Page 55 of Wild Heart
Marcos nodded. “I’ve read all about them, but I’ve never had the chance to make a trip.”
“Would you like a tour? I’d be happy to introduce you to some animals before we head over to meet the goats.”
My boy's eyes flashed, and he dropped to the ground, kicking up dirt as he landed on both feet. His hand took hold of mine, and though I was over a hundred pounds heavier, he did his best to drag me behind him.
Austin pointed as he walked us through the farm, gesturing toward open fields and the animals that wandered through them. He’d given me the same sort of speech last week, and while I listened for the safety of it all, Marcos was thoroughly enthralled. He kept fumbling a hand at me, making sure I was seeing what he was, but all I really fucking cared to look at was him.
Gaze weightless and jaw slack, there was a calm about him that was only ever present when we were alone. The wistful smile he wore did something to me… sort of slapped me across the face and forced air into my chest until it grew.
Me.
I put that smile there.
It was mine.
“A lot of our visitors come alongside clinicians and psychologists on a part-time basis. They tend to our animals or spend time in the garden. We have a sun porch off the back of the house that we open up to visitors who use art as a means of therapy. You’re welcome inside any time.”
Austin came to a stop in front of the smaller of the barns, pressing his palm against the edge of the door. It slid open with a screech, and Marcos practically ran inside. The ground was concrete, covered in dark stains and lines of fresh hay. Low, well-built stables lined both sides of the rooms. Most of the gates were unlocked and wide open, a metal bucket clipped to the top rail. They were full of hay and blankets, divided by clear panels so the goats could interact even when they were separated.
Marcos dipped his head into each, frowning each time he came up empty. There were forty-two fucking goats on this farm, and most them were off somewhere, jumping off a wooden structure and rolling around in dirt.
Except for one.
A strong, high-pitched sound reverberated the walls of the barn. Marcos froze and squeezed my hand so hard he was shaking with the effort.
“Is that him?”
The words were soft, barely spoken, like he thought they might disappear if he wasn’t careful.
Tugging him against my chest, I pressed a kiss to his lips and spoke against his mouth. “He’s in the last pen on the left.”
“Thank you,” he breathed right before he took off.
He was halfway there when he skidded to a stop, pivoting on the balls of his feet and running full speed in my direction. Jumping into my arms, he secured his limbs around my body, and next to my ear, he whispered, “I want you to come with me, Papa.”
My boots made a heavy noise when I carried him across the concrete. The closer we got, the faster his chest moved. I used my finger to flip the gate’s lock and tugged it wide open. There, in the center of all that hay was a pygmy goat. Its tongue was sticking out of his mouth, and Marcos laughed when it made another sound.
“That is the cutest animal I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I patted his ass. “He’s yours, Solnyshko.”
Climbing from my grasp, he took two tentative steps across the hay, holding his palm outward. “Hi there,” he said, and the damn thing walked right up to him and pushed its nose against his skin.
“He likes me!” Marcos gasped and dropped to his ass right there on the ground, tugging his new pet into his lap with a smile.
“We’ve been calling him s’mores,” Austin said, resting his elbows against the wooden sides of the pen. “But you can name him whatever you want.”
“Hay Hay.” Marcos announced, brushing a hand down his back. “That’s his name.”
Hay Hay’s fur was an uneven pattern of black, brown, and white. At about a foot tall, he wasn’t very big and likely wouldn’t get much bigger even as he aged.
“Our staff will tend to Hay Hay on the days you aren’t able to visit, but ultimately, he’s yours.”
Marcos looked up, his lip between his teeth. “I’ve read a lot about proper care, but I’m not sure I’m—”
“No worries. Me or another staff member will be with you during your first couple of visits. You seem eager to learn, so I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it quickly.”
“Is he going to be in this pen when I’m not here? I want him to have friends. Goats need that. Companionship.”
