It was a unique attraction that brought in thousands of tourists each summer. Baby goats, piglets, fluffy yellow chicks, and more, Courtney had read. To Courtney it sounded like heaven. She’d rather not go alone.
“Oh, yeah, The Farmstead? It’s popular with the tourists. It’s just a few miles east.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Have you ever been there?”
“No. I haven’t.”
Well, this was awkward. “Oh. Uh…”
Nick ran a hand across the back of his neck a few times. “Doesn’t Kira have to go with you?”
“No, she and Sam went a few weeks ago. But I have to write the story.”
Kira had already done the shots and compiled her video. Sam had done a post on the same farm last summer, but with Courtney coming in to replace him, Beecham thought it would be nice to have a fresh perspective on the place. He’d told Sam to hold off and let the new girl write it.
Kira also had to visit fifteen more hotel properties this week for photos. She didn’t have the time to join Courtney.
Nick nodded.
He can’t take a hint, can he? She’d better open the door a little wider.
“So, I was just looking for someone to go with me. I’m supposed to immerse myself in these little outings as a traveler—not just ask questions of the owner. And I’d have an easier time writing about it from the authentic visitor’s point of view if I went with someone, because I doubt most tourists go there alone.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” A little grin cropped up on the side of his mouth. “Oh, so you’re asking me to go there with you?”
Bingo.
“Uh, well, yeah, if you have some time this week? I have to turn in the story by Friday.”
Courtney held her breath.
“I’m actually off this Wednesday. Would that work?”
It wasn’t like Courtney to ask a guy out. But this wasn’t a date. Tell that to the butterflies throwing a rager in her stomach.
She threw her mini backpack over her shoulders, stuck a hand in the back pocket of her denim short shorts, and leaned against the trunk of her Camry. Nick would be there any minute.
But again, it wasn’t a date, she reminded herself. She had an assignment, and he could help her complete it. What she’d told him was true. She did need to visit The Farmstead like a typical tourist would. She could’ve done it on her own, but they didn’t want the solo traveler’s perspective for a family destination like this.
Courtney looked around. A long red barn lined the front of the parking lot. Historical cabins and a woodshed flanked it on the left. She could see horse stables and what looked like a vegetable garden from a distance. A sign near the road read “The Farmstead: A Living Museum of Rural America.”
The farm was located in the agriculturally rich interior of the Door County peninsula. On the way here, she’d passed orchards and vineyards. It was a beautiful drive. And The Farmstead seemed to be thriving.
She realized she didn’t know what kind of car Nick drove then turned as a shiny black Jeep pulled into the farm’s parking lot. Nick was at the wheel.
Wow, he looked good in a Jeep.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Courtney said, trying not to swoon as he walked up. Boy, if he didn’t rock a pair of jeans and a blue shirt, too. The slip-on sneakers were a nice touch.
“Doing great. How about you?”
Oh, that smile. She was officially in trouble.
A tall, old-fashioned windmill stood in the center of the large barnyard. Courtney squinted and gazed up at it. The late morning sun was warm, and the sky a cloudless, bright blue.
The barnyard had a wide-open feel so visitors could mill about and interact with the animals, many of which wandered freely about the grounds. Small children chased chickens and lambs while parents, phones at the ready, chased the children.
The barnyard was divided into chicken coops and turkey sheds, another smaller barn, a little silo, a milk house, and another stable. Most of the buildings were a charming cherry red.
Courtney was like a kid in a candy store.
Nick motioned toward the tiny goats. “I’ve never seen anything so cute in my life. Look at them.” He held up the bag of food he’d purchased at the gift shop entrance. He pulled out some feed and scattered a little on the ground. Almost instantly, three baby goats moved in and started to nibble.
Courtney squatted down to pet the white one. “Oh, my gosh: I’m so in love.”
Nick squatted down and called to the goats. “Here you go, kids. Come and get it.”
“Excuse me—did you just call these goats your children?”
“What?” Nick laughed. “Baby goats are called kids. Come on, you knew that?”
“Oh, that’s right. I did know that. Did you know a baby kangaroo is called a joey, by the way?” Courtney stood up and Nick followed.
“I did, actually. Did you know another name for a baby goat is a billy?”
“I did not know that one. But now the fairy tale makes more sense. ” She wiggled an eyebrow at him. “You’re like a walking Wikipedia.”
Nick stood up, too. “Hey, I’ll teach you all the words I know for livestock. Just ask.”
Courtney grinned again. “Are there really that many?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“And where did you acquire all this knowledge? I took you for a city boy.”
“Oh, I’ve done my share of country living. Give or take.”
Courtney handed one of the goats some hay and waited for Nick to go on. The goat took it and chewed.
“No, seriously, I’m lying. I grew up in the suburbs and spent a lot of time in Chicago. Almost everything I know about farm animals comes from television and grade school.”
Courtney made a face. “Hey, at least he’s honest.”
Nick laughed.
They went to see the piglets next. Some were nursing while others roamed about small, fenced-in pens inside the barn, grunting and shaking their little behinds and looking altogether adorable. Courtney reached down to pet one, but it was quick and dashed away before she got close.
Outside, Nick grabbed some hay from a bucket. He held it out and clicked his tongue and an enormous, chocolate-brown steer ambled over. It took the hay from him through the rail fence and chewed. Nick patted it on the snout and Courtney snapped a picture.
“You may be a city boy but you look like a natural here. Should I start calling you Farmer Nick?”
“I might answer to that.”
Courtney grinned.
Nick picked up another handful of hay and fed it to the steer.
They popped into the stables next and Courtney let out a quiet squeal. “Oh, my gosh—kittens!”
There were kittens of all shades. Children and their parents were holding most of them while other kittens played on little platforms of varying heights.
Courtney found a black one with white markings on its nose and ears and gently picked it up. Tucking it close to her chest, she let out a long, contented sigh. “Okay, now I’m really in love.”
Nick kept a straight face. “Are you telling me that goat kid back there was just a passing thing?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”