minutes and twenty-three seconds, thank you very much. If Val had been just two minutes later, she’d have been born after midnight and we’d have had different birthdays.”
I come around the truck to join her, and we walk together along the dust-blanketed path to the barn. “Cooper and I have birthdays only three days apart, but there’s six years separating us.”
That used to feel weird when we were kids, but our mom always made sure we got separate cakes and parties with all our friends. That we were made to feel special.
A few months after Andrea and I got engaged, she threw a huge surprise birthday party for Coop and me. Cooper had a blast and landed in the tabloids for public drunkenness. I worked late and spoiled the whole thing, promising I’d be home in an hour, then two hours, then three.
Eventually, Andrea gave up on me. Not just the party, but all of it.
I can’t say I blame her.
We’ve reached the door of the barn now, so I shake myself out of that dark place and knock on the door with Vanessa behind me. I can hear rustling inside and the bleating of sheep or goats or whatever the hell makes that noise.
Then Tia Nelson swings into the doorway wiping her hands on her jeans. Her dark hair is braided off to the side, and she smiles warmly when she sees us. “Good timing, I was just finishing up feeding.”
Vanessa steps forward, eyes saucer-wide. “What are you feeding?”
Tia laughs and sticks her hand out, and Vanessa shakes it automatically. “Chickens, cows, goats, you name it. I’m Tia. Tia Nelson.”
“Vanessa Vincent. I’d love to see your animals.”
That earns an even bigger smile from Tia, who is damn serious about every living thing on this ranch. “Come on.” She turns, dark braid swinging. “Most everyone’s outside right now, but I’ll give you a barn tour first.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
Vanessa and I follow, hustling to keep up with the quick stride of Tia’s dirt-caked boots. “I just finished feeding most of the livestock,” she calls over her shoulder. “Maybe you want to help with the dogs?”
“Yes, please.” Vanessa flashes me a celebratory fist pump, and I laugh in spite of myself. “I know we’re here to talk crop yield and livestock units, but this is all part of it, right?”
“Absolutely.” Tia nudges a door with her hip, leading us past a pen filled with the tiniest goats I’ve ever seen. “Those are Nigerian Dwarf goats,” she says. “Very friendly.”
Vanessa gasps. “They’re so cute.”
“They produce a huge volume of milk for their size.” Tia stoops to scratch a tan and white goat behind the ears. “We’re making cheese next week if you’d like to come watch.”
“I’d love that.” Vanessa’s bright cheer makes it obvious she really means it.
“Great.” Tia beams. “I love showing off the farm to folks who really have an interest.”
“Oh, I do.” Vanessa leans in and rubs a little black and white goat between its nub antlers. “You have Saanen, LaMancha, and Toggenburgs as well, right?”
Tia doesn’t mask her surprise. “You’ve done your homework.”
“Always,” Vanessa says, and it’s all I can do not to high-five her. “Sounds like there’s been a high demand lately for the Saanens.”
“It’s the high milk yield with low butterfat content.” Tia turns and keeps walking, pausing to stroke the neck of a shaggy donkey. “The health food junkies can’t get enough of it.”
She leads us down another row of stalls. This section of the barn is quieter and smells different. Straw crunches underfoot, and a cow moos somewhere in the distance. “Roughneck is down here. We’ve been slowly introducing him to people so he’s ready for adoption. You can help feed him.”
“Roughneck?” Vanessa stops walking as Tia halts in front of a pen.
“He came in as a stray a few months ago,” Tia says. “He’d been on his own a couple years with this ratty old mesh collar embedded in his neck.”
Vanessa gasps. “What? How?”
There’s a flash of fury in Tia’s eyes. “Someone put the collar on him as a pup and then abandoned him.”
“That’s awful.” Vanessa’s blinking hard, and my urge to comfort her is overwhelming. “People can be so cruel.”
“It was pretty infected by the time we got him.” Tia reaches into a cupboard and pulls out a dish that’s already filled with kibble. “I called in a favor with a vet who operated and got him fixed up.”
“Thank God.” Vanessa peers over the edge of the stall, and I step up beside her