How had a goat gotten up there? He must be stuck.
I let myself in the gate, found a barrel, and rolled it toward the tree. After shoving on it to make sure it felt strong enough to hold me, I climbed onto it, then jumped to catch hold of the tree limb. Graceful did not describe my climbing skills. It was a good thing no one was around to see this.
The goat bleated at me. That was the word I couldn’t think of earlier. Bleated.
“I’m coming. How in the world did you get up so high?” Dangling from the limb, I inhaled before swinging my leg up. The first attempt didn’t end in success. But the second attempt was better. With one leg on the lowest limb, I scooched my body up. It took a bit of work, but once I was on the branch, I shifted toward the trunk and looked up.
The goat was another two limbs up.
I could do this.
With my arms wrapped around the trunk, I shinnied up even with the goat.
“I’m almost to you.” I wriggled my way out onto the limb. “Come over here, and I’ll help you down.”
That creature looked at me like I was made of bubbles. He hopped from one branch to another, and in no time, that goat was on the ground and running for the gate I’d failed to close.
I had a feeling Clint was not going to be pleased.
But that was the least of my worries. I was up in the stupid tree.
Working my way backward, I stopped when the branch creaked. I was a long way from the ground. But I couldn’t stay up in the tree. Moving slowly, I inched back. When I reached the trunk, I clambered down to the limb below me.
After a short pause to get my bearings, I started descending again. Just as I made it close enough to the barrel to drop onto it without killing myself, those blasted goats knocked it over.
“Hey! Put that back.” As if I had any chance of changing their minds by hollering at them. “I won’t forget this!”
Besides, it wasn’t like they could get the barrel upright again.
I hadn’t even counted to know how many goats I’d just let loose.
Without the barrel, there was no way I was getting out of this tree without turning an ankle or breaking a leg. I needed help.
Had it been twenty minutes yet?
I’d managed alone so far in life, and since I planned to run this place by myself, I needed to start acting like it now. I wrapped my arms around the large tree limb, interlocking my fingers on the top side. Then I let one leg slide off the branch. The other leg followed even though I wasn’t quite ready.
My arms scraped against the bark, and my fingers started to slip apart. This wasn’t good.
Hanging from the tree like a monkey, I focused on keeping my hands joined. Not falling was my goal. Forget trying to do everything on my own. I needed help.
A door slammed, and I hoped it was Clint . . . or anyone tall enough to get me out of the tree. Looking back over my shoulder, I spotted the goats ratting me out. They ran up to him, bragging about how they were out of their pens.
Barrel-chested, the man towered over me by about fifteen inches. That was a guess since I’d only met him once. But I’d paid attention.
He had a boyish face, but that was the only boyish thing about him. The rest of him was all man. Big strong man.
Why was I thinking about that now? But gosh, those fifteen inches were going to come in handy.
Just shy of fifty, I wasn’t in the market for a special someone. However, I could see. And Clint was pleasant on the eyes. It was easier to think about him than my predicament.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “How’d y’all get out? Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.” He glanced around. “Mrs. Sparks?”
“It’s Miss Sparks. There isn’t and never was a Mr. Sparks. I mean, my dad was Mr. Sparks, but, you know what, just call me Joji. That’s short for Georgia Jean. My mama called me that when I found trouble, or more often, when trouble found me.” Why was I saying all this? I should’ve been shouting for him to get me down.
He broke into a run. “Why are you in the tree?” His pace slowed as he entered the fenced area. “You goats, back in the pen.”
They obeyed.
Then he closed the gate. I’d have to remember that trick.
I smiled as he sauntered toward me. “I climbed up here to help a goat down. Turned out, he didn’t need my help, but then the fool goats knocked over the barrel.”
One side of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “Well, Georgia Jean, seems to me you found trouble.”
“Are you going to laugh at me or help me down?”
“Both. Are you about to fall?”
“Who said anything about falling? I’m just hanging around.” It was hard to act indignant dangling from a tree limb.
“Aren’t you a funny one?” He stepped right below me. “Didn’t I say that if you arrived before I got here to just wait for me?” His tone was a little condescending.
“I am waiting. Is waiting up in a tree so strange?”
“Yes.” He grabbed my boots, then slid his hands up over his head until he had me just below the hips. Looking up, he stared at me. “All right, Trouble, this is what you’re going to do. Let go of that branch, and I’ll catch you.” He widened his stance.
“Did you just call me Trouble?”
He nodded. “If you can ease down, I’ll work you toward the ground.”
“Here goes.” I pried my fingers apart, hoping to keep hold of the branch and lower myself until he had a good hold. But as soon as my hands disconnected, my arms slid across the bark, and I plummeted.
He grabbed my legs.
I braced my hands on his shoulders, and slowly, he shifted me closer to the ground.
Did I mention his chest? If I hadn’t noticed it before, having my entire body slide down the front of him made that broad manly chest very noticeable.
If I were feeling extra mischievous one day, I’d climb the tree again, just to have him help me down a second time. But first I needed to give the scratches on my arms time to heal.
Just before my face collided with his hat, I lifted it off his head.
His head jerked up, and I stopped sliding. Face to face, we stared at each other.
This was not how I expected my adventure to start.
“I’ve held kittens that weighed more than you do.” He glanced at his hat in my hand. “Be careful with my hat.”
