this.”
Knox was the city manager who generally thought the petting zoo was a damned nuisance. Especially with the escaping goats and now the herding dog. And the Goat Bingo. And…okay, all of it.
There was also increased traffic from the uptick in visitors to the town and all of the issues that went along with that including more accidents, traffic flow problems, complaints from the locals about the noise and crowds, overflowing trash and recycling bins. His list of complaints went on and on.
In fairness, a lot of the complaints were things he heard about from citizens. But Knox also liked to think ahead to all the things that might happen as well. Goats escaping and crossing one of the main roads and causing accidents was definitely on his list. Having it come true was not going to make his day.
“Maybe we don’t tell him. No harm, no foul.”
Michael squinted at Zeke in the dark. “No harm? Your bike looks beat up and I think you’re bleeding.”
Zeke touched his temple again. “I’m a Landry. It’ll take a lot more than a shot of pavement to the head to do any damage.”
“I’m going to take a look at it,” Michael said firmly.
“You want to shine a light in my eye and ask me to say the alphabet backwards?”
“Yeah, I kinda do. And I wouldn’t mind putting a butterfly suture on that thing.”
Zeke glanced at the woman who had caused all this trouble. Well, okay. The goat in her arms had caused trouble…okay, the goat across the street that was in love with Griffin that this goat had been following had caused the trouble…but she’d been the one to call 9-1-1, for fuck’s sake.
Zeke sighed. But now that Michael was here, he knew the paramedic wasn’t leaving without checking him out. “Fine.”
He followed Michael to the truck and let his friend shine a flashlight over his face and ask his questions. Finally, Michael cleaned him up and taped a couple of white strips across the gash on his forehead and told Zeke he was probably concussion-free but what signs to watch for over the next day or so. Then he determined that Zeke didn’t use his common sense much anyway so it didn’t really matter if he’d lost a few IQ points.
Michael was hilarious.
Zeke was surprised to find the woman still standing there holding the goat when they were finished.
“You want Michael to take a look at the goat, cher?”
She shook her head. “He’s fine. I’m just hanging onto him so he doesn’t go wandering out into the street again. You said whoever responded to the call would take him and his friends back to the barn.”
Zeke looked at Michael, who was watching at him with both eyebrows up.
“I did say that.”
“And why would you say that?”
“Animal control isn’t in your job description?” Zeke asked with a grin.
“You know damned well that when I’m on call almost everything falls into my job description,” Michael said.
It was true that small town job descriptions definitely overlapped and there were a lot of blurred lines, especially when it came to emergency services.
Michael was a firefighter and paramedic, but he showed up to help break up bar brawls and had definitely herded a few goats in his time. A couple of months ago, he’d helped search for two fishermen that had gone missing on the bayou. Last year he’d helped run some illegal arms dealers out of town with Zander. And he’d definitely wrangled a few gators. He’d even been in on trapping a couple black bears and relocating them when they decided they’d rather hang out in the city limits for an extended period.
“Would you like some help?” the woman asked.
Obviously she was comfortable handling the goat.
“Any time a beautiful woman wants to do something for me, I’m inclined to say yes,” Michael told her. He even tipped his hat to her. Like literally tipped his hat.
Zeke rolled his eyes.
He knew that the women of Autre found Michael LeClaire handsome and charming. Zeke had been hearing about it since they’d all hit puberty.
Michael was an Autre boy born and raised, and though he was a couple years older than Zeke and Zander, Zeke had spent plenty of time around Michael and his family. Their grandfathers were best friends, and their families knew each other well.
The black man stood six-two, had a quick, easy smile, and an even easier Louisiana drawl. He also peppered his speech with French, learned from his grandparents, that made women swoon. It