“I’m thinking I need a biography on Albert Einstein.”

“Got it.” I had one. He bought it.

“Also”—he leaned in close—“I need another romance. A love story.”

I thought. “How about a book by Debbie Macomber?”

“Who’s that?”

“She’s a romance writer. Sweet romances. Happy endings.”

“I’ll take it. I still believe in love, you know.” He winked.

* * *

Mr. Jamon came back in the next day. He garumphed.

“I’ll take another book by Mrs. Macomber.” He garumphed again, tapped his cane. “Maybe two more.”

I have many of her books, so it took us a few minutes to figure out which would be best for Mr. Jamon. He was pleased with his choices. “An old man can still be romantic, Evie.”

“Never said you couldn’t.”

He winked at me. “See you next Friday.”

* * *

“Mr. Bob and Trixie Goat are here to visit you again,” Tiala said, smiling.

“What?”

“Your goats. They came to visit you again. I thought you fixed that problem so they couldn’t come to town anymore.”

“They’re out again?” I groaned and stepped out of Evie’s Books, Cake, and Tea and spied my stubborn goats, Mr. Bob and Trixie, right up the street.

When they saw me, their ears perked up and they ran straight toward me with that lanky gait that goats have. The escapees were happy to see me, I could tell.

“I can’t even believe this,” I said. But I could.

How do Mr. Bob and Trixie get out of their pen? How do they know where I work? The only explanation is that I have come by here a few times with them on the way to Marco’s and I’ve gotten out of the car to jet into the bookstore for a minute. But I have no idea how they know how to get to my bookstore. We are close to town, but not that close.

Their goat home is a mini-house. It has a blue roof and sides and an opening. It is very cute and welcoming. I make sure they have fresh hay. I make sure they also get carrots, sunflower seeds, and pumpkin seeds, which they love. When I am at home I often let them out to wander our property and peek in the pond and prance over my grandma Lucy’s wooden bridge, because I know they won’t leave and they like to visit Virginia Alpaca and Alpaca Joe. Plus, they are fascinated by Sundance and Butch and Cassidy, and the five of them will play around like best friends. So why leave home?

But there they were, heading down the street to my bookstore, with that odd gallop-skip. I put my hands on my hips as I watched, people laughing, moving out of the way, kids pointing. Their bells jangled.