Page 38 of Fake It Till You Make It

“News flash. You’re a little prickly for after-hours pleasantries, but I’m open to negotiation.” She paused. “With a caveat. Nothing can interfere with my evening study time. Passing my licensure exam is priority. Oh,” she pointed, “that’s my car over there.”

“Woman, I can see.”

“Rule number one, use your partner voice. And here’s a hint, that was not it.”

They parked on the rocky shoulder.

“Hiccup, stay put. Amarie, let’s go.”

“So bossy,” she muttered.

Amarie walked over to Prince. As if he was still in need of rest, pollen had settled on the hood, a soft blanket thick enough for her to write her name in it. And of course everything was as she left it; even the three goats were still there.

“Oh my gosh. Billie, Jean, and Diana. Good morning.” Her old friends bleated in greeting. Playful, they romped closer, the white frosting on their short-haired black coats gleaming against the backdrop of a green meadow.

“They don’t have names, Amarie.”

“Well, they do now.”

“You’re actually talking to the goats.”

“Look, it was two o’clock in the morning. It was either talk to them or Blair-Witch cry.”

Because for years, guilt had eaten away at her confidence, and it had become easier not to share her hopes and dreams with other humans.

Eli lowered his head before releasing a long sigh. “Don’t spring a leak. If folks see you crying, they’re going to lash out at me for hurting your feelings.”

“I’m not that sensitive.”

“Sure you aren’t,” he drawled.

“Stop being ornery. I’m going to say good morning to thegoats as they caused me no trouble during my night vigil. Then, as your partner, I will stand back and observe your interaction. Always willing to learn from an expert in animal psychology.”

Eli said nothing.

“Hello? Partner? Communicating is fundamental to establishing healthy relationships.”

“So I’ve been told. Get on with it,” he rasped.

To the trio she squatted low and whispered, “I know it’s been days since our last chat, but I’ve been busy crossing items off my to-do list. I was a little nervous about how I was gonna make it in this town. But guess what, I got a job and a partner, of sorts. Eli,” she called, “come on over here and meet the ladies.”

“I see a pair of door knockers. Pretty sure one of the kids is male.”

“The devil is a liar” came her immediate retort. “They are entirely too level-headed with superb listening skills to possess Y chromosomes. And don’t call them children.”

Eli pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, city girl. Here’s a quick lesson. Young goats are called kids, both male and female. These are Nigerian Dwarf goats, a companionable, milk-producing breed. A group of kids is a tribe.”

“Thanks for that. Now go ahead,” she prompted. “Introduce yourself to thekids. And don’t be mean. They know my history with the opposite sex, and frankly, they were pretty judgy of my recent choices. And remember, partner voice. Not that barky thing you usually do.”

Talking with animals had always been easier than the complex psychology of human behavior. Telling Billie, Jean, and Diana her fears and dreams avoided all the side-eye glances and eyerolls from her family and friends (not Vali of course) counting her failures as justification for herto remain in a loveless arrangement. What she had with Russell never reached the “loving relationship” ideal. Six years saddled, yet single.

Eli raised one booted foot, propping it on the wooden fence separating the field from the shoulder of the road “What’s up, goats?”

“OMG, stop it. Just act normal.”

“You’re the one under the influence of farm animals, and I’m abnormal?”

The sound of someone clearing their voice had them both turning. “Morning, Eli.”