“I see. You’ve never been married?”
“Was. A long time ago.”
“Kids?”
“Nope.”
“So now you’re a bachelor. You give all of your love to your llamas or maybe your old horse or an unwanted dog?”
He turned to her, unable to stop a smirky grin. “Touché. I want you to know I was sorry as soon as I said that. I was a little uptight that day. Guess anxiety overloaded my brain. As for my animals, they don’t need much from me. Food, water, a clean, safe place to be. And I give them attention if they’re sick or hurt. That’s about all most animals need from us humans.”
“A few years ago, I might’ve agreed with you, but I have a different attitude now and I can’t help it. After the experiences I’ve had with SPCA and We Love Animals, the day will never come that I don’t think of animals—all animals—with affection.
“I even love those dumb chickens and they love me back. I’ve been able to teach Anastasia to count to three using a wooden block with spots on it. Sophie comes when I call her. She lets me hug her and she nudges my cheek with her beak. They have beating hearts and personalities and on some primitive level, we communicate, which is more than I can say about a lot of people I know.”
He grinned. “Whoa. You’re not soured just on men. You’re pissed off at the whole human race. What would a mere man have to do to sweeten you up?”
She laughed, shocking him. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe feed me a good steak and glass of wine.”
At least she was trying. As long as he didn’t give up, he might be able to make something come of meeting her.
When they reached the barn, the llamas stood by the fence, watching them and waiting to be fed. “There’s Harry and Albert, waiting for supper,” he said.
“Other than shear them, what do you do with them?”
“When I’ve got young calves, I put them out with the cows to fend off predators.”
“Really? They do that?”
“That’s what my neighbor used them for. They’ve done it for thousands of years in South America. Down there, the people even use them for meat.”
“Ugh. I can’t imagine that. They look so sweet.”
“It’s all in what you’re used to. Llama meat has been tried in a few grocery stores in the western states. They say the taste is somewhere between lamb and beef. The meat is lower in cholesterol than beef. It’s also considerably cheaper than beef these days.”
“Your neighbor who abandoned them, was it the same neighbor who was going to shoot a litter of puppies and a helpless old dog?”
Nick couldn’t keep from smiling. “The same one.”
“People,” she grumbled and shook her head. “What happened to him?”
“The neighbor? He’s an old guy. He sold his cattle and moved into town. Left the llamas to get along by themselves until somebody called the sheriff.”
“I’m glad he’s gone. I wouldn’t like Waffle living next door to someone like that. He might decide to shoot him.”
Nick chuckled. “If that happened, he’d have to shoot me, too. His place is for sale. I’m trying to put together the financing to buy it. Look, I’m gonna feed the horses real quick, then I’ll feed the llamas. Want to go with me?”
“Can I pet Harry and Albert? I’ve never been close to a llama.”
“Sure. They’re gentle-natured. That’s Harry by the fence.”
Chapter 20
Nick disappeared into the barn, leaving Sandi to her own thoughts. He hadn’t copped to sleeping with Sylvia, but he hadn’t denied it.
...I meant it when I said I haven’t seen her in a long time....
In his world, how long was a long time?
Mental sigh. What more could she expect from him? He was, after all, just a man with feet of clay like all the others. Well...not quite like all the others.
This visit wasn’t going well and it was her own fault. Why hadn’t she left her attitude back in her store? Waffle was no longer hers to be bitter over and she had no right to feel jealousy over Sylvia.
Harry stood watching her and blinking at her. She walked closer to the fence. “Hi, Harry. Are you friendly?”
The llama didn’t move, only continued to blink at her and chew on something with his weird protruding lower teeth. He had one hellacious underbite.
“Love your color,” she said to him. “And those eyelashes.” Sandi carefully put out a hand, intending to pet his head. All at once, a shower of something stinking and repulsive hit her face and front. “Aieee!”
Harry startled and trotted to the other side of his pen.
Paralyzed in place by a god-awful smell that filled the air around her, she raised her hand and wiped away oozy green liquid. “Oh, my God! What is this...this crap?” She broke into a wail.
Nick rushed over, a bucket of something in each hand. “What happened?”
She blurted out a sob. “He’s—he’s sick or something. He threw—threw up on me.” She flung her hand, trying to rid it of the mess on it.
“It’s spit. They spit when they’re annoyed or hungry.” He set his buckets on the ground, yanked his handkerchief out of his back pocket. “What did you do to him?” He clasped her chin and began wiping her face. “Close your eyes.”
“I didn’t do anything to him,” she sobbed, her eyes squeezed shut. “You said he was friendly.”
“He is...usually.” He stepped back. “You can open your eyes. I think I got it all.”
“It still stinks,” she whimpered. “It’s worse than a skunk.”
“They’ve got three stomachs. That stuff was green, so it must come from his third stomach.”
“Oh, my God. I think I’m going to throw up myself.”
“Swallow. Take some deep breaths.” He made a few swipes at the jacket she wore. “If they spit from their first or second stomach, it’s mostly just spit and it’s not too bad. But what comes out of their third stomach is gross.” He looked over his shoulder
