by Laurel Kerr
“Hey, Ferdinand. There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”
The braver chinchilla paused as if debating whether he wanted to receive visitors or not. After a moment, the little guy slowly did a hop-skip in Bowie’s direction. Bowie placed one hand palm up on the floor of the cage while he stroked Ferdinand with the other. The rodent made happy squeaks as it snuffled Bowie’s fingers. Seemingly satisfied, it climbed onto Bowie’s hand. Bowie placed his other palm around Ferdinand’s furry tummy as he carefully lifted the little chinchilla. Immediately cuddling the animal close, he shifted so Katie could get a good look at the animal’s wiggling little nose surrounded by black whiskers.
“Try petting Ferdinand first, so that he gets used to you,” Bowie encouraged.
Katie nodded as she reached out to stroke the animal. When her hand accidentally brushed against Bowie’s chest, she tried hard not to notice his firm pecs. Unfortunately, her body refused to cooperate, and an unmistakable thrill of attraction sizzled through her. Thankfully, when her hand came in contact with the chinchilla, her focus switched back to the animal. “His fur is so soft!”
“Chinchillas average sixty hairs per follicle,” Bowie told her as he clearly switched back into zoo-director mode. “Unfortunately, that also made them valuable to furriers. One species is almost extinct.”
“I suppose that’s not the species sold in pet stores.”
Bowie shook his head. “No. Scientists believe that the domesticated chinchilla came from the less vulnerable species. Ferdinand is the kind you can buy.”
The little rodent began arching into Katie’s hand, chittering contentedly. Bowie smiled fondly. “He seems to like you. Do you want to try holding him?”
She nodded eagerly. Bowie adjusted the animal to make the transfer easier. “Make sure to support his hind legs and rear end. Once you have a proper hold, cradle him against you like I’m doing. Chinchillas need to feel protected and secure.”
Katie nodded again as she accepted the animal. Ferdinand curled his slight, soft body into hers. She couldn’t stop the cooing sounds that escaped her throat as she carefully balanced the furry rodent in her hands. Bowie let her cuddle the chinchilla for a few minutes before he showed her how to place the little guy back in his cage.
As they turned from the chinchilla exhibit, Katie asked, “Do you have any other animals in here other than reptiles?”
“No other mammals, but this is also the home of Rosie the Rocker, our cockatoo. Her perch is right around the corner.”
As they turned the bend, Katie caught sight of a white bird with a wild yellow mohawk. Spotting Bowie, the cockatoo squawked and began doing a little dance. Katie laughed at the sight. “Someone likes you.”
Bowie gave a sheepish grin. “She knows who brings the birdseed.”
Rosie chose that moment to let out another happy screech, her head bobbing frantically. Bowie unlatched her cage, and the bird immediately flew to his shoulder. She began to gently pluck at his short hair with her beak. Another chuckle escaped Katie.
“Oh, I think it’s more than food,” she said. “I think she might have a little crush on you.”
Bowie’s gray eyes latched on to hers. The unexpected heat in them seared Katie. Her heart—that weak, susceptible organ—squeezed. Heady pleasure shot through her. Firmly, she stifled the flames, but even the smoke left over from the conflagration seemed to intoxicate her.
Clearing her throat, she tried changing the subject. “Why did you name her Rosie the Rocker? Because of her yellow head feathers?”
“Not exactly.” Bowie walked over to the utility closet and pulled out a towel and an old boom box. Slinging the cloth over his shoulder, he positioned Rosie on top of it and then carefully bent at the knees to select a song.
“Oh my gosh, is that a CD player?” Katie asked. “I haven’t seen one of those in years. Does it even work?”
Bowie shrugged the shoulder without a bird perched on it. “It still gets the job done.”
“Where do you even find CDs for it?”
“Rosie’s tastes are old school,” Bowie said as Quiet Riot’s “Cum On Feel the Noize” started to blare through the speakers. To Katie’s utter amazement, the cockatoo began to tap its gray foot in time with the beat. Then, with a primal squawk, the bird began to head-bang, keeping perfect tempo. Next, it scooted back and forth on Bowie’s shoulder, its footwork absolutely flawless.
Katie clapped. “Now that is impressive. How did you teach her to do that?”
Bowie shook his head. “I didn’t. Some species of birds are natural dancers. There have been a couple of studies about it. I read about it years ago in National Geographic. That’s what gave me the idea to try it with Rosie.”
Katie fell silent for a moment as she watched the bird strut its stuff on Bowie’s shoulder. It was a mesmerizing performance. “We need to get this on video for the website.”
Bowie nodded. “Sounds good. We can videotape Rosie after we finish with the pig-kissing scene.”
Katie shook her head. “I don’t want to add too many videos to the site at one time. We need to build anticipation. Besides, I think Rosie might be a perfect sidekick for you in one of my pranks.”
“Are you going to make me kiss her too?”
Rosie squawked loudly as she stamped her foot high in the air. Katie howled and shook her head. “I don’t think Rosie likes that idea. Maybe I was wrong about her flirting with you after all.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Bowie said sarcastically and then sobered. “What is your plan then?”
Katie shrugged. “I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be good. I promise you that.”
Bowie feigned a groan, and she felt the slightest twinge of guilt. Maybe she was being too hard on the man. After all, it had been over a decade since high school. But it wasn’t as if she was surprising him with mean tricks. Yes, she was sort of blackmailing him with her promise to volunteer, but she wasn’t forcing him. He could back out if he wanted, and Katie had no doubt that the videos were going to make excellent advertisements for the zoo.
“Speaking of your stunts, we’d better head back to the red river hogs,” she said. “People might be wandering in.”
Bowie checked the time and gave a doubtful shrug. “I wish that would be the case. We don’t draw big crowds—unless you count the occasional school group—and unfortunately, there isn’t one scheduled for today.”
“Ah, yes, but there were flyers for this event.”
Bowie wrinkled his brow. “Flyers?”
Katie nodded. “I came up with the idea last night when I was watching the cubs, and I figured out the rest of the details with June this morning. She’s always awake before dawn to start the baking for her tea shop, so I popped by before I headed home. June agreed to hand the flyers out to her customers. I also dropped some off at the Prairie Dog Café on my way out of town.”
She reached into her pocket to pull out a copy and handed it to him. “Hopefully, these draw in more people.”
Before Katie had left the zoo this morning, she’d managed to capture a shot of Daisy that looked like the pig was lifting her snout for a kiss. Since Katie had already taken photos of Bowie for the website, it hadn’t been hard to find one where he looked like he was posing for a magazine cover. Under the pictures, Katie had written Bowie and Daisy’s dating stats along with details about the fund-raiser and its location.
Shoving his hand in his hair, Bowie studied the flyer. He looked a little tense as he handed it back to her. When he spoke, his voice sounded tight, maybe even a little edgy. “It looks great, Katie. A lot more professional than anything I could’ve done.”
“Nervous?” she asked.
“Weirdly, yes,” he admitted, somewhat to her surprise. “I don’t know why. We give talks all the time, but we don’t normally draw crowds. Do you think a lot of people will show?”
Ka
tie shrugged. “I don’t know. Both June’s tea shop and the Prairie Dog Café typically have a bunch of customers on Saturday.”
Bowie blew out his breath slowly. “At least the zoo will make money.”
“Hey, you don’t kiss pigs every day either. It’s okay to be a little anxious.”
“Red river hog,” he corrected.
“Ah, yes, red river hog, so much more dignified.”
Bowie laughed for real this time. “Well, I did promise to kiss Daisy in public for you.”
Katie sobered, feeling another prick of conscience. “You are okay with this, right?”
He nodded. “It’s just stage fright. This is actually fun. If it gets our numbers up, then I wish I would have tried stunts like this sooner.”
Just then, Katie and Bowie rounded the corner. Although a mob hadn’t descended upon the red river hogs’ enclosure, a small crowd was milling about. Abby scampered over to them with a huge smile on her face. Lou followed at a more sedate pace.
“There are, like, three kids from my class here!” Abby squealed. “This is going to be so awesome!”
Other people started to drift over to ask Bowie questions about what the fund-raiser was for, how he was going to kiss the red river hog, and what was a red river hog exactly. Katie quietly slipped away to check that the video equipment was set up and working. When the scheduled time drew near, she wove through the small throng that had formed around Bowie.
“Time to pucker up, Romeo,” she told him.
He promised the onlookers that he’d answer more questions after the kiss, and then he headed into the enclosure. As Katie watched through the camera lens, she had to admit that he gave a great performance. He started with a couple of quick, interesting facts about porcines in general and red river hogs in particular. Then he had the audience laughing when he exaggeratedly demonstrated how male red river hogs protect their mates and litters of piglets, including pretending to fight another male for Daisy’s affections. Unimpressed, Daisy munched her food. Each time Bowie tried a new stunt, she ignored him, causing him to lift his hands in mock frustration. The crowd loved it.
Then came the kiss.
Bowie hunkered down beside Daisy. Rubbing her side, he spoke to her softly, getting her comfortable with his presence. When he finally laid one on her snout, the sow emitted a loud and decidedly disgruntled oink. Bowie scrambled backward, landing on his backside. Daisy squealed again and took off at full speed toward the opening of her indoor pen.
“Well, I guess Boris—our male red river hog—has nothing to fear,” Bowie quipped as he rose stiffly from the ground, making a show of rubbing his posterior. Katie debated about zooming in on his butt but decided it wouldn’t fit with the family-friendly tone of the video. Plus, she didn’t want to tempt fate. She already had enough trouble battling unwanted lust without studying Bowie’s tight rear in close-up.
The crowd laughed good-naturedly at Bowie’s antics and started peppering him with more questions. Katie busied herself with cleaning up the video equipment. By the time she finished, the number of people had thinned. She only had to wait a couple more minutes until Bowie headed over to her.
He approached slowly, a broad grin on his face. Her traitorous heart flipped—just as it had when she was a teenager. What was it with Bowie and his effect on her hormones? They hadn’t been this active in over a decade.
“I think that went well,” he said. “There were definitely more people here than usual. The ticket sales will be a start toward climbing out of the hole we’re in, but we’ll need more.”
She nodded. “Hopefully, the next event that we plan will draw an even bigger crowd. We can start advertising it sooner, and it’ll help if we get a good response to this video. I’ll edit it tonight and post it on the website.”
His grin faded slightly as his expression turned serious. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Bowie’s question was layered with meaning. Unfortunately, Katie couldn’t determine exactly what that meaning was. She wasn’t even sure if he knew what he was asking. Did he want absolution? Was he concerned that the pig kissing had brought back bad memories? Did he want to know if everything was in the past? Was he wondering if a part of her was upset that it had gone so well—that he hadn’t made a fool of himself?
Even if Katie could figure out the actual unspoken question, she would have no idea how to answer. Bowie left her conflicted. She didn’t understand the man. Every time she thought she did, he changed again. Before she could even begin to wade through her chaotic feelings, she needed to establish a clear read of Bowie.
She decided to dodge his question entirely. “Uh-uh, you’re not going to get out of our deal that easily.”
He didn’t press her but responded just as lightheartedly. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. So, what’s next week’s video going to be about?”
Katie gave him her most wicked grin. “How do you look in a poet shirt?”
“A what now?”
“White, billowy shirt. Lots of frills.” Katie paused for effect. “Goes well with an eye patch.”
Understanding dawned on Bowie’s face. “You want me to dress as a pirate?”
Katie nodded. “Blame Rosie…or maybe thank her. She inspired me today. I was originally thinking about you reciting odes to the animals, but this idea is so much better.”
“I’d have to order a pirate costume. I guess I can get one that’s not too expensive, but I don’t know if it would ship on time if you want to do a video by next Saturday.”
She shook her head. “No need. One of my younger brothers dressed as a pirate last Halloween. You’re of similar enough build that it should fit.”
“I guess it could work,” Bowie said slowly.
Katie grinned at him. “The idea is perfect! We could have Rosie dance on your shoulder during your video and announce that we’re going to have a pirate-themed day at the zoo in a few weeks. We could even coordinate the event with the last day of school.”
* * *
Although Bowie wasn’t crazy about playing dress-up, he had to admit that Katie’s idea had potential. Kids would love Pirate Day, and so would their parents.
“We wouldn’t have the funds for anything fancy,” Bowie warned. “We brought in some money today, but most of that will go toward keeping this place running.”
“My mom used to be an art teacher,” Katie said. “I’m sure she can come up with a project the kids could do that wouldn’t be too expensive. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. And for the next video, June is going to up her sponsorship to $350. We can talk to some of the other local businesses about doing cross promotions. Maybe the Prairie Dog Café could have a fish-and-chips special on Pirate Day.”
“Let me guess, part of the festivities will include me walking around dressed as a buccaneer?” he said.
She nodded eagerly. “That’s right, matey!”
“Argh,” Bowie responded without inflection.
Katie laughed and shook her head. “You’re going to have to improve your pirate-speak, mister.”
“So how gimmicky am I going to look?”
“Bowie, there is nothing sexier than a good-looking man in a poet shirt and breeches…if he wears them right.”
“And you think I’ll wear them right?”
Katie gave him a slow and deliberate once-over. Her intensity sparked a flash of heat that roared through him. It wasn’t from embarrassment but from anticipation. Bowie’s brain might recognize that the unabashed smolder was only for effect, but his body didn’t. At all.
“Oh yeah,” she said, her voice purposefully throaty. “You’ll wear them right.”
* * *
“You want me to help at the zoo? Oh, this is wonderful!” Katie’s mom beamed.
Katie exchanged a look with her father before she turned her attention back to the sink. Her dad had felt up to ea
ting lunch in the kitchen, which was a good sign. Before, he’d been having meals in his recliner. Although Katie lived in the geodesic dome house behind the old homestead, she found it easier if she ate with them. Her mom cooked, and Katie did the cleanup.
“Mom, it’s no big deal…” Katie began as she wondered if she’d made a mistake in involving her mom.
“It’s such a great idea, sweetheart. I’m so glad to see you becoming invested in the Sagebrush community again!”
“Now, Helen,” Katie’s dad said. “Katie’s just doing her job. I wouldn’t read too much into this.”
Her mother ignored him. “I have so many ideas. A pirate theme is perfect. We could make hats, treasure boxes, cardboard swords—”
“Mom,” Katie said as she leaned over to put a bowl in the dishwasher, “we don’t have a lot of funds or time. We want to tie the event to the last day of school, which is only three weeks away. We’ve got to keep the activities simple.”
“Don’t worry,” her mom promised. “I won’t get ahead of myself.”
But Katie was very much afraid that her mom already had—and not just about the craft projects.
* * *
The next evening, Katie had just finished designing the web page for Fluffy’s misadventures when one of the cougar cubs began mewling for food. She carefully placed her laptop on a counter so that it was out of reach of curious paws before heading over to the pumas. Sylvia paused in nuzzling Dobby long enough to give Katie clear access to him. Katie patted Sylvia on her head before she lifted the small mountain lion into her arms.
“Hi, little guy,” she said.
Cobalt eyes met hers. Three days on, and Katie still couldn’t get enough of those baby blues. Watching the kits discover the world around them was fascinating. They were starting to explore so much more, although they always came back to Sylvia whenever they got tired and needed a snuggle. Or milk. Not that Sylvia could provide the latter.
“Hang on, little dude,” Katie said as she cuddled the wiggling cub. “We’ll get your bottle in a second.”