“I warned you about dog books.” I smirk at him. “But is that really what you want to discuss right now?”
He looks down at himself. “No.” His gaze rises to meet mine. “Do you think you can get me out of here? I’ve been trying for I don’t know how long, and I think all I’ve managed to do is get myself more stuck.”
I study him, then our surroundings. If I could find a long stick or something, maybe I could pull him out. Then again, my upper body strength is not exactly anything to write home about. Maybe some rope would work. I could relive my glory days as the anchor on tug-of-war teams growing up.
“Ouch! Seriously? After all the trouble you’ve caused, this is how you repay me?”
My head whips back around. “Excuse me?”
“Not you.” He adjusts his suit jacket so it hangs slightly farther away from his body.
I study him some more, but he doesn’t offer any explanation as to who he was speaking to, if not me.
Alrighty then.
“Any ideas on how we can get you out?”
He shrugs. “A stick?”
I shake my head. “I thought of that, but I’m not strong enough and you’ll probably end up pulling me in with you.”
“This never happened when I was a kid,” he mutters.
“Probably because you weighed less,” I answer automatically, then what he said registers. “Wait. You liked to come to the pond as a child?” I’d thought the pond was my special place when I was younger. It never occurred to me that itmight have been a hangout spot for Julien as well, albeit years before it was mine.
He nods. “Catch frogs, build dams, fish—a boy’s paradise.”
“And a girl’s.”
He gives me a look I can’t decipher, then hisses in a pained breath and jerks his jacket away from his chest. “You do that one more time, and I’m canceling this rescue.”
“Julien?” I’m trying really hard to tamp down my smile.
“Yeah?”
“Who are you talking to?”
His cheeks pinken as he pulls his suit jacket open, revealing a small bird in the inside pocket. “She was stuck in the mud, so I came in to fish her out.”
“And got stuck yourself for your troubles.”
“In more ways than one,” he mutters.
“Maybe she remembers when you caught frogs and is afraid of becoming your next prisoner.” I grin.
He gives me a look that says he’s not amused, but the corners of his lips twitch anyway.
“Okay, this is what we’re going to do. I think if you take your jacket off and lay it on top of the mud, I can reach it and pull the bird to safety.”
“Well, at least one of us is getting out of here,” he grumbles, then flinches again, ripping his jacket off before laying it out carefully between us. The bird strains and titters her protests.
I inch as close as I dare to the bank, stopping only when the ground beneath my shoes turns soft and mushy. Reaching out as far as I can, I snag hold of the cuff of Julien’s jacket and pull the garment toward me. “Got her!”
Julien gives me a thumbs-up. I bend down and examine the little bird. She’s squawking like we’re trying to kill her, and I’m surprised I hadn’t heard her protests when she’d been snuggled up to Julien’s chest. “She looks okay. Now that the mud on her wings has dried, I think she’s good to go.”
Not wanting to get pecked like Julien, I gently pry the bird out of the pocket. Sure enough, as soon as her wings are free, she flies away, albeit a little wobbly.
“You’re welcome,” Julien calls after her.
