Title: Chevre`
Summary: Edward has braced himself for a couple years of boredom as he gains full time experience as a deputy sheriff in this map dot of a town. Because nothing interesting ever happens in a small town, right?
Pairing: E/B
Rating: M
Word Count: 3,700
"Goatsonreevesroad, out"
Edward shook his head at the two way radio. It sounded like something about goats, or maybe it was another joke. Yesterday Sheriff McCarty gave him directions to turn left at the third traffic light. Trouble was, the town only had two traffic lights, and he was twenty miles into the mountains before they called him back in.
He knew being a deputy sheriff in a small town would be different than being a cop in a large city, but it was the only full time position he could get. It was a catch 22, you needed full time experience to get a full time job, but no one would hire you until you had full time experience. In three years as a part timer in the city, he'd seen many returning veterans hired over him into full time positions. He agreed, they deserved it, but he couldn't hang around with no benefits and no certainty if he was going to be working the next week. He figured a small town would be boring, but he could put up with it for a year or two until he landed a full time job back in the city. He didn't mind the endless farms and the trees and the winding roads, he actually liked his four wheel drive Explorer patrol vehicle, but he was getting a little sick of the new-guy jokes, especially since he slipped on one of the hundreds of Ping-Pong balls that spilled out of his locker this morning. He had no one to complain to since his boss was the one pulling the pranks. How many adults think putting salt in someone's coffee was funny? Edward had yet to go on a legitimate call. He wondered if after years of this he'd turn into an idiotic prankster like his boss. He made a mental note to keep following up on those job openings in the city.
Edward squeezed the hand set, "Dispatch, Repeat, over"
"Goats on Reeves Road and State Highway 47." The dispatcher sounded annoyed, but maybe if she'd spoken a little slower the first time, he'd have understood. The urban police force where he'd been on temporary assignment automatically sent the coordinates for a call. No such luck here. Of course, he'd never been sent after goats in his old job either. He typed in "Reeves Road", but nothing came up on the GPS unit.
"Dispatch, No address found, over." He was ninety nine percent sure this was a joke.
"For Pete's sake, the dirt road after Tanner's old farm stand, not the new one by the gas station, over."
"Dispatch, I don't know where the old farm stand is, or was. This is only my third day, over."
He waited, expecting the sheriff to come on the line and bust out laughing again. Instead the dispatch operator came back on, speaking slowly for a change. "Alright Deputy Cullen. Where are you, over."
"Heading East on Highway 47, over."
"Turn around and head west until you find goats, over."
He flipped the lights on the four wheel drive vehicle, but not the sirens. The last thing he needed was freaked out goats. The highway wasn't particularly busy, at least not compared to the traffic he was used to, but any accident was one too many. He still expected to find this was all a joke until he saw the brown and white animals, their long ears and tails flapping, standing in the middle of the highway. A burst bale of hay was spread across the yellow line. He wasn't really surprised; on his first day in town he'd followed a tractor pulling a wagon stacked six high, the tottering hay bales listing through every turn. He was shocked none had dropped then.
He parked on the diagonal, blocking half the road. The flashing lights didn't faze the chomping animals. He honked twice. One goat looked up, blinking as it chewed, but the others ignored him completely. He spotted an oval lavender sign by a dirt drive, the only thing indicating that this bit of highway was any different than the miles of woods running on either side. Getting out of the car, he approached the animals, waving them towards the sign. The goats seemed to flow around him, moving out of his path only to dart behind him as he walked.
He tried pushing one by the rear, but it locked its legs and finally twisted out of his grip, then bounced over to join the others. He shook his head in frustration. "Damn it, you're all gonna be road kill!"
He heard an engine in the distance and looked up to see a blue pickup truck racing towards them. Edward grabbed the bale by the rope and dragged the bulk of the hay off to the side of the road. Most of the herd followed. A tiny baby goat stood on the double yellow line nibbling on a single stalk, its big eyes blinking. As Edward stepped towards the small creature, it scampered away, directly into the path of the truck.
"Crap!" Edward dove for the little thing, scooping it up as he ran across the road and into the grass on the other side.
The truck barely slowed, skirting the goats, the driver waving at him and honking before whizzing past his patrol car. He was pretty sure the driver was laughing at him.
The squirming baby was all legs and noise, no doubt complaining that this human was kidnapping her or him, not like Edward had the chance to check before saving its life. A large goat with a fierce look in her eye was pawing at the ground. He was no zoologist, but he could tell he was about to be attacked.
"Hold on Mama Goat, one second." He held a hand out, as if that would keep her from ramming him, and ran across the asphalt, meaning to put the baby down at her feet, but instead he saw that a goat was now on the hood of the Explorer and at least two goats had hopped inside and were chomping on some wires. He diverted to the vehicle. "Hey you two, out of there!"
They clambered away from him, over his laptop and onto the passenger seat where they stood on the brown bag containing his lunch. "Great." Edward ran around, still followed by mama goat and a few of her friends. He now knew what angry goats sounded like as the adults were bleating louder and louder. He opened the passenger door, but the goats were back in the drivers' seat, pawing at something on the dash. "Don't do th—"
Too late. They'd flipped on the siren. He wasn't used to the sound from the outside and covered his ear with his free hand. At least the sound scared the critter off the hood. Waving at the blue eyed goat behind the wheel, he yelled, "Get out, out!" The beasts hopped across the console, pouncing once more on his lunch and knocking it off the seat, then bounded out to the ground.
He reached in, flipping off the siren. His ears were still ringing, the goats were scattered again on both sides of the road and he was ready to call for back up when something black and white flashed by and started barking and nipping at the herd. The dog had its head low, dashing behind the stragglers. The goats shoved into each other like shoppers pushing to get to a bargain until they formed a tight group. The black and white dog didn't stop bounding and yapping until the group was trotting up the dirt road he'd seen earlier.
He was relieved until he realized he still had the baby in his arms. It had nestled into him like a human child. Maybe he could drive up the road with the baby in his car. His vehicle now had several dents in the hood and his bag lunch shredded on the ground, but that seemed to be the extent of the damage. As he closed the passenger door a voice startled him.
"Unhand my kid, sir."
He must have lost his mind, did the mother goat just say something? He turned and saw not a talking goat, but a pair of red cowboy boots, fitted jeans, a white t-shirt and a laughing, brown haired woman.
"How the hell did you get-?" Then he noticed her little red electric car. He hated those quiet suckers, no wonder she was able to sneak up on him. Of course the siren and mad goats contributed.
"My kid please?"
"How do I know it's yours?"
The woman rocked on her heels, and pointed to the sign. "I live here. It's a goat farm. She's my kid."
Edward walked close enough to read the sign. 'Trois Soeurs Chevre.' His one semester of French failed him.
"It means Three Sisters Goat cheese. We also sell goat's milk and soaps." She walked up to him with her arms out. "You must be the new guy. Cousin Emmett usually rounds them up if there's a prison break. Happens almost every week."
He handed over the kid. "Emmett?"
"Sheriff Emmett McCarty."
"Oh. I guess I don't need to file a report then." He bent over to pick up the remains of his sandwich.
She laughed, a full sound, not a girly giggle. "No report needed. What's that?"
He held up the wrecked bag. "It was my lunch."
"Then I have to feed you."
"No, it's alright—"
"No, I insist. How else can I thank you for rounding up my girls?"
He followed her red car up the lane. His truck was brushed by the occasional tree branch and jostled by the odd rut. The drive opened to pastures lined with wired fence, small lavender sheds painted with green trim and a wide open gate. The goats were scattered across the grass inside the fence, the black and white dog standing guard at the opening.
The woman, he just realized he never got her name, got out and was latching the gate. He lowered his window to ask where to park.
She climbed up onto the running board of his truck, her elbows resting on the open window. "I swear if I could teach Moxie how to padlock the gate I wouldn't need people." Her smile, her laughing eyes so close to him were kind of wonderful. He didn't have a chance to speak before she stepped off and waved. "Follow me to the farm house."
The building was a standard rectangle with a couple of dormers and a porch. The colors though, were like nothing he's ever seen. Deep purple shutters, flowers boxes spilling red-yellow-blue flowers, rainbow windsocks, wind chimes made of bells and kitchen utensils and painted on the side of the house: a monarch butterfly, whose orange and black wings must exceed twenty feet.
He couldn't help but stare.
The woman was already out of her car and standing on the steps, which were also embellished with tulips stenciled on each riser. She fluttered her hand in the air as explanation. "My little sister likes to decorate."
Nodding he followed her, looking at the mismatched wicker furniture and sunburst pillows on the front porch. Nothing like his beige and tan apartment.
There were too many things to take in, like a kaleidoscope image, so he failed to notice that she'd stopped until he'd bumped into her. She didn't seem to care, just shook her head a little, putting her hand to her mouth and yelling. "Hello, Rose? Do you know anything about the goats on the highway? Someone called the sheriff's office."
A tall woman in a red negligee slithered around a doorway, long blond hair sliding over her shoulder, one finger playing with her bright red lips. "Oh officer, did those naughty goats get out again while I was napping?" Spotting Edward her eyes went wide. Jumping out of sight back behind the door she shouted, "Who the hell are you? Where's the Sheriff?"
The goat woman seemed undisturbed. "Rose, puts some clothes on and get out here."
Rose poked her head back around the doorway. "What?"
"You need to resolve your issues with Emmett without using our goats. Buttercup almost got creamed."
"Not Buttercup!"
A sudden pounding of a large person hustling up the porch steps has them all turning toward the door. "What's going on here? I heard there was a call. Cullen, what are you doing here?"
"Dispatch sent me." Edward quickly put two and two together seeing that neither of the women were surprised that his boss had burst in.
The sheriff stood to his full height and tugged on his belt. "I'll handle it from here."
The goat woman brushed by the sheriff, ignoring his posturing. "Sorry Emmett, I promised your Deputy I'd replace the lunch our goats ruined."
"That's not necessary B. Cullen, on your way."
Goat woman B crossed her arms. "Cousin Emmett, I was thinking of calling your wife, and thanking her for how often you come here to…tend to our goats."
"Almost ex-wife."
"You know what they say, 'Almost' doesn't count, 'cept in horseshoes and hand grenades."
The sheriff was turning red. "Okay, Cullen can have lunch, but he can take it with him."
Shaking her head Bella answered, "Lunch to stay, on the porch."
Rose peeked around the corner and batted her eyes. "Emmett, I need you to take care of something in my room."
"Right there Rose." The big man rubbed the back of his neck, then pointed at Edward. "Okay, fine, Cullen can eat lunch on the porch, then back to patrol."
The sheriff disappeared behind a slamming door and Edward followed the woman into the kitchen. "I still don't know your name."
"It's Bella." She tapped a picture on the refrigerator door. "You met my sister Rose, this was taken at our birthday party last year. The one with her hands in the cake is our little sister Alice."
"You two twins?"
"No, we just have the same birthday."
"So who's older?"
"Rose. She was born at 3AM. I was born just before midnight."
"But you're not twins?" Edward pondered the situation while Bella washed a bowl of spinach and strawberries. He waited for her to add to the conversation but she darted around the small kitchen, slicing bread and putting it into the oven, then fetching things from the turquoise colored refrigerator. He couldn't take not knowing.
"And Sheriff McCarty is your cousin?"
"Yep."
He didn't know what to say, so he just watched as she tossed a salad with one kind of cheese then spread the hot toast with a different soft cheese. She divided the salad onto two mismatched plates. She nodded towards a cabinet. "Glasses are in there, sweet tea's in the fridge."
He followed her to the porch, pouring them both some tea then chasing an orange cat off the wicker chair before sitting down.
"This is really too much fun." Bella snort-giggled. "Emmet was right, getting some fresh meat around here is just what we needed."
"I'm fresh meat?"
"Emmet was complaining that his old deputies would never write a ticket to anyone who lived around here. Everyone's related by blood or marriage or is your daddy's fishing buddy."
Edward nodded, understanding but not liking the idea that he was forever going to be the 'bad cop' in this town.
Bella chewed, looking over the pastures before she turned to him. "I never thought abouthow much fun it would be having someone new aroundwho didn't already know everyone's stories."
Again, Edward felt he was doomed to be the butt of a million inside jokes. His face must have shown it.
"Don't worry. I won't tease you too bad." She took a sip of her tea, licking away a drop from her lower lip. "And you know every single woman in town has you on their radar."
He considered the containers of chocolate chip cookies, brownies and pies that had been left at his front steps since he arrived. They all had notes with phone numbers and addresses and offers for dinner. He didn't realize they wanted him for the main course.
"Of course I'm assuming you're single." Bella leaned forward, allowing him a better view down her white shirt. "You are single, right?"
He felt like even if he wasn't single at the moment, he'd make it so for her.
He nodded, trying to rearrange his legs to hide the effect she was having on him. Was it the fresh country air? The craziness with the goats? The roundness of this woman, from her apple cheeks, strawberry lip and the ripe melons hidden in her shirt. Everything about her was lush and made him hungry for more than food. Stop it, he chastised himself. You're here temporarily, and getting into it with your boss's cousin was a bad idea. He needed to stick to the facts. "So my boss is your cousin?"
"He's my cousin, but not Rose's. We have the same father but different mothers."
He chewed on his toast, eyebrows raised, not sure if he wanted to step into that cow pie.
She twirled a piece of her long, brown hair. "Aren't you going to ask? Most people want to know how that worked out."
He cleared his throat, trying not to appear too anxious. "I do, but I don't…want to ask if it bothers you."
"Doesn't bother me." She sat back, her tea to her lips. "Our fertile father managed to impregnate the stripper at his bachelor party and his new bride on the same weekend."
Edward swallowed his tea. "So who's who?"
"I'd like to tease you some more, but it's only a matter of time before you find out. I was three when the cops showed up with Rose. Her momma was killed in a car crash. My momma was pregnant with Alice, but she couldn't turn Rose away. From what I'm told Daddy spent a few years in the dog house."
"I bet." Edward imagined what his father would look like if someone showed up with a love child. His mom played college softball and still kept her bat around. "So they had a DNA test done?"
"Momma said no. Daddy's name was on the birth certificate, and Rose didn't have any other family. She would have gone to the state."
Edward nodded, thinking how forgiving Bella's mother must be. "That was…nice of her."
"Family takes care of family round here."
They ate, watching the baby goats rambling and but into each other. Edward didn't want to destroy this bucolic scene, but there was some vital information he needed to know, and he couldn't exactly ask his boss. "Emmett is married to someone else?"
Bella shook her head. "Emmett and Rose were together forever, then they had one of their fights. He took off with a jug of shine, came back three days later with a wife. He claims the marriage was never consummated, his…" Bella cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows, "wife disagrees. She wants to hang onto his sorry ass, and all he wants is Rose."
Curiosity satisfied, Edward felt he needed to swing this conversation out of the hillbilly history channel. He pointed to the pasture. "How'd did you get started with all this?"
"A 125-gal KleenFlo vat, a stainless steel four lever press/drain table, two-curd harps & stir tools; forty forms of various sizes, stainless steel sinks, scales, a vacuum packer, UV light water purifier…"
He stared. She laughed. "Oh that's not what you meant? Gramps left me the farm. Rose created the web site and does all the accounting, Alice designed the packaging, makes the soaps and helps with shipping and corporate accounts."
"And what's your position?" He took a big bite of toast. He couldn't get enough of the tangy cheese.
"I expanded the herd, hired staff, try new recipes." She leaned even closer, until their knees were touching and her hands were braced on his thigh. "But my favorite job is taste tester. And you've got some right here."
Her tongue was on his lips before he could comprehend what she was doing. Her firm touch traced all along his lips then swept inside. He gave no resistance, and started to kiss her back as her hands worked through his hair. His hands were drawn to the curve of her hips, pulling her further onto his lap. He tried to resist, but he had to see if her breast felt as good as it looked. He slid his hand up under her shirt, the warm weight of her overfilling his fingers. He squeezed, then kneaded around to toy with her nipple, rolling it under his palm. She moved away from his lips, allowing him a deep breath, but she didn't resume the kiss. He panted, "What's the matter?"
"There's something hard sticking into my hip."
"I'm sorry, I don't usually react so quick, you're just so—"
Laughing. She's laughing, he thought, never a good sign.
"Your holster is sticking into my hip, not your…" She laughed some more as she stood up, looking down into his lap.
Edward took his hands off her body and started to get up. "I should go back on patrol."
"You should." Bella reached over for the dishes. "Why don't you come back for dinner? Out of uniform. You could help me milking. You surely have the hands for it."
He tried to keep his eyes from her breasts when she mentioned milking. He just nodded and swallowed, hoping his voice wouldn't squeak like a teenager. "What time do you milk the goats?"
"Second thing in the morning."
He was about to ask her what the first thing was when the radio squawked, something about a missing cow.
He thumbed at his vehicle. "I gotta go."
"Hurry back."
He stumbled to the Explorer, licking his lips for the last vestige of taste. Her taste, the cheese, it didn't much matter. He'd be back for more tonight.
Who said small towns were boring?
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