Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(84)

“Oh no, you can’t, young man. She’s a princess, and a princess would never have a nickname like Ermie.”

“I’m glad I’m not a princess. Davey’s a better name, anyway.”

She grabbed him around the waist with one hand, tickling his ribs with the other. “Not for a princess.”

His knees buckled under him. But gamely, he reached for her ribs.

She was ticklish, too.

For as long as she could summon the strength, they played, each seeking to avoid the other’s fingers but grasping for tender places. Much too quickly, Perrie had to cry uncle.

“Okay, okay, you win.” Falling back against the pillows, she felt her head spin.

Davey rose above her, towheaded hair sticking out all over the place, sweaty curls around his scalp. Leaping to his feet, he danced around, arms lifted in victory. “Yay, I win! I’m the champion!”

“Watch it, Buster. Losers don’t like telling stories to winners who gloat.”

He turned a much-too-wise smile on her. “You like telling me stories.”

Reaching up to pull him close, she cradled him against her body, already conscious of how much he was growing…how soon he’d be too big to want this. “You know me too well.”



Outside the cabin, Mitch stood in the shadows, watching the two golden heads together through the window. He had heard their laughter from across the clearing, and it had called him like a siren. He would listen to this story and see what he might learn about this woman who had so many different faces.



Perrie snuggled Davey’s bony shoulders closer, smoothing his tousled blond hair. Their tussle had released that boy scent—a little sweet, a little sharp, a little of sweaty socks—the smell that seemed to be Davey’s alone.

She began the story.

“Ermengilda Trout was sure she was a princess. Of course, there were no mirrors in the river so she couldn’t be certain that her hair was long and flowing or her eyes like sparkling jewels. Henry Sunfish told her she was just an ugly old girl, but her mother smiled and said her scales shone beautifully in the sun.

“Bernie the Catfish, never very talkative, simply said, ‘Nothin’ wrong with dreamin’, child.’

“Ermengilda knew they were all wrong. She was a princess, and someday she would show them. Her prince would come and rescue her. He’d see past her scales and tail and bugging eyes, see inside her to the heart that beat strong and brave and true.

“One day she and Henry were playing. She looked up through water bright with sunlight. Up past teasing dragonflies. Up and straight into the face of what must surely be the Prince of the Pretty People.

“‘Pretty?’ Henry snorted. ‘He has no tail, you dumb old girl. He’s got stupid stringy black things sprouting from his head. His scales have no color. And his eyes—’ Here Henry shuddered. ‘They’re—eck—blue.’”

“Hey!” Davey complained, sitting up slightly. “My eyes are blue.”

“Shh,” Perrie urged. “Listen to what she says.”

“Okay,” he subsided, snuggling back down, his eyes growing heavy once more.

“Like mine, thought Ermengilda. Like my princess eyes. Maybe he’s the one. The one who’ll see me as I am.

“But to Henry, she merely replied, ‘That black stuff is called hair, silly. He has black hair.’

“‘What use is that?’ Henry protested. ‘It will only—eeek!’ He screamed and darted away from the giant arm that had plunged into the water.

“‘Swim, Ermengilda—swim for your life!’

“But she couldn’t. Because fingers were already tickling her tummy and she was laughing too hard to move.”

“Fish can’t laugh,” Davey interrupted. “Can they?”

“Are you so sure?”

“Unh-uh,” he replied sleepily.

“Well, Ermengilda’s no ordinary fish, you see.”

“So what happens next?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking about adding kissing and stuff.”

“Eck,” replied Davey. “Gross.”

“I don’t guess there has to be kissing, but usually when princes save princesses there’s at least a little kissing going on.”

“Could there be a sword fight first?”

Perrie smiled. “Who’s the prince going to fight?”

“The bad guy.” He opened his eyes again. “There’s got to be a bad guy, right, Mom?”

“Maybe.”

“Sure there does, so the prince can rescue the princess.” His eyes were closing, his voice growing soft. “I would rescue you, Mom, ’cause you’re like a princess.”