Part 17 (1/2)
”What?”
”Smile for the camera!” he said through his teeth. She managed a lopsided smile, and he muttered, ”Should I be amazed that Jesus still pulls in the paparazzi?”
”Don't make fun,” she warned.
”Wouldn't dare,” he a.s.sured.
After a few more cars pa.s.sed by, Ransom gave her a nudge. ”I was just thinking ... if you don't like me, but you don't know why you don't like me; doesn't it make sense that if you found something likeable about me, we could be friends? Hypothetically.”
Her promise to Marcus about being nice weighed heavily on her mind. ”I suppose that's possible. Remotely.”
”A challenge!” he exulted.
”This is unbelievable. Doesn't anything embarra.s.s you?”
”Not much,” he admitted. ”Why? Are you embarra.s.sed?”
”Mortified.”
”Why?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
”Because you're you, and I'm me,” she replied. ”And this whole conversation is ridiculous!”
”How about I tell you something embarra.s.sing about me,” he proposed.
”Like what?” she asked, curious in spite of herself.
”What if I told you my favorite color is pink?”
She blinked. ”You're kidding.”
Ransom gestured broadly. ”Why would I lie about something so stupid?”
”Has anyone ever asked you your favorite color before?”
”Well, sure.”
”And you told them pink?”
”Are you kidding?” he scoffed.
Dripping sarcasm, Prissie asked, ”So you've lied to everyone except me?”
”What can I say? I'm turning over a new leaf.”
”I'll believe it when I see it.”
Ransom folded his arms over his chest. ”Does that mean you'll be watching?”
”Watching my back,” she returned tartly.
”In case I try to tie another knot in your hair?” he inquired, reaching behind her.
She s.h.i.+ed away, and he relented as another car pulled into the church parking lot, illuminating a rather subdued flock of sheep trotting obediently to their pen. Neil slumped gratefully onto a straw bale beside Koji to catch his breath. ”All woolies present and accounted for. Good thing Ranger Ochs showed up when he did. Him and the other guy did good.”
”Padgett,” Prissie supplied. ”I hope you thanked them.”
”Several times,” he a.s.sured.
Tad sloped over and said, ”Not sure who's more worn out-us or them.”
”Coulda been worse,” Ransom offered. ”Coulda been camels!”
Prissie's older brother chuckled. ”Want to trade places now that the excitement's over?”
”I don't mind sticking around.” Glancing at Prissie, Ransom added, ”Unless you mind.”
”I don't care,” she replied stiffly, once more conscious of being in the spotlight.
When the boys settled into their places as shepherds, Ransom leaned closer so that only she could hear him. ”Will you keep my secret?”
”Your secret's safe.”
”Does that make us friends?” he pressed.
”No.”
”Didn't think so,” Ransom admitted. ”But it's a start.”
Prissie was afraid he might be right.
After the spotlights had been shut down and the farm animals loaded into their trailers, the Pomeroys warmed up inside the church with hot cider and cookies. Ransom and Marcus stuck around ... and stuck close. ”How'd you get here, anyhow?” Prissie thought to ask.
”Hitched a ride with Mr. Mailman,” Ransom replied.
”You called?” Milo inquired, ambling over with a cup of coffee in hand. He'd shed his costume, but his hair still glinted in the lights. Noting Prissie's gaze, he gave his hair a pat. ”How long do you think it'll take to get this stuff out?”
”You'll have metallic dandruff 'til Easter,” said Neil.
”I could loan you a curry comb,” offered Tad, his gray eyes sparkling.
Laughing at his own expense, the Messenger turned slightly as Mr. Pomeroy strolled over with the rest of the family. Right away, Prissie's father offered a hand to the young Protector. ”We met once before ... Marcus, right?”
”Yes, sir,” the teen replied with gruff politeness. ”Marcus Truman.”
”I hear you were pretty handy when it came to heading off those sheep,” Jayce said. ”Thanks for helping out in our time of need!”
”No big deal,” he replied. Zeke stepped forward, staring hard at Marcus, who offered a cautious, ”Yo.”
”What happened to your hair?” the boy asked bluntly.