s story. Her cell phone had been pricey but the carrier she used pretended like it was just another payment. Until something happened to the first one.

  Her computer alarm chimed and Reana turned to look at the display. “Sorry, I have to go. I’m in charge of the open house out at the new subdivision. Hopefully we’ll get some qualified buyers looking today. Last weekend, I sat out there alone all Saturday with no bites. That’s one of the reasons I was so excited to get Gerald’s call about selling. It’s a hard business.”

  As Angie left the realty office, she glanced down Main Street to her building. Workers were out front painting and installing signage. She might as well pop in and see how things were going. Besides, she needed to make sure her kitchen box had been unpacked. She’d brought all the stuff they’d used at el pescado but she knew she needed to go shopping for a few odds and ends this week. She’d get her list done today and head out tomorrow for the supply store in Boise. Maybe she and Felicia could stop for lunch too and make a day of it, if her friend didn’t have other plans.

  She found Felicia in the bar area, boxes of wine and other liqueurs stacked around her. “Your friend Rob did us right. He sent over enough supply for a month or two. And he hooked me up with a beer distributor who works with several local microbrews. We’re all set. Now I just have to get it unpacked. Do you want to help?”

  “I thought I’d run through the kitchen and make a list of what else we’ll need. Then I can come help you finish up.” She leaned on the dark wood bar they’d rescued from the Mexican restaurant that had been in the location before. She glanced around the freshly painted dining room. “It’s starting to feel like home here.”