Free Next Door Daddy by Debra Clopton Page A

neighbor, I can find you. I’ll stop in and say hi to you, too, Nate.” She smiled at him, her meaning more than clear. “See y’all later.”
    Nate nodded. What else could he do? He was certain he was as red as the old work rag balled up on the dashboard of his truck. It was as much from frustration as anything.
    â€œShe seems nice,” Pollyanna commented when they were finally on the road again.
    â€œYeah,” he grunted, not at all interested in discussing who was nice and who wasn’t. When he’d married Kayla he’d married her for life. He’d been off the market the first time he ever saw her. And as far as he was concerned he still was.
    With the way Pollyanna looked, he was more than confident she’d had her fair share of attention since her husband’s death.
    He wondered how she felt about the subject.

Chapter Eight
    â€œB ert! No, Bert!”
    At the sound of Gil’s excited screams, Polly dropped her paint roller and raced to the open doorway. Her heart was pounding as she ran down the steps and around the side of the house. Two days ago they’d gone to buy a baby goat and instead they’d come home with Bert. Bert was a crotchety old billy goat, older than dirt. She’d tried to talk Gil into picking out a baby goat, but the moment he’d heard Bert’s story he’d wanted the old goat. Since the older couple was getting out of the goat business, they said no one wanted Bert because he was old and ornery. Gil had said the baby goats would get homes, but that they had to take Bert so he would have a place to live. And so it was that Bert had come to live with them. He’d immediately started following Gil around like a puppy, nibbling at him as if he were a cookie. And Bogie was being terrorized. Bert loved trying to eat his collar.
    It hadn’t taken her long to realize that between Bert and Gil, she was going to pass gray and go straight to white hair. Just yesterday she’d caught both of them standing on top of the feed shed. How either of them got there she couldn’t exactly say. The only good thing was that the shed was only about twelve feet off the ground. Compared to three stories, it seemed somewhat tame in perspective. Still, as she raced around the house, she wasn’t sure what to expect.
    It wasn’t until she’d reached the side yard that she realized Gil’s squeals were from laughing.
    Bert had knocked Gil down, had latched on to a button on his shirt and was trying to eat it.
    Polly rushed forward, grabbed the goat’s collar and tried to pull him away from Gil. “Let go, Bert. Let go oo. ” Bert wasn’t giving up the button and Gil wasn’t helping, since he was too busy giggling to save himself. And why would she expect anything different? He had wanted a goat that would eat tires! Polly was out of breath when she finished wrestling with the now-calm goat. He’d gotten his prize during the scuffle, and stood happily chewing the button, watching her with black eyes from beneath his bushy eyebrows. His white goatee moved up and down with the rhythm of his jaw, making him resemble Applegate Thornton, one of the older men who sat up at Sam’s Diner playing checkers every morning.
    Polly was beginning to wonder at the wisdom of wanting a goat in the first place. He’d started eating her bushes the instant they’d unloaded him. He tried to eat anything he could get his mouth around. She’d had to guard her tulips constantly. Nate had warned her that an old goat might be more than she was bargaining for, but she’d chosen not to take his advice.
    The man was big on advice.
    â€œGil, honey, how did he get out of his pen?” The animal obviously couldn’t be contained. He always got out.
    â€œI don’t know. I think he ate the latch.”
    Polly wouldn’t doubt that for a minute. She stomped to the back of the house to the gate beside the shed.