An Unlikely Rancher. Roz Fox Denny
loose feathers can safely be plucked.” Jenna gazed through the fence at the tall, gangly birds. “We’ll have to blindfold them, though, to help keep them calm.”
“My teacher used one at Tessa’s birthday party when we pinned the tail on the donkey.”
“The very same... Maybe I was too hasty in firing Mr. Winkleman,” Jenna muttered. “I suspect there’s an art to plucking feathers.”
“Is that the blindfold?” Andee asked, pointing to what looked like a black silk scarf draped over the doorknob of the small shed.
“Sharp eyes. I didn’t notice it hanging there.” Rising, Jenna walked over and picked the item up. “I bet you’re right, Andee. This is soft. It’s folded and sewn so it can be tied.”
“I’m not big enough to help.”
“No, you’re not.” Hauling in a deep breath, Jenna slowly let it out. “I sank all of our money into this operation. I need to buck up and do this.”
Just as she made the proclamation, the same airplane she’d seen and complained about to Flynn Sutton appeared over the row of hills and climbed slowly and noisily as it passed over the ostrich pens like a giant predator. As before, the birds ran in circles when the plane momentarily blocked the sun.
Squinting, Andee tipped her head back. “Is that Mr. Flynn? Do you think Beezer is with him?”
Jenna, who’d held her breath as she’d watched her flock scatter in disarray, didn’t answer until Andee pressed her again. “I don’t think it’s his plane, sweetheart. And Flynn is his first name. Anyway, I doubt his dog flies with him.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. That was me guessing. On the other hand, dogs love to ride in cars... I just wish the pilot would stop flying right over our pens. Listen, I’m going to attempt to gather feathers. If you come stand by this fence, you can see into the small pen. I’ll shoo three or four birds in and see if I can blindfold them one at a time. But don’t you laugh if I mess up,” Jenna ordered, grinning at her daughter.
Andee didn’t laugh; she grew solemn. “What if they bite you, Mommy?”
“Then I’ll turn them loose and definitely hire someone tomorrow to take Mr. Winkleman’s place.”
Nervous, Jenna took the blindfold and marched into the big pen. Opening the gate to the smaller one, she waved the blindfold and cornered four ostriches. As if they knew the drill, the birds high-stepped into the small enclosure. Feeling a tad smug, Jenna smiled to herself—until she saw it was a bin of cracked corn clipped to a rail of the fence that had enticed the ostriches.
After three tries, she managed to tie the silk scarf around one bird’s eyes. It stood still enough for her to move to its back. She gingerly tested a few of the longer feathers. One slipped right out. Afraid of hurting the bird, she worked slowly across the tail until the ostrich grew antsy and began digging its claws into the sandy soil. She only had a dozen or so feathers in her bag. All the same, she untied the blindfold and caught the next bird.
“Are you getting lots of feathers?” Andee called.
“Not so many,” Jenna said. “If Mommy doesn’t get better at this, we won’t be supporting ourselves on feathers.”
The second ostrich was larger and she was more successful. Developing a rhythm, Jenna moved to bird number three. She’d barely tied the blindfold when her cell phone rang to the tune of “Bolero” she’d programmed into it. The penned ostriches hissed and bolted at the raucous noise.
Clamping her teeth together, Jenna yanked off one glove and fumbled the phone out of her pocket. “Hello?” she said loudly, fully prepared to tell her sister she’d have to call her back, because who else would phone her?
Before the caller responded, Andee let out a shrill scream, ending in a wail.
“Mommeee! Momm...eee! That bad bird took Cubby Bear.”
Jenna could see Andee shake the fence as she climbed up the rails and extended her arms toward a strutting ostrich that indeed had the stuffed bear by an ear. The bird vigorously shook the toy from side to side.
She hurriedly stripped the blindfold off bird three and hollered, “Stop! Drop that this instant. Oh, for Pete’s sake.”
Scrambling out of the pen, she waved the phone she forgot she had in her hand. Keeping her quarry in sight, she plowed a path through a flock of birds that had begun to chatter.
“Is everything all right?” Jenna heard a disembodied masculine voice waft from her phone.
“Who is this?” she demanded, bringing the phone to her ear, chasing the ostrich that still had a grip on Cubby.
The child’s wailing had risen to a siren’s pitch.
“It’s Flynn. I repeat, is everything all right?”
“No, it’s not,” Jenna said. “An ostrich has Cubby, and Andee is throwing a fit. Whatever you need, you’ll have to call me later.”
“Uh, sure. Can I help?”
Jenna stuck the phone back into her pocket without answering. She waved her arms at the offending bird.
“Andee, please hush! Your crying is making trapping him harder.”
Of course she didn’t stop crying; she wanted her toy. However, she did cut the decibel level enough for Jenna to slow the ostrich, who ran in circles around her. She discovered that an ostrich could cover a lot of ground on those long, spindly legs.
Wishing she had brought some of the cracked corn with her, she took a calming breath and figured out a way to cordon off the thieving bird. Having foiled his escape route, she swatted his scrawny neck with a glove. The ostrich swung around to peck her, dropping the bear. Triumphant, Jenna grabbed Cubby by a leg—but not before the ostrich drilled her left arm with its beak.
Trying not to react—sure her shirt had a hole and afraid her arm was bleeding—she hurried out the gate.
Andee ran to her, arms outstretched.
As Jenna looked for any damage to the bear and herself, she decided this was not a good beginning to ostrich ranching.
Her phone rang again. Once more the birds closest to the fence stampeded for a canopy.
“Yes? Hello?” Jenna did her best to keep her voice calm.
“It’s Flynn Sutton again. What in blazes is going on over there? I’m at the airpark. Do you and the kid need help?”
“No, but thanks for asking.” Jenna sagged against the metal fence rails. “It’s a long story and I won’t bore you with details. I’m sure you didn’t call to check on my well-being—the first time.”
“Uh, no. I called because the air-conditioning guy can check out the unit today. I have an appointment in town at four that I expect will take about an hour. He said he’d stop by at five. But he thought since you own the place, it’d be a good idea if you were there.”
Jenna looked at her watch. It was three forty-five. She didn’t know where the day had gone. She had maybe a hundred feathers for her effort. Andee had Cubby in a body-lock—but she’d retreated to the side of the shed, where she now huddled, looking anxious.
“That was a mighty sigh,” Flynn said. “Look, if it’s inconvenient for you to get away, I’ll make that clear. I’ll have the repair guy write an estimate. But if you don’t mind, I’ll drop it by this evening. I’d like to have it fixed ASAP. I don’t relish sleeping in an oven.”
“My problems aren’t yours, but your problem with the air conditioner is mine. I’ll clean up and be there at five. Maybe it’ll be something the repairman can fix today.”
“I hope so. Thanks. If I’m not right there on the dot, the repairman’s name is J. D. Fuller. He should