A melting thrill runs through her from head to toe as he presses her kiss to his heart, and she smiles, soft and aching and just a little pleased. "Pretty sure I was born without the 'quitter' gene."

He starts towards the path and she falls in to follow him back out again, into the dappled shade of the thicket. "So who do you think's won? The goats or the children?"

If whatever game they were playing could be said to have winners.