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I can’t help the giggle from escaping. “Three-quarters?”
“Next month is my birthday. Why are birthdays good for your health?”
I roll my eyes. Elder is quite the jokester. Unfortunately, most of his jokes are meant for five-year-olds.
“Research suggests people with more birthdays live longer,” he says before laughing at his own joke.
I wish I could laugh and joke the way he does. I can’t. Life is no laughing matter.
“Turn here,” I say.
“This isn’t the way to Juniper’s house.”
I point up ahead to where Lucy is meandering through a field. “Someone has a hankering for watermelon.”
Thank goodness. Juniper would lose her ever-loving mind if one of her animals showed up at her house before her wedding. Or, more likely, Maverick would lose his mind when Juniper ran out of her house to cuddle Lucy while wearing her wedding dress.
Juniper loves animals as much as I do, which is saying a lot since I prefer animals over humans every day of the week and twice on Sunday.
“Stop here,” I order Elder and jump out of the vehicle.
I don’t hurry toward Lucy. Knowing the llama, she’d think I’m playing a game and run away, forcing me to chase her. It wouldn’t be the first time, but I have no plans to spend my day chasing an animal all over town.
A door slams behind me and I cringe. Did Lucy hear? Is she going to bolt?
“What are you doing?” I hiss at Elder.
“Helping.”
“What do you know about corralling animals?”
“Humans are animals, aren’t they?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I’m pretty good at corralling humans. I have a blue ribbon in corralling.”
I wish I could say I don’t respond to his comment. But I’d be lying. My body warms as I imagine Elder corralling me into a corner where he pushes me up against the wall before pressing his body against mine and—
I slam the shutters down on those thoughts. Elder is not for me. He should find some nice woman who’s worthy of him to fall in love with.
I don’t respond to Elder’s comment and continue toward Lucy. Elder tromps next to me.
“Can you walk quieter?”
“Walk quieter?”
“Yes. Stop stomping your big feet.”
“You know what they say about a man with big feet—”
I hold up a hand before he can continue. “Can we secure Lucy and get her back to the Wildlife Refuge before I lose my job? Please. I love my job.”
Elder sobers. “Of course.” He motions forward. “After you.”
I tiptoe through the field. It’s fallow since it’s February but Lucy isn’t convinced. She’s rooting around through the weeds for watermelon and doesn’t notice my approach.
“Hey, sweetie,” I sing in a soft voice.
Lucy’s head pops up and I swear she frowns at me. Someone is not happy about having her freedom curtailed. She’s not the only one who isn’t happy.
“Shall we go back home?”
