Herd is the Word
Alpaca My Bags Book One
Jenna Lynn Badger
Rabid Badger Press
Herd is the Word
Copyright © 2020 Rabid Badger Press
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To Tom who believed in me from the beginning, and gave me the courage to keep going. A thank you is not enough.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
About Herd is the Word
Excerpt from Shear Terror
Acknowledgments
About Jenna Lynn Badger
Chapter One
Prince Albert roamed his pen, making one last lap before bedding down. It was a cold spring night and the moon was still low in the sky, casting long, eerie shadows in the forest beyond. Snow still dotted the edges of his pen, but most of it was gone, and he had his thick fleece to protect him from the wind that would come with morning.
He gazed out past the nearby barn where the humans kept the hay. Beyond that, his flock rested. He couldn’t see any of his girls, only an empty pen and the stable in which they all huddled, but the female’s familiar scents wafted to him in the night air. As the only male alpaca, it was his job to keep a careful watch for anything that might threaten the safety of his herd.
He had dozens of girls, all different colors. Some were dark, some were light and some had spots, each one beautiful in her own way. None of his females had the desirable white fleece that he had, though. They were all shorter than he was, even Agatha, the dark brown alpaca that took charge of the females when she thought he wasn’t looking. Even she had bedded down for the night.
Seeing nothing to cause alarm, Prince Albert wandered over to the gate and tested it for luck. It was latched solidly this time. He had learned that if he leaned on it hard enough, it sometimes popped open, but it seemed the humans had managed to affix it better this last time.
No matter, he would find a way to escape soon. He should be with the rest of his herd.
Rather than head to his stable, he kushed down on the frozen ground, folding his legs beneath him, and leaned against the fence. The stable was safer, but he was tired of sleeping all alone.
Still, it was good to be a prince. With his belly full, and a certainty that he would smell danger on the wind, he let himself drift into sleep.
A footstep!
Prince Albert lurched to his feet and blinked into the darkness. How long had he slept? He paced along the fence, trying to see through the haze. Should he wake the females? The moon was high overhead now, casting short silvery shadows over everything in his vision.
In a moment, the girls were up anyway, wandering as near to him as they could. They watched him, even Agatha, her dark eyes worried and her ears pricked up. She had heard it too.
He strained to hear anything that might tell him what the noise had been. He would scream if something was wrong. Was it a coyote? Images flashed through his mind of the last time they had seen one of those awful creatures and he shuddered, forcing those thoughts aside. He needed to be brave. The females were counting on him.
He scanned the forest and the large grassy area between it and them. That’s where the last coyote had come from.
Another footstep!
He took a deep breath and held it. His call would hopefully scare off the danger and if not, it would at least wake the humans.
A chill breeze floated through the air, bringing with it a familiar scent. It was a human he knew and recognized.
Prince Albert relaxed, letting out the breath he’d been holding. A shiver ran down his spine all the same. He had been so worried.
Everyone he knew had a recognizable smell, but this one had an unusually pungent stench on their breath. Still, they were a human he and the herd had come to trust. Almost all of the two-legged creatures were taller than he was, but they lacked back legs to give them stability, clearly an evolutionary disadvantage.
He wondered what the human was doing here this late at night. Prince Albert felt hope rise within him. Was it mating time already? Perhaps they would bring one of the females to his pen. He pranced around in excitement. He had fond memories of nights he had spent with one or another of his girls. He wouldn’t have to break out after all.
He stopped his prancing, remembering that humans didn’t usually bring him one of his girls in the middle of the night. But then, you never knew with those strange creatures.
He paced back and forth along the length of fence and watched curiously.
The human walked down the path to the female’s pen and opened the gate. They strode inside, closing the gate behind them. “Well, hello there, ladies, I brought something sweet for you.” The human pulled something from a pocket. It was bright red and white.
Prince Albert instantly knew what it was. He would have smelled it before now, but they had tricky ways of masking the treats they brought.
It was a perfectly ripe Honeycrisp apple, which had been diced so the alpacas wouldn’t choke on it.
He felt a pang of jealousy. Apples were his favorite, especially the red ones. All alpacas knew that the red ones were the best. He stomped a foot in indignation. He was the prince! They should bring the food to him first. He walked over to the gate and put all his weight against it. He would have to escape after all, but it still wouldn’t budge.
In the females’ pen, the apples dropped into the trough of water one by one, making little splashes.
Tentatively, the girls moved forward. A very pregnant Penelope shoved some of the other girls out of the way to get to the apples first. She was always like that, belligerent to a fault, but she would make a good mother when the time came.
The human walked along side Penelope. “That’s it, there you go. You must be terribly hungry. Look at that belly! You really are eating for two, aren’t ya?”
The pregnant alpaca hummed happily, picking the first apple out of the water and crunching away. She soon finished that one and reached for another.
As she was reaching for the second apple, the human snapped a collar around her neck.
What were they doing? Didn’t they know not to use a collar on alpacas? Maybe this human was more foolish than the others. Penelope could be hurt.
She stepped back, recoiling from the sudden change. It didn’t take them long to snap a leash onto the collar.
The other females watched, apples forgotten, ears pricked. Agatha pranced anxiously, and the others clustered together. They watched while one of their own, the most pr
egnant of the herd, was led away.
Prince Albert could not understand this behavior. Why would the human bring him a female that would give birth in only a couple of months? Penelope was not ready for mating. Perhaps if they brought him Mable or Cutie Pie. They were both ready, he could smell the scent on them every time they walked close to the fence.
Always the one to take charge, Agatha placed herself between the human and Penelope, almost getting her neck tangled in the leash. She squeaked and shook her head side to side as she stamped her feet.
The human kept moving back toward the gate, dragging the tangled Agatha along with them.
Prince Albert squeaked in frustration. The two-legged animal clearly didn’t know what they were doing.
Agatha’s feet slid on the ground and Prince Albert worried that she might fall, but the human paused.
“Oh, you want some too?” Another apple slice appeared in their hand.
Agatha looked at them warily.
“Come on, you know you want it.”
Agatha’s eyes narrowed and she snorted her disapproval, but no one could resist the smell of fresh apple slices. After a moment’s hesitation, she moved forward and took the treat from the open hand.
The human patted her neck. “It’s ok, girl. Everything will be just fine.” The human started humming, a sign that everything was ok, and led Penelope to the far side of the pen.
The humming seemed to calm the others. They returned to feeding on the apples which still floated tantalizingly in the water.
Agatha was not distracted, though. She followed, pacing back and forth, restlessly, slowing her displeasure, but the human didn’t seem to notice.
They just closed the gate and continued handing apple slices to Penelope.
Some of the females wandered back to their stable, clearly exhausted. It was well past time to sleep.
Agatha and a few others remained on alert. They watched the human with distrust, ears twitching and squeaking occasionally.
Prince Albert did not see a cause for alarm. They would bring him Penelope and they would all bed down for the night. In the morning, things would be sorted out. He felt his muscles relax as the human pushed open one of the rarely used gates to get Penelope out of the pen.
She paused with uncertainty.
The human tugged on the leash once again, making a strange humming sound. Humans made all kinds of noises but they almost never hummed. Probably they weren’t a very happy herd, but this one seemed rather content at the moment.
Penelope followed after a single glance back at the pens. She began humming along with the human.
Agatha stood watchful as Penelope disappeared around the walls of the stable.
Alarm flooded Prince Albert.
They were going the wrong way! Why had it taken him so long to realize that? The other gate was closer to his pen. Instead of bringing Penelope to him, she was being taken from the herd.
Was the human confused? They couldn’t just take her away! She wouldn’t be happy all by herself, and she was carrying one of his precious cria. Didn’t the human know that?
This was very wrong.
This was almost worse than a coyote. There was only one thing he could do and he feared that he had waited too long to act.
In the darkness, worried for his Penelope and the child she carried, Prince Albert began to cry for help.
Chapter Two
June Winters opened the door to her tiny motorhome refrigerator and peered inside. It was stuffed to overflowing with food. Partly filled zip-top bags and containers with less than an ounce of shredded cheese peered back at her from the darkened recess. A half-filled carton of half-and-half fell off its shelf. June barely caught it before it hit the floor and set it on the fake wooden counter behind her. Other items in the fridge threatened to tumble, but she slammed the door closed before that could happen.
Picking up the bell pepper, she pushed her wavy gray hair out of her face and straightened her glasses while eyeing the cat that had come over to investigate her trials with the refrigerator.
“You would think that after the drive all the way from Buffalo Grove, I would get used to learning to cook with fewer ingredients, less countertop space, fewer specialized utensils, and worst of all, no dishwasher.”
Mr. Bigglesworth blinked. She was a big, fifteen-year-old orange tabby who had been named by June’s children when they were young. Despite June’s best efforts, the kids had refused to call the cat Ms. or Mrs. and ‘Mr. Bigglesworth’ had stuck.
June glanced around her motorhome. The faded vermillion shades were closed against the rising sun. Unfortunately, the shades matched the rest of the ’80s decor. Lately, she had spent many a minute asking herself what she had been thinking when they’d bought the RV nearly three decades ago. Of course, it didn’t have any of the fancy bump-outs that newer rigs had nowadays, making for a cramped living space. What the motorhome had was a lot of fond memories of traveling with her husband and kids. That seemed a lifetime ago, and the RV had gathered dust for years before this adventure.
Mr. Bigglesworth meowed loudly, breaking into June’s thoughts and doing figure eights around her ankles. The cat’s insistency for attention grew with each wail.
“I know you’re there. No sense waking the neighbors.”
She dropped a piece of cheese onto the floor, and Mr. Bigglesworth snapped it up happily.
“You are spoiled rotten, you know that? You’ve already had breakfast and a snack and I haven’t even had my first coffee.”
The cat finished the piece of cheese and looked up expectantly.
“No more cheese.”
Mr. Bigglesworth hopped back onto the bed, tucking herself into the far corner, so that she wouldn’t be bothered when company arrived.
June set a cast iron pan down and began frying up bacon.
“Morning, mom!” Rebecca said, opening the door to June’s RV. Rebecca had her father’s tan skin and short stature. Her dark hair was tousled and June noticed there was a distinct sparkle in her daughter’s brown eyes.
“Morning, sweetie.” June didn’t know how she would have survived the last few months without her daughter.
She stepped inside and gave June a peck on the cheek. “It’s cold out there,” she said, shivering despite the hoodie. The vacation to southern Utah had been Rebecca’s idea, and so far, it had been a refreshing change of pace.
Nathan followed his wife through the door, closing it gently behind him. He kept his dark hair and beard neatly cropped, a far cry from when they had first married. He had the same dreamy look as his wife. Clearly, something frisky had gone on this morning.
June bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. It wasn’t any of her business, but she couldn’t help noticing.
“It smells amazing in here,” he said.
June smiled. “Bacon always smells amazing.”
“It does.” He parked himself at the dinette, turning on his tablet.
Mr. Bigglesworth was nowhere to be seen. The cat didn’t seem to like anyone but June lately. She used to be more friendly with the kids, but the older she got, the more antisocial she became.
“Mom, I know how to cook. You don’t have to handle every meal when we’re together.” Rebecca tried to grab the spatula from June’s hand.
Nathan glanced up, his eyebrows raised. Apparently, this was a conversation he was interested in.
“Nonsense,” said June, batting away her daughter. “You and Nathan drove me all the way here and looked after me for all those months in the hospital. It’s the least I can do.”
Nathan hid a small smile.
June knew he was fond of her cooking. As much as she appreciated the loyalty, she tried not to show up her own daughter in front of him…at least not too much, but it was hard. Her fingers itched to cook. She was a caterer by trade and hopefully after this trip, she’d finally be well enough to return to the business she and her partner had built from the ground up.
Rebec
ca was a much more practical cook, spending less time in the kitchen and more time in front of a computer or out shooting video for their website.
“Do you have any orange juice?” Rebecca asked. She was being polite. She knew that they had bought some the last time they went shopping.
“Let me get it for you,” said June, pulling the bacon out and scraping the peppers, onions and mushrooms off her cutting board and into the pan. Nothing like a little bacon fat to flavor vegetables.
“No mom, I got it,” Rebecca tucked her dark hair behind an ear. She opened the refrigerator and a tub of sour cream bounced out and rolled in a circle around the floor. “You might have bought too many groceries,” she said with a smirk. In all fairness, she had warned June several times to be more careful about what she bought. But what self-respecting cook doesn’t have at least five different kinds of cheese in her refrigerator at all times?
“It’s just taking me a while to get used to the smaller space,” said June, feeling a bit defensive.
“Mom, it’s still too much food for just you, even if the refrigerator was bigger.”
June shrugged. She was better at cooking for a crowd of people than just herself. She knew that. “I’ll figure something out.”
Of course her daughter was right, but June didn’t have to tell her that. It was annoying to get advice from someone whose diapers she had changed.
Rebecca poured everyone a glass and set the coffee maker going.
“I think we should go to Zions today,” said Nathan.
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