Part 9 (2/2)
She hadn't kept her word. The pygmy goat had escaped a third time.
Mike fol owed the paper trail, across the parking lot and along the brick sidewalk of the petting zoo. He came upon Houdini and Norah at the exact moment the zookeeper discovered the buck's thievery. Her eyes were wide and one hand covered her heart. She appeared horrified Houdini had shredded page after page of diagrams.
The goat's ability to drag six rol ed sheets of plans to his pen mystified Mike. The pages were big and bulky. He'd been one determined little buck, but perseverance was not to be admired in this case. Houdini had sc.r.a.pped Mike's notations.
Mike was d.a.m.n mad.
”What have you done?” He heard the catch in Norah's voice as she approached the goat. She dropped to her knees and stared at the mess. ”Mike's going to-”
”Hang him by his horns?” he finished for her. He pa.s.sed through the gate, came to stand before Houdini.
The buck didn't fear him. If anything, he chewed faster before spitting a paper wad.
Mike went down on one knee and salvaged a half sheet yet to be devoured. The remaining bits of the plan were the size of peas.
”Houdini loves paper,” Nora rushed to say. ”He's fascinated by the crinkling sound. He doesn't actual y eat the paper. He rol s it around in his mouth and chews.”
”Then spits.” Mike ducked a spit bal .
”Here's a piece you can save.” She smoothed out a damp corner edge. Her hand shook as she pa.s.sed it to him.
He studied the drawing. ”Goat spit smeared the lines.”
She hesitated, asked, ”Do you have another set of plans?”
”This set contained my notes and designated changes.”
Norah Archer leaned back on her heels, leveled her gaze on him. ”How did Houdini get your plans? Weren't they in your office? Wasn't the door locked?” Houdini had yet to pick locks.
”I'd left the door cracked so air could circulate,” he explained. ”Your goat hit and ran like a master thief.”
”An open door is an invitation for Houdini to visit,” she told him. ”He's very social.”
”Your goat came uninvited and destroyed a costly set of drawings.”
Nora pursed her lips. ”Of al the papers in your office, Houdini stole these particular plans?”
Mike nodded. ”He had his choice of magazines, today's newspaper, the phone book or the plans.”
She scooped up the remainder of the paper, pushed to her feet, and defended her goat. ”Guess Houdini finds Cambridge Square as distasteful as I do.”
Mike rose up before her, tal and agitated. ”Three strikes, Norah.” He tapped off his words on three fingers. ”Houdini's climbed on my Corvette, ruined my sidewalk, and chewed and spit out my architectural plans. His escapades are getting old.”
Her chest rose and fel , her heart heavy. ”We'l do better,”
she promised.
His expression indicated he didn't believe her for a second. High above, the sky clouded. A breeze slid between them, the air cool against the heat of his temper.
Loose strands from her ponytail fanned her cheek, catching at one corner of her mouth.
It was Mike who tucked her hair back. The ful press of his thumb against her lips held her silent as the cal used pads of his fingers swept her cheek and secured the strands behind her ear.
His hand splayed along her jawline as the tip of his thumb made a slow pa.s.s across her mouth, teasing her lips apart.
He stroked the inside of her moist lower lip, his touch slow and intimate. And a total turn-on.
Withdrawing his thumb, he dipped his head until their noses touched. ”Tie a bel around Houdini's neck or instal an electric fence. Just keep him off my construction site, understood?”
”Got it.” Her voice was too husky to be her own.
A glance at Houdini, and Mike left the pen.
Norah blew out a breath. Her goat was a scamp. They didn't, however, need another strike against them.
She wouldn't let Houdini out of her sight.
CHAPTER THREE.
”Houdini's disappeared.” Norah Archer's shoulders slumped as she faced Mike Kraft in the side parking lot.
She looked shaken and scared, her eyes al red and puffy.
She clutched several Kleenex tissues in her hand.
He squinted against the late afternoon sun. He'd cal ed it quits for the day and was about to climb in his Corvette.
Instead he closed the car door. ”Your goat's gone missing?”
She nodded, her voice watery. ”I've kept a sharp eye on Houdini al week. He was with me in the miniature horses'
pen while I was rubbing cream on Angel's and Astro's hooves to enhance hardness. It took me six minutes. When I looked up, Houdini was gone. I've searched for him for hours.”
A cold trail for a lost goat would be tough to track. ”You need my help?” Mike asked.
”If you have time.”
He'd make time for this woman who looked as if she'd lost her child, not a petting zoo goat. ”Do we walk or drive?”
”We'l walk,” she told him. ”I'l put Hermes in her harness.
Houdini adores her. He'l hear her bleat and come to us. I'l bring Houdini's Red Flyer. He likes to ride.”
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