“Don’t you like sugar cookies, Larry? Okay, they’re not my favorites, either. Let’s try a Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookie. That’s got cornflakes in it and I’ll bet you like cornflakes for breakfast. Or maybe Winnie doesn’t give you cornflakes. How about oatmeal? I think I see one of Hannah’s Oatmeal Raisin Crisps.”

Hannah tested the gate. It wasn’t locked. She could step in at any time. She did her best not to think about the dire consequences that could follow her action, but her mind continued to drown her in a cascade of scenarios. The bull would attack her, pin her to the rails, and gore her. That was the first scenario. The second scenario had the bull turning on Andrea and attacking her instead of Hannah. But if that happened, Hannah would still be in danger because Bill would attack her the minute he got back from Florida. The third scenario was a little less ugly but equally scary. The bull wouldn’t attack anyone, but he’d start bellowing, and Winnie would come out with her shotgun and shoot both Hannah and Andrea. There was also a fourth scenario and Hannah liked that one the best. The bull would fall in love with Hannah’s cookies, become her mascot at The Cookie Jar, and sit beside Moishe on one of the tables by the front window, sniffing cookies the way Disney’s Ferdinand had sniffed flowers.

“Hannah!” Andrea’s voice roused her from the last and most ridiculous scenario. “What are you waiting for? Larry likes Peanut Butter Melts and I’ve only got two left!”

“Okay,” Hannah said and opened the gate to the pen. She slipped inside, went straight to the box on the wall, and opened it. “Jackpot,” she breathed, pulling out a plastic bag. But it was far too light to include a gun, even a prop gun. They’d struck out and put themselves in danger for nothing!

“Hurry, Hannah. I’m on the last cookie and Larry doesn’t like anything but peanut butter.”

“Okay. I’m almost through.” Hannah exited the bullpen without incident and made sure the gate was securely latched behind her. She was just preparing to give Andrea the bad news when all the lights in the barn went on.

“Freeze, you varmints! I’ve got you covered six ways to Sunday!”

Hannah glanced toward the door to see Winnie heading toward them, a shotgun cradled in her arms. She was about to raise her arms in surrender and advise Andrea to do the same when she realized that Winnie wasn’t wearing her glasses.

“Down,” she hissed, pushing her sister down in the hay. “Follow me. We’ll hug the side wall of the barn and crawl out.”

“But

won’t Winnie see us?”