Kate Hoffmann - The Mighty Quinns - Dermot-Dex

She walked to the bedroom door and took one last look at her nephew. He was family. And though she’d once thought she’d lost most of her family, she realized that wasn’t true. She had two nephews and a sister who needed her. And she intended to do everything she could to make their lives happier.

DERMOT STOOD BACK and watched as Trevor guided a goat into the milking stanchion. “There you go,” he said. “You’ve got it now. Show her who’s the boss.”

Trevor locked the goat into the stanchion, then stepped away, a smile on his face. The goat bleated, the sound startling the boy. He jumped back, then turned to Dermot. “Did I hurt her?”

“Nope. She knows what she’s supposed to do. But goats can be stubborn and willful. They’re very clever, too. I was standing next to one of the goats a few days ago, and before I knew it, he’d eaten a hole in my shirt.”

“Don’t they eat everything?” Trevor asked.

“Pretty much. You have to be careful to keep the extra feed out of their way. They’ll overeat and then they get bloat, which can be pretty serious. They’ll find a way to crawl over a tall fence if they think it means more food. We lock everything up. That’s very important.”

As he explained some of the rules to Trevor, Dermot realized how much he’d learned about goat farming in a very short time. Rachel could leave Clover Meadow in his hands and he’d be able to run it on his own. He smiled to himself. Maybe he could treat Rachel to a day off before he left for good.

“How’s it going?”

Rachel and Taylor walked in the door of the milking parlor, dressed in their rubber work boots. She walked over to Trevor and pointed to his brand-new John Deere hat. “I see Eddie has given you the proper uniform.”

Trevor nodded, then grabbed another hat from a nearby shelf. “Here, Taylor, this one’s for you.”

The younger boy put on the cap, then stood waiting for instructions. “Go ahead,” Dermot said. “You show him what you learned. You know what you’re doing.”

Dermot moved to Rachel’s side and watched as the boys brought the next ten goats into the milking parlor and locked them into the stanchions. Eddie then guided them through the steps on how to attach the milking machines, and by the time they got to the last goat, the first one was ready to move out the opposite door.

The two boys fell into a good pace and Eddie glanced over at Dermot and gave him a wink. “They learn a lot faster than you,” he said with a grin.

“They had a better teacher,” Dermot shot back.

“It looks like you’ve been made redundant.”

Trevor glanced between the two of them, a worried expression on his face.

Dermot chuckled then pulled the brim of Trevor’s cap over his eyes. “Hey, I’m happy to pass my responsibilities on to these two. I can spend more time putting those new downspouts on the old homestead.” He grabbed Rachel’s hand and pulled her along behind him, out of the barn and into the evening sunshine.

“Shouldn’t we keep an eye on them?”

“Eddie’s watching them. They’ll be fine. They certainly don’t need all three of us hovering over them.”

“So, I guess we have some free time,” Rachel said. “What are we going to do with ourselves?”

He draped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s take a walk.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just see where we end up.”

She slipped her arm around him and they walked past the barnyard and then turned north, toward her favorite spot on the creek.

“I think they’re doing all right,” Rachel said. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re worrying far too much.”

“This is a lot of responsibility,” Rachel explained. “I’m the adult in charge. What if something goes wrong? What if they… do something bad?”

“Just what would you consider bad?” Dermot asked. “I’m very interested to hear this.”

“I don’t know. What if they get an F at school? Or they get in a fight? Or they swear at a teacher? There are a million things that could go wrong. God, being a parent must be sheer hell. No wonder my sister looked like such a wreck.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Dermot said. “Most people seem to come through it without major problems.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a mother. There’s just too much that could go wrong. I’d be a bundle of nerves.”

He dragged her into his arms and gave her a hug. “Rachel, you would be a fabulous mother.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re kind and compassionate and loving. A child would be lucky to have you for a mother.”

She pushed up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. “Have you ever thought about having children?”

“No, not really. Not until this afternoon. I was talking to Trevor and I was thinking, maybe I could do this. I think I’d have a lot to teach a kid.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be that much different than goats,” Rachel said.

Dermot couldn’t help but laugh. “Really?”

“You know what I mean. Goats can be very mischievous. And they never listen to what you say. And when they get sick they can’t tell you what’s wrong with them, you’re just left guessing. And you spend a lot of time cleaning up after them.”

“Goats are exactly like children,” Dermot teased. “And husbands are exactly like donkeys and wives are exactly like chickens.”

“You have that right,” Rachel said with a nod. She set off across the field.

Dermot caught up to her and grabbed her hand. “So that’s your opinion of marriage?”

“I have no opinion of marriage,” Rachel said. “I think it can be harmful to develop an opinion of marriage before you’ve actually had a proposal. If that ever happens, then I figure I’ll decide what I think.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Do you have an opinion you’d like to share?”

Dermot frowned. Considering her opinion, or nonopinion, maybe it was best that he kept his to himself. “No,” he said. “I haven’t thought much about it.”

“It’s a big risk,” she said. “A leap of faith. I mean, my parents were married for forty-five years. How did they know that they weren’t going to get bored with each other after ten or fifteen years. I buy a sofa that I love one day, and two months later, I think it’s the ugliest sofa on the planet.”

“Now men are no longer donkeys, they’re sofas?”

“I’m just throwing out some analogies,” she said.

“You’re lucky you’re such a good artist, because you suck at analogies,” Dermot said.

Rachel giggled. “All right. Maybe I do. But the thought of mating for life is kind of scary. It’s a long, long time.”

“Penguins mate for life,” he said. “I saw that on Nat. Geo.”

“Eagles do, too. And geese. And swans.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Dermot considering her comments. He’d never met someone he could imagine marrying, until now. In truth, he’d spent more time with Rachel than he had with any other woman in his life. Every day for almost six weeks. Almost every night, too. They were as close to married as he’d ever been and he hadn’t thought once about running.

He raked his hand through his hair, stunned by the realization. In the past, he rarely continued a relationship after a few months. He grew bored and she grew clingy or they both were too busy to pursue anything further. But with Rachel, he’d stepped into her life one day and hadn’t thought about leaving.

Five weeks together and he still looked forward to waking up with her beside him in the morning and falling asleep wrapped in her arms at night.

They reached the creek and Rachel sat down on a grassy spot near the bank. It was the kind of perfect scene that he would remember for a lifetime, the sun gleaming off the wet rocks, milkweed seeds floating on the air, and a sky so blue it hurt to look at it. And then there was Rachel, her pale hair caught up in a haphazard knot and her face flushed from the heat.