striped patches on the sides of their necks. The neck, head, and rump were blue-grey. Cinnamon wings were mottled with black. A black beak contrasted with red-rimmed eyes.
“ They usually feed on the ground. So predators are sometimes a problem for them. But they’re pretty smart birds and mostly keep to the trees.”
Lucy sighed. “They’re lovely. I do so love their call. So soft and pleasing.”
The bird called again. A strange noise. Almost as if it rolled its tongue inside its beak, creating a low vibrating sound.
Oliver pulled away and placed his hands on her shoulders. “They make other sounds, too, but in this case, they’re talking to each other. I love to come here and listen to them converse.”
“ What do you suppose they are saying?”
“ I imagine they’re talking of their day. The ups and downs.”
“ And of their children? The ones to hatch soon?”
“ Certainly. They might be suggesting possible names for their babies.”
Lucy giggled. “Do you suppose so?”
“ Children need names, do they not? The doves can’t very well call them to dinner by bird one, two, and three.”
Laughter shook her shoulders. “No. That might make number two and three jealous of the other being referred to as number one. As if he were more important that the rest.”
“ Absolutely.” He settled his chin on her shoulder, again touching his face to hers. His cheek rose in a smile.
“ Are the doves a… faithful type of bird?”
“ You mean to each other?”
“ Yes.”
“ Oh, yes, quite. That’s one reason they are sometimes called love birds . Because of their affinity toward each other once paired.”
“ That’s so sweet.”
They stood for several minutes watching the doves, listening to the back and forth discussion, a s warmth from the dappled sun thorough the tree branches surrounded them. Heat from his chest coursed across her back, running through her core. Thoughts of turning, facing him, holding him floated through her mind. What would it be like to do that… and more? To wrap her arms around his neck, pull him close, press her lips to his? Surely it would be heaven.
His voice came soft as a summer breeze. “We seem to have an affinity for like things, do we not?”
Startled out of her daydream, she swallowed hard. Thank goodness he couldn’t read her thoughts! How wanton she would seem if he could. “I believe that we do.”
“ It’s quite nice to have someone with whom to enjoy the birds. They are such a large part of my life. I do admire them so.” He pulled away and moved to stand beside her. He reached for her hand and held it tight.
A smile tugged on her lips. “Yes. The more I’m acquainted with them, the more I want to know. They are each and every one fascinating creatures.” She bit her lip. “Especially the cuckoo.”
Oliver’s loud laugh startled nearby duck s. Wings flapped and bills quacked and proop-prooped . Raising his other hand toward the birds, Oliver waved. “Sorry old chaps. I’m afraid I was overcome by mirth. You may feel free to put the blame at Lucy’s feet.”
With her hand, her hand not resting comfortably and warm in Oliver’s, she lightly slapped his shoulder. “ Oliver . What must the ducks think of me now?”
“ I can’t imagine the male duck who took a fancy to Lofton would have any great affinity toward you.”
Lucy sputtered out a laugh. “If that duck had such affections for me, I might find myself worried.”
“ And I might find myself jealous.” Red, instant and dark, appeared from his forehead to his collar. “Oh… I…”
Pleased to no end, although embarrassed herself, Lucy squeezed his hand. “What a wonderful compliment. Thank you.”
He lowered his lashes and gazed directly at her lips. “If my discomfort leads to your enjoyment, then I would gladly say the words again.”
“ You would?”
He nodded. “Anytime. Anywhere.”
He leaned closer. His breath smelled of mint and the outdoors. What would his
“ They usually feed on the ground. So predators are sometimes a problem for them. But they’re pretty smart birds and mostly keep to the trees.”
Lucy sighed. “They’re lovely. I do so love their call. So soft and pleasing.”
The bird called again. A strange noise. Almost as if it rolled its tongue inside its beak, creating a low vibrating sound.
Oliver pulled away and placed his hands on her shoulders. “They make other sounds, too, but in this case, they’re talking to each other. I love to come here and listen to them converse.”
“ What do you suppose they are saying?”
“ I imagine they’re talking of their day. The ups and downs.”
“ And of their children? The ones to hatch soon?”
“ Certainly. They might be suggesting possible names for their babies.”
Lucy giggled. “Do you suppose so?”
“ Children need names, do they not? The doves can’t very well call them to dinner by bird one, two, and three.”
Laughter shook her shoulders. “No. That might make number two and three jealous of the other being referred to as number one. As if he were more important that the rest.”
“ Absolutely.” He settled his chin on her shoulder, again touching his face to hers. His cheek rose in a smile.
“ Are the doves a… faithful type of bird?”
“ You mean to each other?”
“ Yes.”
“ Oh, yes, quite. That’s one reason they are sometimes called love birds . Because of their affinity toward each other once paired.”
“ That’s so sweet.”
They stood for several minutes watching the doves, listening to the back and forth discussion, a s warmth from the dappled sun thorough the tree branches surrounded them. Heat from his chest coursed across her back, running through her core. Thoughts of turning, facing him, holding him floated through her mind. What would it be like to do that… and more? To wrap her arms around his neck, pull him close, press her lips to his? Surely it would be heaven.
His voice came soft as a summer breeze. “We seem to have an affinity for like things, do we not?”
Startled out of her daydream, she swallowed hard. Thank goodness he couldn’t read her thoughts! How wanton she would seem if he could. “I believe that we do.”
“ It’s quite nice to have someone with whom to enjoy the birds. They are such a large part of my life. I do admire them so.” He pulled away and moved to stand beside her. He reached for her hand and held it tight.
A smile tugged on her lips. “Yes. The more I’m acquainted with them, the more I want to know. They are each and every one fascinating creatures.” She bit her lip. “Especially the cuckoo.”
Oliver’s loud laugh startled nearby duck s. Wings flapped and bills quacked and proop-prooped . Raising his other hand toward the birds, Oliver waved. “Sorry old chaps. I’m afraid I was overcome by mirth. You may feel free to put the blame at Lucy’s feet.”
With her hand, her hand not resting comfortably and warm in Oliver’s, she lightly slapped his shoulder. “ Oliver . What must the ducks think of me now?”
“ I can’t imagine the male duck who took a fancy to Lofton would have any great affinity toward you.”
Lucy sputtered out a laugh. “If that duck had such affections for me, I might find myself worried.”
“ And I might find myself jealous.” Red, instant and dark, appeared from his forehead to his collar. “Oh… I…”
Pleased to no end, although embarrassed herself, Lucy squeezed his hand. “What a wonderful compliment. Thank you.”
He lowered his lashes and gazed directly at her lips. “If my discomfort leads to your enjoyment, then I would gladly say the words again.”
“ You would?”
He nodded. “Anytime. Anywhere.”
He leaned closer. His breath smelled of mint and the outdoors. What would his
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