“Are you sure? You’re not making any sense, and I need to know what’s going on with Beefcake and Plum,” the old-timer repeated.
“Do you think we’re Beefcake and Plum?” she asked, gesturing to herself and Raz as her pulse skyrocketed.
She caught Raz’s eye and gave him a look that said that old cowboy can’t know about our nicknames, can he?
Raz’s eyeballs replied with bloody hell, who knows! This place is bonkers.
Her beefcake wasn’t wrong. Everything about this day had been bonkers.
The old man slapped his hat against his leg and broke out into a full belly laugh. He was a tall man, fit for his age, but he did have a bit of a tummy on him. His entire body, from his beard to his rounded abdomen, jiggled as he cackled with amusement. “Are you asking me if you two are a pair of asses?” he got out through another cascade of laughter.
What was so funny? This had to be a hallucination.
She turned to Raz. “Is this happening?”
Everything about the last hour could have been a scene in a crazy dream. Maybe she’d been hit in the head with a rock. She could have gotten out of the car and wham—an actual runaway rickety rock, straight to the noggin.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Raz replied.
“Bob,” a woman in a cowboy hat exclaimed, exiting the passenger side of the truck.
And hello, second Western movie extra.
Libby gasped. She hadn’t even noticed there was someone else in the vehicle.
“Don’t go joking with these poor folks—especially when they have company,” the lady cowgirl chided gently, gesturing to the throng of media when a high-pitched bray followed by a jarring hee-haw cut through the air.
“The donkey,” Sebastian cried. “You’ve got a pack burro in your trailer, don’t you?”
“Not a donkey, young man. We’ve got two pack burros,” the woman answered.
“Two!” Sebastian exclaimed like he’d won the donkey lottery.
“Yes, their names are Beefcake and Sugarplum, but we call the female Plum. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” the man explained, returning his hat to his head.
“Beefcake and Plum are donkeys?” Raz repeated.
Good idea to double check.
The old man shared a look with his white-haired companion. The pair looked close in age and shared similar features, and again, she had the feeling she’d seen them somewhere.
“These city folk are never that quick on the uptake, are they, Maud?” the man mused.
The woman waved off the surly cowboy’s comment. “Yes, Beefcake and Plum are donkeys. I’m Maud. I left a note for you. My brother Bob and I run the Rickety Rock Donkey Rescue Ranch. I told you we’d be by. Thanks to the livestream, we knew you’d arrived.”
“This is being livestreamed?” Libby exclaimed, then glanced over her shoulder at the myriad of reporters holding up their phones.
Raz leaned over, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. “It’s because of the upcoming fight. Anytime there’s press or even someone with a mobile, it’s safe to say it’s being livestreamed,” he explained with an apologetic bend to his whispered words.
She nodded. “Good to know.”
“And that’s the problem,” Bob announced, his features hardening.
“What’s the problem?” Briggs pressed.
“There are too many people here. We don’t want to spook Beefcake and Plum. You only have one chance to make a first impression on a donkey.”
“Is that true?” Raz asked.
“Donkeys are smart animals, Dad,” Sebastian chimed. “They can remember things that happened to them for lots and lots of years. If they get scared now and think you’re dangerous or unfriendly, they may not want to race with you.”
“So, the donkeys have to like us to run with us?” she asked the boy.
Sebastian nodded. “Yep, if they trust you, they’ll do what you want. They’re happiest when they are part of a group and when you run with them, you say hup, hup if you want them to go faster.”
“I see someone has been reading up on pack burros,” Maud said with a tip of her hat to the child.
Sebastian beamed. “I’ve got three books on donkeys, and I can’t wait to meet them. I know about their eyes and what they eat.” The boy surveyed the crowd. “I’ll take care of the people with cameras so the donkeys can come out,” Sebastian said with his hands on his hips and a crease to his brow.
“What’s he doing?” Raz asked.
Libby shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Sebastian ran over to one of the larger boulders and climbed on top. “May I have your attention?”
Libby startled. Ten days ago, Sebastian was skittish about a playdate at the park. Now, he was corralling reporters.
“It’s time for the press conference to end and for you to go home so I can meet my new donkeys,” the boy called. “When donkeys are introduced to a new environment, they need it to be calm so they can acclimate. The word acclimate means to get used to their new home. I read that in a book about donkeys. So, as my granny Fin would say, off you go, you dodgy plonkers.”
“The lad can take charge,” Raz commented as the hint of a grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.
Was that pride in Raz’s voice?
Her heart was ready to burst with affection, like what she felt for her brothers. But this feeling was different. It harkened to a deep devotion she’d never experienced.
“We’ve got quite a kid,” she replied, and oh, no! What had she said?
Raz stared at her. His expression hardened as his gaze went ice cold.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat as a knot tightened in her belly.
She’d crossed the nanny boss line—big time.
Sixteen
Libby
Libby twisted her curtain scarf.
We’ve got quite a kid?
What was she thinking?
Stupid mixed-up chi!
She had to fix this. She could not have Raz thinking she wanted to take Sebastian’s mother’s place.
Say something not crazy!
“You’ve got quite a son. Sorry, I misspoke.” The heat coming off her cheeks could fry an egg.
Raz didn’t respond, and that only made it worse.
She had to be careful about how she spoke to Raz about his son.
His son, not hers.
She’d be smart to remember that.
“Sebastian is correct. It’s time to conclude the presser,” Briggs announced to the members of the media and blessedly shifting Raz’s attention from her. “We appreciate your time. You’ve received the information on upcoming press events, and we’ll be in touch.”
“And feel free to go on down to Rickety Rock’s town center,” Maud said to the men and women packing their equipment. “We’ve got Rocky Mountain oysters on the menu at the Burro Café, and the people of our little abode would sure appreciate your business.”
“What are Rocky Mountain oysters?” Raz asked as the donkeys started braying and calling out.
Okay, at least he was speaking to her. But before she could answer, Sebastian called to her.