Page 11 of It’s A Little Bit Bunny (Fangs on Ice #4)

Ten

Jules

I missed Nikolai from the moment he stepped through the arch between my forest and the labyrinth.

He probably only said he would be back so I would help him. He had every right. Who in their right mind trusts the Hoimann?

Yet a seed of hope took hold in my soul. It spread its roots through my body as I deep cleaned my house and stocked up on whatever food I could find.

The week crept by and flew past at the same time. One moment it was Monday afternoon and the weekend seemed ages away, the next it was Thursday afternoon, and I harvested rhubarb with Barnabas to make a pie for my guest.

Time is an illusion.

All week, I made mental notes of what I wanted to show him: my orchard, the chickens, my greenhouse, the fish pond with the water lilies that would start blooming pink in a few short weeks. My bedroom.

Every time I thought about the promise I made, my heart swelled with excitement, constricting my airways.

What if he didn’t mean what you think he meant?

“What then, Barnabas?” I cut a few more rhubarb stalks, removed the large leaves and added the stalks to my basket.

My pet looked over from where he sniffed an interesting patch of earth, cocking his antlered head at me.

“You’re right. Then I will at least know. No, let me get a few more. Nobody likes a dry rhubarb pie.”

He turned his focus back on the earth before him, digging with his front paws and pulling out a fat worm.

“Good boy,” I said and reminisced about Nikolai calling him that last weekend.

“I just want to be called a good boy, too. Is that too much to ask?”

Barnabas huffed, half the worm dangling from his mouth.

“Right? It’s a reasonable wish to have for a four-hundred-thirty-three-year old.”