Page 16 of Baker (Bastian Brothers #1)

“Morning,” the vet called between sips from a thermos that had funny little vet stickers plastered over the sides. He eyed my siblings with obvious curiosity. “Must be some of the new Bastian boys I’ve heard about. Aiden, local vet and poker hotshot.” He shook Dodge and Ford’s hands, then mine.

“If hotshot means losing every time we play, then sure, you’re a hotshot.

Thanks for stopping by on such short notice.

Like I said on the phone, I don’t know a damn thing about goat conformity and all that.

I did contact other folks who have bought goats from this breeder, and they all speak well of him and his animals. ”

“Happy to swing by,” Aiden replied as he settled his backside against the fender of his truck. “I know the breeder well. Kids have won lots of blue ribbons on those meat goats. You should do well if you read up on how to tend to goats.”

“I read a lot online,” Ford piped up as a soft blush pinked his cheeks. “I mean, not as much as you know, being a vet and all, but I did read a lot.”

“Good. That’ll be one person here who knows about the new goats,” Aiden replied with a soft smile for my incredibly shy half-brother. Ford nodded, pulled his borrowed cowboy hat down to shield his eyes, and made a beeline to the springhouse.

“He’s a little awkward,” Dodge explained before heading inside to try to make some sense of the bookkeeping mess he had inherited.

I was happy to pass that off to him. Hell, I’d have handed that clutter to anyone who could add and subtract better than me, which was…

well, probably any ten-year-old. Dahn was probably better at math than me.

My skills were more agriculturally based.

Not that one didn’t need mathematical knowledge for farming because one certainly did.

I guess it wasn’t that I sucked at numbers.

I could calculate how much seed would be needed for this acreage or that plot, application rates of fertilizer, when to breed cows and when they were due to calf.

Lots of things required mathematics. I just hated sitting at a desk pouring over receipts.

Maybe what I loathed the most was watching our ranch lose money every quarter. Probably so.

“He’s cute,” Aiden commented into his thermos.

“You think?” I glanced at Dodge climbing the front steps. “Never been into redheads much.”

“No, not him, the other one. The shy one,” he clarified as he took another sip.

I sighed. “What the hell is it with you and Ollie today? You two get a whiff of a new man in town and you’re panting like horn dogs.”

“Okay, first off, I am not panting. I merely mentioned that he was cute. Secondly, and this is crucial, there are exactly three queer men in this town. Me, you, and Ollie. So when a few handsome men arrive, we’re going to be interested. Is he gay?”

I assumed he was asking about Ford. I didn’t have time to reply because as I opened my mouth, Bella led Ford out of her soon-to-be boutique by the hand and into the house, pausing just long enough to wiggle their fingers at Aiden and me before leading Ford inside.

Bella was not having a high femme day—her explanation for when she was knocking around with no makeup or wig but with last night’s whiskers—but she was in a plain checkered dress.

Despite how delicate Bella’s features were, the dark whiskers and short hair gave her away as male.

She had been in a big hurry to tend to some new patterns so perhaps that was why she was presenting so manly today.

I didn’t know her or Ford well enough to ask or presume anything.

Heck, maybe she had just overslept and didn’t have time to get gussied up as Granny would say.

“That’s the first time I have ever seen a man in a dress leading another man in a dress into this house,” Aiden commented.

“Bella is a dressmaker. She likes the term flower man or transfemme.” Aiden stared at me in confusion.

“Flower man. It’s an Asian term for men who like to wear pretty things as I understand it.

They’re good friends. Come out from New York City together and are always side-by-side.

” I clarified as best as I could. “She’s obviously using him as a living dress form.

As to your other question, yeah, Ford is gay, as are Bella and Dodge.

Linc, who is somewhere doing something with his beard, probably is queer but hasn’t gone into detail.

I think Granny is straight, but hey, who knows?

You know how she is when it comes to Lynda Carter in her Wonder Woman outfit. ”

“Yeah, she does love Lynda. So, this here ranch is now a rainbow ranch four times over. Very cool.”

Linc emerged from the house, gave us a wave, and ran off in nothing but jogging pants, a DePaul University royal blue and scarlet hoodie, and bright red sneakers. Guess he was taking up jogging for his stress.

“That’s Linc. Short for Lincoln. From Chicago,” I said and got a nod. “He’s the queer one. I’m thinking he’s a daddy bear looking for a cub to cuddle.”

“Ah, got it. Well, things around here sure have changed since our last poker game.”

“You could say that.”

I didn’t plan on going into it all now. Maybe next week at our monthly QAF poker game on Friday night, but not when the rattle of a big pickup truck hauling a livestock trailer was creeping up the driveway.

If I got started talking about the siblings, I might not stop.

And there were goats to unload. Ford emerged from the house, sans the bright green dress, and jumped into helping wherever he could.

The kid was no slouch when it came to hard work.

I had to give him that. Within the hour, we had all ten does and the big white buck with a red head and neck off the trailer, vet inspected and moved into their barn.

According to Aiden, the does were incredibly pregnant and should kid within a month.

Most mature does have twins, some triplets, and quads even happened at times.

So in a month we could have thirty or more goats, which we could then sell to local kids for their fair projects or to buyers of chevon—meat from a mature goat if we raised them up—and cabrito, which was meat from a young, milk-fed goat.

Which was akin to veal in cattle. Ford followed Aiden around the entire time, asking a thousand questions to which Aiden, the randy bugger, was happy to answer.

Our rooster had nothing on my two friends when it came to strutting around to impress handsome men.

I stood at the fence of the goat pasture to watch the chubby does getting to know their new lot and shelter as the buck took a nap in the sun.

He seemed a chill guy, which was good because he could knock a person ass over tin cups if he had a hankering to.

I’d guesstimate him to be two hundred fifty pounds or thereabout.

Not a Hereford bull by any stretch but enough to roll your ass if he got the notion.

And they all had horns, so that would add a certain thrill to a rear attack.

The previous owner, a nice guy from a few counties over named Billings, had assured us that Willy, the buck, was the gentlest buck he had ever owned.

He’d hated to sell him, but they needed a new sire. Something that I understood well.

Dodge, Linc, Granny with her damn blue-green hair, and Bella stood with me.

Ford was in the barn with Aiden, filling out forms and papers that we’d need for future use.

Bloodlines, Boar goat registry information, and medical papers.

Ford even had a little folder with a goat that Bella had sketched on the front of it to keep all the paperwork tidy.

He was quite into his goats. Made me wonder if the guy had ever had any pets in his life the way he fawned over dogs and goats.

“They got funny eyes,” Granny commented as one of the does meandered over to blat in our faces.

Bella reached down to tickle its chin, which the doe seemed to enjoy.

“Ford says they like animal crackers.” She dug into the pocket of her sweater and handed us each one animal cracker.

The does stampeded over to us, the buck watched from his napping spot on top of a hay pile and then went back to sleep.

Yeah, I felt that. It would take more than one tiny treat to get me up from a nap in the sun as well.

I’d need at least a few dozen of Granny’s peanut butter no bakes to rouse my ass from a sunny slumber.

“They are so cute.” Bella sighed, patting each doe that came begging. “We should get collars with their names on them so we know who we’re talking to.”

“Good idea. That’ll help with the papers when the kids start coming,” Linc said as he passed his giraffe cookie over to Bella.

She gave him a soft smile, which made the big man tug on his beard nervously.

Was everyone on this ranch twitterpated?

I mean, sure, spring was here, and that made a young man’s fancy turn to love, but every damn man in a hundred-mile radius had heart emoji eyes of late.

Thankfully, I was not in such a dorky state.

I was perfectly in control of myself and knew that what Hanley and I had was purely physical.

Which reminded me. I had a hat to fetch.

“Looks like you all have things under control here. I’m going to head out and find my hat, then finish the fence ride,” I casually mentioned.

Everyone was too enamored of Willy and his wonderful women to care what I was doing.

So I set off after I pulled Aiden aside to thank him and ask if he could bill us for this visit, then keep us on speed dial for kidding season.

He seemed quite agreeable to coming back out whenever we needed him, his dark cocoa eyes darting to Ford forking fresh hay about the inside lounging area.

I had a thought to make a comment, but why bother?

If he wanted to make a pass at Ford, that was between him and Ford.

They seemed an odd match to me, but then again, they weren’t looking to get married.

Hooking up required no similar likes or aligning zodiac signs.

A stiff penis cares nothing about romance or nuptials.

Leaving them to it, I snuck off to the stable, called Prissy in from pasture, and saddled her in record time.

Speaking of stiff penises, I was possessed of one that was ready for more tent fun.