What a Woman Wants (A Manley Maids Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Martinsons had dabbled in horse breeding, though those assets had been sold off before Merriweather had gotten ill. Pity. Livvy wouldn’t have minded horses, but since she wasn’t keeping the place, it was a moot point.
    “Ya got leashes or anything, ma’am?” the driver asked.
    She shook her head, smiling. “Just let them out. They’ll mind me.”
    They’d heard her voice. The doors swung open to a chorus of grunts and brays and bleats as the mini farmyard version of Noah’s ark emptied into the yard. Kerry was sending the dogs later. They tended to nip the sheep’s heels when excited, and the trip here would most definitely excite them.
    The ram and his ewes rumbled down the ramp, followed by their babies. Her own next generation. How she loved their soft wool coats that would eventually end up matted and dingy like their parents’. She hated that part, but their dingy wool kept them in hay.
    She picked up Buttercup and rubbed the lamb’s cheek against her own. Three days between the trip to the law offices and their arrival here seemed like a lifetime to be apart from her little family. Buttercup bleated and stiffened her legs. Mama Daisy gently butted Livvy’s thigh. “Okay, Dais, here you go. I just missed you guys.”
    The goats kicked out of the truck next, followed by the alpacas. Rhett spat at her, which was not unexpected. He usually spat at her. Scarlett followed right behind him. The
hembra
had become more subservient since Livvy had caught them “in the moment.” Hopefully there’d be baby alpacas this time next year, though with The Inheritance, the price their fleece would bring was no longer the big issue it had been.
    The gaggle of geese and ducks waddled out behind to form their ritual circle around her for their feed. She had to shuffle through to the truck to grab one of the feed bags, but pretty quickly everyone was munching away happily, the squawks giving way to contented pecking. Well, okay, Calypso might have just taken a bite out of Calliope’s wing, but that wasn’t anything new.
    Once the birds settled down, Livvy climbed into the back of the truck. Sure enough, there sat Reggie on his blanket in the crate, his black snout rooting around in the folds. She wondered how many dog biscuits Kerry had hidden there to keep him content for the ride.
    “Come on, Reggie. Let’s get everyone settled.” The potbellied pig snorted at his name, then clambered to his feet, his harness jingling with the bells she’d hung there. Reggie thought he was a cat. And he’d actually learned the stealth of a feline, but, sadly, lacked the grace. The bells warned her before he pounced—on her, on the furniture, the lily pads in the pond back home . . .
    She grabbed a pair of chicken pens, lifting the clucking birds out of the truck, and clicked her tongue to herd the menagerie into their new home before the storms that were predicted for today—and the gray sky attested to—hit.
    The driver, a larger feed bag tossed over one shoulder, opened the barn door, and he and Livvy came to an abrupt halt.
    Someone had filled the barn not with hay, but boxes. Stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes. Floor-to-ceiling, taped and labeled as if it were a warehouse. Wooden crates containing blanketed and shrink-wrapped lumps that looked like furniture filled every stall, and the aisle along the front was cluttered with lawn furniture. Mice would be hard-pressed to find a nesting spot, never mind the menagerie she’d brought.
    “Uh, ma’am? Are there pens around here somewhere for whatever used to be in that barn? I have to get going. More deliveries to make.”
    Pens. Of course. Around back were open-air pens. She’d have to find some tarps to construct a temporary shelter—or grab the bedspread from the Blue Room—but the pens would have to do in a pinch.
    While the driver unloaded the rest of the feed bags onto a stack of benches just inside the barn door, she herded the animals around to the back. Pens