When a Cowboy Loves a Woman (Creedence Horse Rescue #2) - Jennie Marts Page 0,15

looks like someone left him here for Bryn,” she said, peering into the box as she handed him the note. “There’s all sorts of stuff in here, like food bowls, and some lights, and some blankets.”

Brody scanned the note. “It says here that Spartacus’s owner is apparently a ski bum named Chad who had to leave the state in an emergency and couldn’t bring the tortoise with him. He met Bryn at the diner, and she told him about the rescue ranch, so he knew she’d be the perfect person to leave the tortoise with. He said he’s going to try to come back for him. And he left her some cash for food. He said the tortoise is friendly, digs having his neck scratched, and loves anything red, especially berries or cherry tomatoes.”

“Does Bryn have any berries or tomatoes?” Mandy asked Elle. “Maybe we can use them to lure him away from the door.”

“Good idea. I’ll check. Be right back.” Elle disappeared into the house and returned a minute later with a small plastic bowl with three large strawberries in it. “Found some.” She pushed the door open a few inches, careful not to hit the tortoise’s shell, and passed the bowl through.

Mandy took it and picked up the largest berry. Holding it by the leaves, she waved it in front of the opening in the tortoise’s shell. The animal’s legs were drawn together just inside the shell, as if its tortoise knees were touching, providing a cover in front of its head. “Here, Spartacus. Here’s a beautiful strawberry, just for you.” She laughed as the tortoise’s legs slowly parted, and he carefully poked his head halfway out of the shell and sniffed at the berry. “It’s working.” She took a small step back and the tortoise’s head pushed further out, its neck pulsing like a bullfrog’s. “Come on, buddy.” She let the tortoise take a small nibble of the strawberry, then pulled it slowly back, trying to lure him away from the door.

Thrusting his legs fully out, his toenails clicked on the wooden slats of the front porch as he pushed himself up and took a slow, tentative step forward.

“He’s moving.” Mandy cheered as she let him take another bite. The red pulp of the fruit clung to his lips, making the girl giggle. “He looks like he’s wearing lipstick.”

Elle lifted her shoulder and pushed out her lips, effecting a pursed, kissy face. “It’s the latest rage, don’t you know? They’re calling it Very Strawberry, and everyone is wearing it.”

Mandy laughed again and pursed her lips. “Ooh la la. It’s the latest in turtle fashion.” She made kissing noises at the tortoise. “Come on, Spartacus, you’re making fashion history here.”

Brody shook his head. Not a chance in heck was he getting in on this game. But the tortoise was moving. He could easily pick it up and set it in the grass, but his daughter was having so much fun solving the dilemma with the fruit, he hated to take the victory from her.

Two strawberries and ten slow minutes later, the tortoise had finally moved from in front of the door. “Yay,” Elle said, clapping her hands, then pushing the door wide. “I’m free.”

“Were you going somewhere?”

Elle laughed, and the sound played over his ears and sent a wave of warmth through him. “I was going outside to look at the horses while I drank my coffee, but I’ve drained my cup while standing here checking out the turtle…er, tortoise, I mean. I had been thinking of making some breakfast. You two want to join me?”

“What are you makin’?” Mandy asked before Brody had a chance to reply.

Elle shrugged. “I don’t know. What are you hungry for? Eggs? Bacon? Pancakes? French toast?”

“Yes.”

“Yes to which ones?”

“Yes to all of them,” Mandy said resolutely. “And we can help. My dad makes the best pancakes.”

Elle cocked an eyebrow at Brody. “Here I thought your talents lay in running bravely into burning buildings and saving the lives of animals. Who knew you were also a skilled pancake chef?”

He lifted a shoulder. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents. I’m also pretty proficient at grilled cheese sandwiches, chocolate shakes, and getting tough stains out.”

“I’m impressed.”

“And he can french braid hair,” Mandy added, beaming in pride at her father.

Brody cringed. “Now we didn’t have to tell her that one. Just when I was starting to impress her.”

“What? French braiding hair is impressive. It’s hard. You watched like twenty YouTube videos to