“Gotcha!” Lucy pounced on the runaway bantam. Her hands closed around warm, soft feathers. The little hen beat her wings vainly in an attempt to get free, but Lucy shifted her hands to hold the bird’s wings in place and the chicken ceased its struggling and settled peacefully into her arms.
“There, that’s better,” Lucy murmured, shifting her hold again to free one hand. She stroked the soft plumage for a few minutes, and rubbed beneath the feathers that covered the bird’s scrawny neck--just exactly as if it had been a cat, or a dog. And just like a cat, it closed its eyes blissfully. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you, Suzie?” Lucy murmured again, ignoring the jealous, outraged squawks from the caged rooster.
She’d gotten the rest of the chickens back in their coop without incident—but this one, Suzie, her favorite—had a mind of her own, and not even Abraxas was as difficult to catch. Lucy petted the little hen for a little longer before returning her to the coop.
She carefully made sure both the raccoon-proof locks were securely latched, wincing a little as the wire scraped against the heel of her still-tender hand.
The bee stings were mostly healed by now--only the one between her fingers was still really bothersome. That was the one which had pierced her most deeply. And, unlike the others, the venom from this wound had not been released near the surface, where the pain and itching could have been relieved by ice, or by scratching, or by the application of some kind of topical anesthetic, but deep within her hand itself.
And now, long after the others had ceased to concern her, she was left with a relentless, aching, internal itchiness for which she could find no relief, and which she still found almost impossible to ignore for more than a few moments at a time.
She made her way from the little enclosure and headed back up the garden path. It was a beautiful evening. Dragonflies danced jewel-like in the warm spring air, and the late afternoon sun poured down around her like a thick, golden syrup. The grass had been mown that afternoon and beneath her feet the ground was warm and soft and damp. Lucy knew the bottoms of her bare feet were probably turning green, but she didn’t care. She stopped to breathe in the heady scents and for a moment her heart lifted and she felt like dancing, right there in the grass. It was almost May Day. And for just a moment she felt herself transported into the past...
A Taste Of Honey
Oberon Book 4.0
For Lucy Greco Cavanaugh, life is a dream come true. She has it all. The perfect family. The perfect husband. The perfect marriage. What more could she wish for? Other than the chance to do it all again. To experience once more the agony and ecstasy of falling in love with the man of her dreams. To recapture the joy and uncertainty that comes with starting over.
As far as Dan Cavanaugh is concerned, his life has become a nightmare. His storybook marriage is on the line when Deirdre Shelton-Cooper, the runaway daughter of a former girlfriend arrives in Oberon intent on proving Dan is her father. Even though he's convinced the girl's claims are false, Dan decides his only chance to keep from losing everything lies in keeping her very existence a secret from his wife and family.
But, sometimes, what you don't know can hurt you--and those you love. When Deirdre, masquerading as a surfer girl named Monica, accidentally hooks up with their son, Seth, Lucy and Dan are left to wonder: has their perfect, fairy-tale romance, turned into a classic Greek tragedy?
Sometimes you get exactly what you wish for. And it's more than you'd ever dreamed.
