Page 118 of Heartland

The cows are all tucked in for the night, so my work here is done. “See you in the morning, girls! Don’t stay up too late.” I shut out the light.

“Aren’t you going to milk them?” Rickie asks.

“Not now. This is just a social visit. Come and meet my goats.” I close the exterior door to keep the cows warm and lead Rickie through the dark toward the goat enclosure at the end of the barn. “Hi girls!”

Jacquie and Jill turn to look at me. They scamper over, probably hoping I have treats.

“Sorry to disappoint you both,” I say, squatting down. Jill tries to jump on me, but I push her back and pet her instead. “It’s going to snow, did you know that? Who’s a pretty girl?” I croon as Jacquie tries to steal my hat.

“Honestly,” Rickie says. “Viewing you in your natural habitat is very enlightening.” He holds up his hands as if he’s framing the picture of me with Jacquie. “I sort of get it now.”

“Get what?”

“The young farmer thing. I always had a little trouble picturing you earning your diploma and then choosing a life of physical labor. But this hilltop spread is seriously cool.”

I let out a sigh. “Farming means I’ll never end up in a cubicle at an insurance company.”

“God, no,” Rickie scoffs.

“But farming is all risk. My brother is stressed out all the time. Do I really want to be responsible for whether Shipley Farms has another good decade?” It’s too much pressure.

“You’re a smart dude, Dylan. A farm could do so much worse than having you on it.”

My roommate knows fuck-all about farming. But his words are a balm on my soul anyway. If only Griffin saw it that way, too.

But he doesn’t. So I’ve made up my mind. And I’m done talking about it. “Are you ready to eat until you burst?”

“Yeah. I brought wine, as promised. And some funny dish towels as a gift for your mom.”

“Funny dish towels?” I’m skeptical.

“Yeah. One of them says—I love big bundts and I cannot lie. And the other one says—Don’t go bacon my heart.”

“You know, you’ll fit right in here.” I give each goat one more scratch on the chin. “Night, girls. Put your feet up. You’re eating for two.”

“They’re pregnant?” Rickie asks.

“I hope so. The buck was brought over to stay the weekend about a month ago.”

“Why don’t you have your own buck? Keeping an animal whose only job was fucking should appeal to you of all people.”

“Oh, Rickie.” I laugh. “You make some good points. But when you only have two girls, it’s too pricey keeping a buck around. He’d jump the fence and Griffin would make him into goat burgers, anyway.”

I lead Rickie out the door.

“Does the drinking start now?” he asks.

“Sure, man. There’s only one rule for tonight.”

“No pot in the house?”

I give him a playful slap. “That goes without saying. The rule is to remember—”

“—to pretend that you and Chastity aren’t doing the nasty. I won’t forget. Even if that’s stupid.”

“It’s not my idea,” I say, looking around the barn for anything my goats might eat or climb on. “Let’s eat some ham and drink a whole lot of wine.”

Thirty-Seven