“Okay, then. That’s all the outdoor education I need for today. I’ll see you back at the car.”
“Wait.” He caught the back of her coat before she could retreat and reeled her in until he could wrap his arms around her. Leaning in, he murmured, “They’re not going to come after you this time. I promise. I’ll protect you.”
“Look, I know they’re just birds, but they’re big, and they’re fast, and they’ve got those beaks…” She trailed off as he turned her, slid her sunglasses up to the top of her head, and looked into her eyes.
“Come on, city girl. You can do this. In fact, before we’re done, you’re going to be completely charmed by our feathered friends.”
“I doubt that. Seriously.” She looked past him, toward the pond. “You promise they won’t attack?”
“I’ve got a secret weapon.” So saying, he steered them toward the closest split-log bench circling the pond.
The mention of a weapon seemed to reassure her—slightly. “Oh God. Okay. Oh God. There they are.” Moving cautiously, she slowly lowered to sit beside him on the bench. Her fingers dug into his forearm. “They’re looking at us. They see us!”
“’Course they do.” He extended his legs, crossed his ankles, and draped an arm along the back of the bench. “They can see 180 degrees horizontally and vertically, which is pretty amazing when you think about it. They have excellent hearing, too, and can distinguish a mate’s call from hundreds of yards away.”
“They can see us. They can hear us.” She gave a little shudder. “Jesus. Oh, no.” Her fingers tightened on his arm. “One’s coming.”
“Yep.” He took the bag of dry corn from his pocket, opened the Ziploc and held it out to Izzy. “Go ahead and reward his curiosity.”
She glanced down at the bag. “What? Do what?”
“Just scoop a small handful”—he demonstrated—“and toss it toward the pond.” Using an underhand technique, he scattered the corn several feet away, between their bench and the bank of the pond. The frontrunner goose stepped closer to feed and several more waddled up from the waterline, honking, to get in on the action.
“Don’t do that. They’re coming. They’re all coming. We’re going to be surrounded.”
“They’re just coming for the food.” He kept his voice calm and even as he stroked his free hand along her shoulder. “Those are all males. Toss them some.”
She did as he asked, though she threw the feed overhand, aiming for closer to the pond. Her strategy was to keep them close to the water, but the breeze didn’t cooperate, and her kernels landed around his.
“Keep tossing. We’ll need a lot to get the full show. Ah, here come the gals.”
She tossed handfuls of feed like her life depended on it. “How can you tell the difference?”
“The males have longer necks and bigger heads.”
“They all look the same to me.” She said this out of the corner of her mouth, as if worried they’d hear, understand, and get offended. “Lord here come more. Oh…oh my goodness.” Her hand stilled mid-toss as a jumble of small yellow puffballs scurried up the bank. “Babies.”
“Uh-huh.” Another smile pulled at his lips. Did women train up on how to say that word with the same reverent inflection? Baby geese. Baby dear. Baby whales. Even baby bears. All generated the same adoring tones from females of the human variety.
“They’re so cute. So fluffy. Gosh, there’s so many of them.”
“Canadian Geese mate from mid-winter to early spring, and the goslings hatch about a month later, so we’re in the thick of things right now. That’s why the geese reacted so territorially when you wandered in here. Lots of nests to protect. Lots of incubating eggs and fresh-hatched babies.”
She resumed tossing feed and watching the full-grown geese lead the little ones up, then surround them so they could eat within the protection of the adults. “They seem really well-tended by the flock.”
“Yeah.” He turned to her, ran a finger along the graceful curve at the nape of her neck. “I can’t speak for all geese, but this species is monogamous. Not just for the season. For life.”
She looked over at him, a slight smile teasing her lips. “Really? That seems…rare.”
He returned her smile but shook his head. “Not here.” He tapped her dangling pearl earring with a fingertip and sent it rocking back and forth, refracting sunlight. “A lot of animals up here mate for life.”
Her soft smile faded as her lips parted. Dark eyes stared into his for a long moment, quiet but for goose calls. “You don’t say,” she finally managed.
He touched her earlobe. “It’s a fact.” Leaning in, he lowered his voice. “Are you charmed, Izzy?”
A particularly loud honk made her start, pulled her attention to the feeding geese in time to watch an adult herd a recalcitrant gosling back into the fold. When she looked at him again, pink tinged her cheeks. “I am charmed,” she admitted, then held up the empty bag in her hand. “I’m also out of goose food. Are we going to have to make a run for it?”
“Nah. They’re busy and we’re not a threat. We just stand up”—he did so and then brought her to her feet—“and walk away.” Arm around her shoulders, he strolled with her toward Main Street.
“Thank you for the outdoor education,” she said when they reached the sidewalk. Turning to face him, she went on, “Next time I encounter a flock of wild geese, I won’t have a panic attack. Probably.”
“You’re welcome, and I’m glad. Probably.”
“So, what now? Back to work?”
Not if he could help it. He pulled her into his arms, tipped her face to his. “I was sort of hoping we could drive over to the inn, sneak up to your room, and—”
“You were angling for that nooner all along, weren’t you?”
The gold glints in her brown eyes told him she saw right through him. “I was going to say sneak up to your room and quiz you on the mating habits of Captivity’s wild geese.”
Her laugh said she wasn’t buying it. “You were not, you big liar.”
He couldn’t resist that open, smiling face. “I said it before. I’ll say it again. Miss Marcano, you have a dirty mind.” Before she could argue that conclusion, he leaned in and kissed her. Kissed the smile and the cotton candy ChapStick right off her lips. Kissed her until her arms encircled his neck and held tight, so he could feel her heart pounding in time with his own. When he eased away, she lifted those long eyelids of hers, looked at him from beneath her eyelashes. “My dirty mind tells me you want to quiz me on the mating habits of one of Captivity’s more evolved mammals.”