(This is Part 11 of Fortune Cookie: A Christmas Tale)
Rosalyn sniffled. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually such an idiot. Just go. I’ll be fine.”
“Come here.”
Fortune Cookie
Part 1: Will it ruin Christmas and a chance at love?
Part 2: The crunch of metal on stone
Part 3: Blood covered her hand
Part 4: 'Heads up! Loose horse!'
Part 5: Blood dripped onto the tablecloth
Part 6: The ground loomed up at the woman
Part 7: Something fuzzy and wiggly tickled her neck
Part 8: The duo cast a long shadow on the leaf-strewn ground
Bodie pulled Rosalyn into his arms. His touch sent a warming sensation up Rosalyn's arm. He smelled like sage, the wild kind in the mountains, not the spice rack version. “It’s just work, and we can do it.”
Rosalyn nodded into his shoulder. A moment later, she pulled away, and took a deep breath. “OK, I’ll take you up on the offer. I don’t see how I’ll ever get this fixed.”
"Shoot, that ain't nothing but a little speed bump, and I got four-wheel-drive,” he said. “No, no. Don’t say it. You’re welcome.”
The corners of Rosalyn’s mouth curved upward in the slightest smile.
On the way to the shattered fence, Rosalyn opened the gate and turned Excalibur loose with his horse friends. The hot wire had survived the ordeal and would hold everybody in place for the moment. The concrete-embedded post was a problem though. It would take hours to dig out. There was no way to get to it with machinery, unless all the horses were sent back to their stalls.
Rosalyn kicked the pile of broken boards. “Idiot horses! Idiot people that own horses! Idiot person that put this post in cement!”
A blue jay screeched and launched itself into the air. Bodie knelt down. He filled his arms with the smaller broken pieces and handed them to Rosalyn. “Here, take a little time for yourself and put these in your dumpster.” Rosalyn took the wood. Her eyes remained carefully averted in case, well, she got distracted by him again.
By the time she returned, Bodie had half her tool collection pulled out and scattered around the offending post. New boards lay nearby. They each took up a posthole digger and dug in silence.
Excalibur watched the humans, ears pointed. The horse walked a few steps. He eased behind Rosalyn, placing each foot carefully, almost silently. The horse lowered his muzzle, and ran his lips over the handle of the hammer lying on the ground. Excalibur closed his mouth around the hammer handle. He whirled away and broke into a run, the hammer still in his mouth.
“Excalibur, get back here!” Rosalyn straightened, and hand on her hip, pointed to the spot where the hammer had lain, as if the gelding were some sort of dog that would come on command. “Whoa!”
Excalibur flagged his tail high above his back and shook his head.
(Next: 'Never get involved with a man to whom you owe money')
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