One Hundred Humbugs (Aspen Cove #25)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Becket awoke to goats bleating and the first light of dawn filtering through the worn canvas of his tent. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then it all came rushing back—Ruby’s overgrown yard, his landscaping offer, and the makeshift camp he’d set up for himself and his goats. He glanced toward the nearby trees, where he and the goats were probably the only ones keeping the woods hydrated.

With a groan, he unzipped the tent flap and stepped out into the cool morning air of Ruby’s backyard. The goats were already up, bleating impatiently, eager to resume their feast from yesterday. The yard, which had seemed like an insurmountable jungle when they’d first arrived, was starting to show signs of progress. Patches of neatly trimmed grass peeked out amidst the remaining overgrowth, like islands of order in a sea of chaos.

“Morning, gang,” Becket said, giving Daisy an affectionate pat as he made his way to the makeshift pen. “Ready for another day of five-star dining?”

As if in response, Houdini let out an enthusiastic bleat. Of all his goats, Houdini seemed to be enjoying this landscaping gig the most. The goat had a glint in his eye that seemed to say, “All this food, and we’re not even in trouble for eating it? Best job ever!”

The back door of Ruby’s house creaked open, drawing Becket’s attention. He turned to see Ruby step out onto the porch, and his breath caught in his throat. Even with her hair pulled back in a messy bun and wearing what looked like old paint-splattered overalls, she was a sight for sore eyes. She balanced two steaming mugs in her hands, navigating the porch steps with careful determination.

“Morning, Goat Whisperer,” she called out, her voice still a bit groggy but tinged with amusement. “Did you sleep okay? I thought you might need this.” She held out one of the mugs. “It’s strong enough to wake the dead, or at least strong enough to deal with a herd of hungry goats.”

Becket’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Coffee? You’re an angel,” he said, reaching for the mug with both hands as if it were the Holy Grail. He took a long sip and let out a contented sigh that was almost comical in its exaggeration. “Oh, sweet caffeine, how I’ve missed you.”

Ruby watched his theatrics with amusement. “Wow, if I’d known coffee would get that kind of reaction, I’d have led with it yesterday. Should I leave you two alone?”

Becket grinned over the rim of his mug. “Hey, don’t judge. When you’re living the glamorous life of a goat landscaper, good coffee is harder to come by than you’d think. Last week, I was so desperate I tried to convince myself that chewing on coffee grounds was just as good.”

“And how did that work out for you?” Ruby asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say the goats were not impressed with my breath,” Becket replied with a wink. “This, though? This is heaven. You may have just saved lives with this coffee, Ruby. The goats thank you.”

As if on cue, one of the goats let out a loud bleat.

“See?” Becket said, gesturing towards the goat with his mug. “Daisy agrees.”

Ruby laughed, shaking her head. “Well, I’m glad I could contribute to the cause. Just don’t let it go to your head, Goat Whisperer. I expect those landscapers of yours to work extra hard today, caffeinated or not.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Becket said, taking another long sip of coffee. “With this fuel, we’ll have your yard looking like a golf course by sundown.”

As they stood there, sipping their coffee and watching the goats begin their day’s work, a sense of contentment washed over Becket. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time, not since losing his farm. He snuck a glance at Ruby, wondering if she felt it too—this strange sense of rightness, as though the universe had clicked into place.

“So,” Ruby said, breaking the comfortable silence, “what’s on the agenda for today? More strategic goat placement? Or are we moving on to advanced techniques like synchronized grazing?”

Becket appreciated her newfound enthusiasm for his methods. “Well, I was thinking we’d start with a rousing game of ‘Pin the Goat on the Weed,’ followed by an intense session of ‘Extreme Munching.’ You know, push the boundaries of landscaping innovation.”

Ruby snorted into her coffee. “Oh, of course. How silly of me to think it would be anything less than revolutionary.”

As the morning wore on, Becket guided his goats through the yard, focusing on the areas they’d missed the day before. The sun climbed higher in the sky, beating down relentlessly and turning the air thick and humid. Becket wiped the sweat from his brow, grateful for the caffeine boost that was keeping him going.

Ruby alternated between watching from the porch and disappearing into the house to tackle her own mountain of indoor tasks. Each time she emerged, Becket straightened up a little, attempting to look more professional than he was. It was silly. He was covered in sweat and bits of grass, surrounded by stinky goats. Professional wasn’t in the cards.

“How’s it going, Goat Whisperer?” Ruby called out during one of her check-ins, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

Becket grinned, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Oh, you know, just living the dream. Nothing like spending a beautiful day watching grass ... disappear.”

Just as he was about to elaborate on the joys of goats, a loud crash from behind made them both jump. Becket whirled around to see Daisy looking sheepishly at the remains of what appeared to be an old garden statue.

“Oh no,” Ruby groaned, her hand flying to her mouth.

Becket’s heart sank. This was it. The moment when Ruby would realize that letting a herd of goats loose in her yard might not have been the best idea. He rushed over to assess the damage, apologies already forming on his lips.

“I am so sorry,” he said, crouching down next to the broken statue. It had once been ... well, he wasn’t quite sure. A cherub, maybe? Or perhaps a chubby fairy? Now, tacky porcelain shards littered the overgrown grass. Daisy stood nearby, chewing nonchalantly as if she hadn’t just committed an act of garden vandalism.

To Becket’s utter surprise, Ruby burst out laughing—full-bodied, doubled-over laughter that seemed to bubble up from her soul. “Oh my god,” she wheezed between gales of laughter. “Did you see her face? She looked so guilty! ”

Becket blinked, relief washing over him. “So ... you’re not mad?”

Ruby shook her head, still fighting to catch her breath. “Are you kidding? That thing was hideous. My uncle must have picked it up at a yard sale. Now I don’t have to figure out how to get rid of it without feeling guilty.”

As Ruby’s laughter subsided, Becket joined in. The absurdity of the situation—a goat solving Ruby’s dilemma—was too much to resist. They stood there, laughing together in the middle of the overgrown yard.

When they caught their breath, Ruby wiped a tear from her eye. “You know, Becket, when Marge gave me your number, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I have to admit, this is the most fun I’ve had in ... well, longer than I can remember.”

Becket’s chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with the summer heat. “I aim to please. Landscaping and entertainment, all in one package.”

Ruby’s expression softened, the tension lifting from her face as her eyes crinkled at the corners. It was a nice change from the worried frown she’d worn when he first arrived.

As they settled on the porch steps, Becket relaxed for the first time in weeks. The goats continued their work in the background, providing a strangely soothing soundtrack of munching and occasional bleats. He made a mental note to clean up the shards of the broken statue later—goats weren’t exactly picky, and he didn’t want them mistaking them for a snack.

“So,” Ruby said, taking a sip of her drink, “how does a guy end up in the goat landscaping business anyway? I’m guessing it wasn’t your childhood dream.”

Becket’s expression softened, though a hint of sadness lingered in his eyes. “No. This is a new gig. I had a farm, not too far from here. Goat farm, if you can believe it. We made cheese, milk, the whole nine yards.”

“Wow.” Ruby’s eyebrows shot up. “What happened?”

Becket sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Drought hit. Hit hard. Feed prices went through the roof, and then the land I was renting got sold out from under me. Before I knew it, I was scrambling to keep my herd fed and housed.”

Ruby’s face softened, understanding dawning in her eyes. “That must have been tough.”

“Yeah,” Becket nodded, his gaze distant. “I had to sell most of the herd. Couldn’t bear to part with all of them, though. These guys,” he gestured to the goats in the yard, “they’re like family. So, I had to get creative.”

“And that’s how you ended up in landscaping?”

Becket nodded thoughtfully. “I was looking for a spot for the goats to graze and came across a vacant home. The yard was overrun with weeds, so I contacted the listing agent, Marge Gunderson, to see if we could work something out. One thing led to another, and now I’ve got a whole side gig. It’s a new thing.”

Ruby laughed. “A whole business, just like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Becket said, grinning. “It just sort of fell into place.”

Ruby shook her head in disbelief. “That’s ... kind of brilliant. In a crazy way.”

“Hey, sometimes crazy is all we’ve got,” Becket shrugged.

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the goats work. Becket snuck a glance at Ruby, noticing how the tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders seemed to have eased a bit .

“What about you?” he asked. “How’d you end up here?”

Ruby sighed, twirling her glass in her hands. “Inherited the place from my uncle. I was struggling in Chicago, freelancing and just scraping by. Then, I get this letter saying I’ve got a house in Aspen Cove. Seemed like a lifeline, you know?”

Becket nodded, understanding all too well how desperation can lead to grasping at any opportunity when things got tough.

“But now,” Ruby continued, her voice tinged with frustration, “I’m here, and it’s ... overwhelming. The house is a mess, the yard was a jungle until you showed up, and I’ve got the bank breathing down my neck about credit card payments I can hardly afford.”

“Starting over is never easy,” Becket said.

Ruby tilted her head, studying his face. “Is that what this is for you? Starting over?”

Becket nodded. “Every day. It’s a strange mix of terrifying and exhilarating.”

“I know the feeling,” Ruby said, glancing at the goats as they continued their feast.

As the hours passed, they shared stories about the unexpected turns life took, their dreams, and the fears that came with starting anew. The sun climbed higher, and Ruby’s stomach growled, interrupting their conversation.

“Looks like that coffee wasn’t enough to get us through the day,” Ruby said, laughing. “I’ll try to find something we can eat in the kitchen. It’s the least I can do for all this.”

Becket nodded. “That sounds good.”

Ruby headed back into the house, leaving Becket to finish corralling the last of the goats. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that it had been hours since he had eaten. He wondered what she might dig up from that old kitchen.

A few minutes later, Ruby returned holding two mismatched plates with a spread that was, at best, questionable. “So, here’s what I’ve got—a little peanut butter with crackers. I found some tuna, too, but I wouldn’t recommend it unless you’re up for mystery flavors. One can had corn and carrots mixed in.”

Becket took the plate, chuckling. “Honestly, this beats half the meals I’ve had on the road.”

Ruby plopped down beside him on the porch steps. “Just giving you fair warning, though—no idea how old the peanut butter is, so ... eat at your own risk.”

He took a bite. “I’ve survived worse.”

They ate in silence, but then a breeze swept through, and Becket shivered as the distinct chill of winter crept in. He glanced up at the sky, noticing how it was darkening. “Feels like the weather’s turning.”

Ruby hugged herself against the wind. “Yeah, I was thinking that, too. Do your goats have enough shelter if it gets colder tonight?”

Becket looked over at the herd, now huddled together, content after a long day of grazing. “They’ll be alright for now, but if it drops much lower, I’ll have to think about something better than what they’ve got.”

Ruby looked at him with a hint of concern. “And what about you? That tent doesn’t scream ‘warm and cozy.’”

He shrugged, finishing his last cracker. “It’s not ideal, but the truck cab’s a lot warmer than the tent. I’ve slept in there plenty of times when it gets too cold.”

Ruby glanced at the near-empty plate between them. “Well, I’m not sure this gourmet meal will keep you warm, but at least you won’t be hungry tonight. ”

He wiped his hands. “It’s not half bad, especially since I didn’t have to cook it.”

She stood up, brushing off her hands. “Neither did I. And it was free, which is just about all I can afford right now.”

They both stood, the air now heavy with the promise of a chillier night ahead. Becket glanced at the yard—still a work in progress, but undeniably better than when he first arrived.

“Tomorrow, we’ll finish clearing the weeds out,” Becket said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re making good progress, but there’s still work to do.”

Ruby nodded, glancing around. “You know, your goat method is kind of growing on me.”

He nodded as he gathered his things. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bright and early,” Ruby replied, teasing. “Just don’t freeze in that tent of yours, okay?”

Becket flashed a grin. “I’ll survive,” he said, giving her a nod before turning and heading back toward the edge of the yard where his tent was pitched.

Once inside, he unzipped the flap and ducked in. The cold night air crept in with him, but he ignored it as he settled into his sleeping bag. With a sigh, he lay back, staring up at the tent’s canvas roof. But instead of closing his eyes, he found himself leaning over and peeking out of the tent flap. From his spot in the trees, he could just make out Ruby’s house in the distance. She was planning to sell it, but after a day like today, part of him hoped she’d stick around a little longer.