One Hundred Humbugs (Aspen Cove #25)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Becket Shepherd steered his truck onto the overgrown driveway of the old Wilson place, his heart pounding with hope and anxiety. The property Marge Gunderson had offered for his goat landscaping trial was just the lifeline he and his herd needed. Now, if the universe would cooperate for once.

Becket glanced in the rearview mirror. “Hang in there, Daisy. We’ve got a couple weeks to go yet. Try not to pop that kid out before Christmas, okay?”

He pulled to a stop and climbed out of the cab, wincing as his boots sank into the unexpectedly soft ground. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the overgrown but oddly green field—a striking oasis in the otherwise parched landscape. “Well, gang,” he muttered, eyeing the wild tangle of weeds and grass that thrived against all odds, “looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Becket had just started to lower the trailer ramp when the wail of a police siren cut through the air. He froze, one hand on the trailer latch, the other instinctively reaching to smooth down his unruly hair. “Ah, hell,” he muttered, watching a Silver Springs Police cruiser pull up behind his truck. “Just what we need. A welcoming committee.”

As the car door opened, Becket straightened up, trying his best to look like a respectable businessman and not a vagrant goatherder. It wasn’t easy, given the circumstances.

“Evening, officer,” Becket called out, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “Lovely evening for a bit of ... goat herding, wouldn’t you say?”

The officer approached, hand resting casually on his belt. “This is private property, sir. Would you care to explain what is going on here?”

Becket’s mind raced. How could he possibly explain this situation without sounding insane? “Well, you see, it’s a funny story...”

He launched into an explanation about his meeting with Marge, the landscaping idea, and his hopes to keep things going until at least Christmas. “You see, officer, Daisy there—” he pointed to the pregnant goat, who chose that moment to let out a loud, accusatory bleat, “—she’s due to kid around Christmas. I’m just trying to find a way to keep us all going until then. Marge Gunderson gave me permission to use this property as a trial run.”

The officer’s eyebrows shot up. “Marge Gunderson? The realtor?” His tone was skeptical, bordering on dismissive.

“That’s right.” Becket nodded, hope rising in his chest. “You can call her to verify. She should still be in her office at this hour.”

The officer’s face hardened. “Sir, I’m going to need you to step away from the trailer. Do you have any documentation to prove this arrangement?”

Becket’s heart sank. “Well, no, not exactly. It was more of a verbal agreement, you see... ”

“A verbal agreement,” the officer repeated flatly. “To bring a herd of goats onto private property at dusk.”

“When you put it like that, it does sound a bit crazy,” Becket admitted, his voice strained. “But I swear, I’m telling the truth. These goats, they’re all I’ve got left. I’m just trying to make a fresh start here.”

The officer sighed, torn between skepticism and a hint of sympathy. “Mr...?”

“Shepherd. Becket Shepherd.”

“Of course it is,” the officer muttered. “Mr. Shepherd, I can’t allow you to stay here without verifying your story. I’m going to have to ask you to pack up and move along.”

Panic rose in Becket’s chest. “But officer, please. I’ve got nowhere else to go. These goats need to eat, and Daisy’s due soon. Can’t you just ... I don’t know, give me a chance to sort this out with Marge?”

The officer studied him for a long moment, then glanced at the herd of goats, some of whom were already eyeing the overgrown grass eagerly. He shook his head. “Alright. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to call Ms. Gunderson right now to verify your story. If she backs you up, you can stay. If not, you and your ... landscaping crew will need to move on immediately. Understood?”

Relief flooded through Becket. “Yes, sir. Thank you. I promise, everything will check out.”

The officer stepped away to make the call, leaving Becket to wait anxiously. After what seemed like an eternity, he returned.

“Well, it seems Ms. Gunderson does indeed recall your ... unusual arrangement. You’re free to stay for now, but consider yourself on notice. Any complaints from the neighbors and you’re out. Clear? ”

“Crystal clear, officer. Thank you,” Becket said, trying not to sound too giddy with relief.

As the officer turned to leave, he paused, looking back at Becket with amusement. “And Mr. Shepherd? This town’s seen its share of crazy schemes, but goat landscaping? That’s a new one. For your sake, I hope it works out.”

Watching the cruiser drive away, Becket let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He turned back to his goats, Daisy front and center, eyeing him with what he swore was judgment.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he told her, reaching out to scratch behind her ears. “This was your idea, remember? You’re the one who decided to get knocked up at the most inconvenient time possible.”

Daisy responded by attempting to eat his shirt.

“Alright, alright,” Becket said, gently pushing her away. “I get it. Less talking, more setting up. We’ve got a job to do.”

Luckily, he’d had the foresight to load the portable fencing in his truck that morning, knowing the goats would need an enclosure. As he began to unload it, Becket ran through his mental checklist. He knew from experience that his herd could clear about a quarter acre per day if the vegetation wasn’t too dense. Looking at the overgrown field before him, he estimated it would take at least a week to make a real dent.

“Okay, gang,” he said, addressing his herd of nannies, billies, and kids as he set up the first section of fencing. “Here’s the deal. We’re going to tackle this place in sections. Can’t have you eating everything in sight on the first night, or we’ll be out of a job before we start.”

He raised an eyebrow as the goats bleated back. “I know, I know. You’re all overachievers. But trust me, pacing ourselves is key here.”

As the sun began to set, Becket finished setting up a modest enclosure, enough to keep the goats busy for the night without decimating the entire property. He would move the fencing each day, which would allow the goats to systematically clear the land.

“There we go,” he said, stepping back to admire his work. “Home sweet home, at least for tonight.”

Becket let out a contented sigh as he watched them, pride swelling in his chest.

Despite everything, there was something deeply satisfying about seeing his herd do what they did best.

As the last light of day faded and stars began to twinkle above the overgrown field, Becket allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. This wasn’t where he’d expected to end up, but then again, life had a way of throwing curveballs.

“Well, gang,” he said, watching his diverse herd settle into their work, “looks like we might just have a shot at this after all. Let’s show Silver Springs what a bunch of goats can do.”

He patted Daisy’s side. “And you, mama, let’s get through this job before you decide to add to our workforce, okay?”

As he set up his own modest camp for the night, a glimmer of hope sparked in Becket. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And who knew? Maybe by Christmas, this crazy scheme of his might just turn into the gift he and his goats so desperately needed.

“Merry almost-Christmas to us,” he said as the goats munched, their chewing filling the night air. “Here’s to new beginnings, one weed at a time.”