Two seconds. She’d scaled her suitcase and straddled the porch rail within two seconds of something pecking at her calf.
    Breathing harder than the half sprint should’ve warranted, Callie pushed back her hair to find that stinking rooster scrambling to get to her again. “Shoo.” She waved him off with her hat. “Go on. Hey. No, let go.”
    The feisty thing latched on to the rope tassel around the hat and pulled in the opposite direction.
    She looked from the hat to her feathered attacker and forfeited her new purchase. It didn’t fit anyway.
    Evidently, it didn’t suit him either. Black and white speckled wings expanded in the air as the rooster sprang from the hat onto the suitcase.
    Callie shrieked. Defenseless, she held her purse between them as a shield. But when the rooster perched himself on the fence and stared her down, she couldn’t help laughing. This bird couldn’t be for real. What was he doing? Challenging her to a cockfight? She patted her head. Surely her post-plane-ride hair wasn’t funky enough to pass for a rooster’s comb.
    “Everything all right, ma’am?” someone called behind her.
    She flinched again—this time, losing her balance completely. She only caught a glimpse of her purse falling in the opposite direction before landing flat on her back beside a gnome she swore was cackling at her.
    The rusty gate clanked together, followed by the thump of the guy’s knees hitting the dirt beside her. “Ma’am?”
    The shadow of a cowboy hat stretched across her face just before eyes green enough to make Sage Valley’s hills jealous met hers.
    Tell me I’m hallucinating.
    Callie closed her eyes. Opened them. Nope, still there.
    “Are you okay?”
    “That depends.” She pulled a snapped bluebonnet stem from her hair. “How much of that did you see?”
    The corner of his mouth twitched. “Enough to know you have some guts to take on Elvis.”
    Callie blinked at him. “I’m sorry, did you just call that rooster Elvis?” Where in the world was she?