Page 9 of Already Callin’ You Mine

3

JACE

“I can’t remember the last time the Grain Store did something other than the ugly duckling.”

I throw a look over my shoulder, noticing the same tried-and-true decorations strung up in the local feed store’s booth. Owen’s right—Brian has used this theme for so long, I didn’t even register that the booth was decorated. Even the little pool full of ducklings isn’t novel—those are here every week.

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it?”

“I guess. But he’s not winning.”

“I don’t think Brian’s gonna be heartbroken over that one.”

I don’t actually know what the prize is this year, but in the past, it hasn’t been something that was worth a whole lot more than bragging rights. Pulling out my phone, I flip through the email that we got earlier this week with the details, trying to find if they listed what everyone was competing for.

Bingo.

“As always, we will have two contests,” I read, trying to do my best impression of Marty Barrowcliff, the leader of the town’s women’s club, who organizes this silly thing every year. “Back by popular demand is the fan-voted category, as well as the committee-judged categories. Top prize this year will be a five-hundred-dollar gift certificate to the Grain Store.”

I look at Owen, and his face says the same thing I know mine does—that answers that.

“Duckie!”

A little voice fills the air, right as I feel a nudge against my knees. I look down, watching as a little boy pushes past us, not caring about anything—or anyone—in his way en route to his goal. My eyes are glued to the mini human, his bright smile infectious. I have no idea how old he is—I’m shit at that kind of thing—but he can’t be more than three or four, his legs moving as fast as they can. Which I have to admit, is a decently impressive speed.

“Whoa,” Owen comments, holding his hands up, trying to move out of the way. “Watch out, someone’s on the move.”

I laugh, his overexaggerated response in his jovial tone a stark contrast to the conversation we were just having. My eyes are glued to little man though, something about him stealing my attention.

“Duckie!”

I laugh again, turning to watch him, ready to make a comment to the kid, when I’m cut off by an unmistakable sound.

Splash!

I gasp, my eyes going wide as he climbs into the kiddie pool, water sloshing over the top as he falls to his knees.

Oh, shit…

Instinctively, I turn and lunge toward the kiddie pool, my heart racing. Yes, it’s only a couple of inches of water inside a plastic tub, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. All it would take is this little guy hitting his head on the way down for something bad to happen in that water. Not to mention it’s filled with ducks and whatever the ducks brought with them—or are leaving behind.

Gross.

I reach for the kid, his giggles continuing to ring out as I slip my hands under his arms and lift him from the water. Part of me expects him to scream or try to wriggle out of my hold, but he doesn’t. He just giggles even more, like my lifting him up is his own personal roller coaster.

“Whoa there, little man,” I say, keeping my voice as light as I can considering my heart pounding against my chest. I don’t want to frighten him. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Duckies!”

“Yes, those are duckies.”

I set him down, taking a quick inventory of his person to make sure he didn’t get hurt during his duck pond dive. He looks to be fine, other than his pants being soaked. Not sure I can say the same for the ducks, but they aren’t my concern.

Throwing a look to Owen, I hope that he can read my mind, wanting to try and find something to help dry this guy off. He seems to, turning to Brian, asking him something I can’t quite make out as I turn my attention back to the child before me.

“I play with duckies.”

I chuckle, my heart squeezing at how adorable he is. Too cute to be scolded, even though that would probably be the right thing to do. Not that I have room to talk—this is exactly the shit my brothers and I would have pulled at that age.