Horse Feathers by Bonnie Bryant Page A

sound stern and parental. “No more day passes from the box. Understood?” Number One blinked, tilting his head slightly at her words. He was so cute that Stevie almost lost her train of thought.
    Gathering her wits, Stevie said, “And don’t think that’s going to work on me. That. What you’re doing with your head, Number One. Or you, Number Five.Don’t think that innocent, adoring little look that you’re giving me is going to work.”
    Number Five quacked happily and ruffled his feathers, watching her with big doting eyes.
    “Playtime will be restricted to home base, which in your case is Exhibit A.” Stevie pointed to the brooder. “See? Plenty of room. You’ve got your water dish over there, your food dish right there, nice warm snuggly heat coming off the bulbs. There’s absolutely no need to leave the box.
    “This is your space. And that”—Stevie indicated the bedroom—“is my space. And contrary to what you may believe, my space is
not
your space. Are we clear on this?”
    Stevie was answered with six pairs of eyes gazing at her lovingly. “Is that a yes?” she asked after a moment.
    “Quack!” Number One seemed to answer for the group. Either that or he was just hungry.
    “Good,” said Stevie. “I’m glad we’ve settled that.”
    Stevie checked on the two wiggling eggs in the incubator, then grabbed her pillow off the bed and snuggled down next to the brooder. The lack of sleep from the night before was beginning to catch up with her, and watching Seven and Eight wiggle in the incubator was beginning to have a hypnotic effect. Pretty soon, she could barely keep her eyes open.
    She blinked sleepily.
It wouldn’t hurt to close my eyes for just a few moments
, she thought. Especially since she knew it would still be a few hours before Seven and Eight hatched. Plus that way, she reasoned, she’d be able to stay up later in case any of the other goslings decided to hatch that night. With that thought, Stevie’s eyelids closed and she was instantly sound asleep.
    Stevie thought she was dreaming. Something was tickling her face. It was soft and feathery and reminded her of when Alex teased her with a buttercup or a feather under her chin while she was sleeping. But these feathers were soft and warm against her cheek. Slowly, Stevie became aware of another sensation, a tickling of feathers against her hand where it rested on her stomach.
    Stevie’s mind slowly cleared from the foggy haze of sleep. She opened her eyes, disoriented for a moment. Then she saw the brooder and it all came back to her. But as she tried to move, her ear encountered a warm fuzzy mass of gosling fluff sharing the pillow next to her head. She very cautiously raised her head and glanced down her body. Sure enough, all six little goslings had somehow managed to escape the brooder and were now snuggled up next to her. One by her ear, one next to her cheek, one by her hand, and three in her arms.
    Stevie laughed. It was the cutest sight she’d ever seen. “Okay, so much for the staying-in-the-box rule.”
    She sat up, careful not to squash any of her little charges. But the moment Stevie moved, the goslings awoke and began honking at her for disturbing their warm bed. “Sorry, guys, but one of us still has homework to do.” She paused. “And, let me remind you, homework from the night before as well. So, everybody up.”
    As she placed the six quacking little goslings back in their nursery, she realized that she was going to have to make the brooder larger and taller, since the goslings could escape so easily as it was. Plus, she’d read that goslings grew quite quickly and would likely outgrow the box completely in a few weeks. The goslings quacked indignantly at being returned to their box. It seemed that they much preferred Stevie’s space to theirs.
    “Much as I’d like to stay and chat,” Stevie told them, “if I plan to get to bed early tonight, I need to get my homework done.” She turned toward her desk.