Ranger - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,59
reminding myself that I’m alive, as many of my babies as I could manage are alive, and the rest was out of my hands. Ranger’s right. Everything will be okay, one way or another.
That light optimism lasts me until I pull into my driveway and see the pile of ashes that used to be my house. I put the truck into Park, a sob breaking free from my throat at the sight in front of me. My fields are razed to the ground, and every structure that once stood is now nothing more than smoking cinders.
I throw open the door and stumble out of the truck, the sound of PP’s frantic bark little more than background noise as my blood rushes in my ears.
Everything is gone. Every last thing I owned, save for the few items now at Ranger’s, has been turned to charcoal. The house I scraped and saved to buy? Gone. The fence I built and rebuilt by hand? Gone. It’s all gone.
As soon as Ranger’s arms wrap around me, I sink into him, pressing my face against his shoulder and soaking his shirt with my tears. My body shakes with the force of my sobs, his strong embrace the only thing keeping me in one piece.
I’m not sure how long I stand there, getting snot and tears all over my boyfriend, but eventually I calm down enough to register the fact that PP’s bark has changed. It’s no longer the frustrated whine she makes when she’s being prevented from doing something she wants—in this case comforting me. It’s her excited yap. It’s rare to hear in her old age. Rare enough that I manage to wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and pull away from Ranger to see what she’s getting worked up about.
At first, it seems like she’s just being strange. I look around and don’t see anything other than the devastation that met us when we drove up. PP runs a few yards away from us, then comes bounding back, still yipping. I sniffle and use my own T-shirt to dry my face, Ranger’s hand now resting on the back of my neck as he waits stoically beside me.
“What is it, girl? What do you see?” I crouch, sling my arm around her, and follow her line of sight. A flash of purple bobs in the farthest field. My heart jumps, a flicker of hope taking root inside my chest.
“Is that…?” I’m afraid to say it out loud in case I’m wrong, but as the spec of color surges closer and closer, a laugh bubbles from my throat, raw from my tears. “It’s Butler.”
I should’ve known that stubborn goat would be just fine. The cloud that settled over me lifts just as quickly. A house can be replaced, even all the things inside the house can be bought again. If even one of my animals is okay, I’ll take that trade in a heartbeat.
I break into a jog toward Butler. He’s still far enough away that I’m not going to run all the way to him, but I’m too excited to stand and wait. As I get closer, I realize he’s not alone. It was easy to spot him because of the tattered pool noodles still on his horns, but the smaller black goat beside him comes as a surprise.
In spite of his years of animosity, Butler seems as thrilled to see me as I am to see him, and he trots through the field faster and faster until he reaches me. I want to drop to my knees and throw my arms around him, but I doubt he’s grown that fond of me in the span of the last week, so I settle for patting his head.
New tears flow down my cheeks, relieved ones this time. “I’m so happy to see you.” I sniffle and laugh at the same time. “And who’s your friend?”
I turn to the new goat, which is sticking close to my boy, and slowly reach out my arm. He bleats and gently butts against my hand. He’s friendlier than Butler, that’s for sure. “Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll find your family,” I assure him. Butler doesn’t seem on board with that plan, though, getting between us and putting his back to me as he nuzzles his new friend.
Well, okay then. I guess once I find his family, I can see if they’re open to a visitation schedule or something because I don’t think my boy here is going