“How bad is it?” she asked from the porch.

“Um, I guess goats like cardboard,” he said, sending her an apologetic look over his shoulder. “And possibly clothes.”

She stepped inside and gasped. “Oh my God. You have got to be kidding me. How can two little goats do all that?”

“Barry and Beula appear to be the industrious sort.”

The thumping and bleating hadn’t ceased. The sounds were coming from somewhere deeper in the house. Kincaid grabbed the box of animal crackers from Ash and stomped forward. “All right, you little clothes-eating bastards, time to get evicted.”

Ash followed as Kincaid maneuvered her way around the mess and the goat poop in the living room. She cursed under her breath the whole way, muttering threats against the animals. The door in the back corner of the room opened into the kitchen, but she halted so suddenly in the doorway that he almost bumped into her. He grasped the doorjamb to keep from knocking her over and then took in the sight before them.

“Oh my word,” Kincaid breathed.

The kitchen was a disaster, too. One goat, a small one with a black body and white ears, was standing atop the kitchen counter, happily tugging at the dingy curtains hanging from the window. A larger goat, also black but with a white diamond-shaped patch on his head, was standing near the back open doorway like a lookout. He had a piece of chewed-up wallpaper in front of him, a telltale blank spot on the wall nearby. He bleated at them in warning, the obnoxious sound thoroughly conveying how annoyed he was that they had dared enter his space. The female goat, presumably Beula, spared them a glance, gave a small bleat, and then went back to the curtain as though Ash and Kincaid weren’t there.

“You have been very, very bad goats,” Ash said. “The lady of the house is not happy.”

Kincaid stepped forward, and he expected her to try to shoo them out. These two had caused an impressive amount of mess, and Kincaid already had enough on her plate with this house. She didn’t need more repairs on the list.

He followed behind her, ready to provide backup herding. “Be careful. They can bite. Maybe we can try to lure them out with cookies first.”

She turned around, a look of joyful surprise on her face. Absolutely not what he’d expected. She clutched the box of cookies to her chest. “Are they not the cutest things you’ve ever seen in your whole entire life?”

“I—”

“Ash, I have goats!”

He stared at her for a moment and then laughed at the childlike glee on her face. “Yes, on your kitchen counter, eating your curtains and wallpaper.”

“They were hungry. Someone abandoned them. Of course they ate everything in sight.” She turned back to them, focusing on the one on the counter, and opened the box of crackers. “You poor thing. You’re probably starved. Here, Beula, let me help, sweetheart. I’m your new mama.” She held out a cookie and the goat, surprisingly quick, swung her head toward Kincaid and nipped at her fingers, getting cookie and a little of Kincaid in the process. Kincaid snatched back her hand. “Ouch.”