Free My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) by Kathy Carmichael Page B

goat.
    The goat grain didn't work, but something else had to.
    A horse nudged her hip, trying to get at her pocket. Then she remembered.
    The apple slices.
    Horses considered them a huge treat. Surely a goat would feel the same?
    She pulled out the plastic bag containing apples, and removed several slices while she walked back toward the barn door. "Billy?"
    Steps from the door, she heard something. Had that been a soft bleat?
    Turning, she looked behind her. "Billy?"
    No response. At least not immediately. Then she heard the bleat again. But from where?
    "Apples, Billy. I have apples for you," she coaxed.
    And was immediately met with another bleat. This time she was able to hone in on the direction of the bleat, and her eyes widened.
    Up above.
    In the hayloft.
    Billy's head peeked over the edge, and he bleated again.
    Her heart exploded with relief.
    "There you are," she cried. Billy was okay. He hadn't gone far. He hadn't escaped from the barn while her back had been turned.
    He'd merely climbed up to the loft, where he'd previously followed her.
    The animal was far too smart for his own good.
    "Come down here, Billy."
    He bleated his refusal.
    With all that fresh hay, he most likely had been pigging out on it.
    "Then I'm coming up to get you."
    She made her way up the rough stairs, really not much better than a ladder, to the loft. "Here, have some apple slices."
    The goat came right to her side and gently took the apple from her fingers.
    "I thought sure you were a goner, you naughty boy." Relief washed through her. "But we need to get you down from here."
    She turned and headed back down, but the goat didn't follow. She pulled another apple slice from her pocket and held it out.
    He came down one step to get it.
    She repeated the offering with each step down she took. The animal, fortunately, followed, although a couple of times he looked back, as if he were having second thoughts.
    At last they were both firmly planted back on the ground. "What goes up, must come down."
    Then she grinned. "I have it! Your name!"

 
     
     
    Chapter 17

     
    The radio blared good news, and Monty Joe shot it a scowl. By morning the snow should start melting, and the area's normal temperatures and weather would return.
    He should be elated.
    But nothing in his life had been normal since the moment he'd picked Lori up from the airport.
    Nothing.
    Not even his response to his routine being disrupted. That usually had him as cranky as a mama rattlesnake.
    Instead, he'd been grinning and laughing whenever Lori returned from her chores.
    His new attitude didn't sit well with him at all.
    And now this.
    By morning he'd get his wish to return Lori to the airport and get her out of his life.
    So why wasn't he grinning ear to ear?
    Why didn't his heart leap with joy?
    It had to be loneliness.
    He wasn't an introspective sort of man, but with all this time on his hands, that's exactly what he'd been doing—introspecting.
    When Will had suggested it was time for Monty Joe to look for a wife, his reaction hadn't been exactly friendly.
    Yet the more time he had to gnaw over the idea, like a herding dog with a tasty bone, the more he came to agree with Will.
    Maybe settling down and creating a family of his own someday soon wasn't a bad idea.
    Monty Joe wasn't the least bit interested in sowing more oats. He'd done all that, and then some, during his rodeo glory days.
    Having Lori underfoot all this time—and not hating it—illustrated how far down the trail he'd gone. Apparently any female company could cheer him up.
    And if it was this good with Lori, then he could only imagine how great his life would be once he found the right woman.
    He nodded. Yup. That definitely explained why the weather forecast sent his mood into the root cellar.
    Or why his face lit up at the sound of the back door opening.
    Lori.
    He quickly snapped off the radio and hid it under the pillow cushion.
    While it was fine that he knew about the upcoming clear skies, he