He waves the rifle. “That’s what this is for. They’re probably stalking the cattle, which is why I just dispatched a kill team. But, should they come back this way, I’m ready for them.” He tips his hat back and looks at me like I’m crazy. “Clip the walkie to your belt, or set it on the hood, and come help me. We have to repair this fence before anything else decides to just stroll on in.”
Is he serious? He wants me to get out of the truck and come help him fix a broken fence… when a coyote can sneak up on us and eat me?!
I don’t know how to fix a fence!
I screech. “I don’t know how to do that, Falcon!”
He smirks and his eyes crinkle. “Well, now’s as good a time as any to learn. Don’t ya think?!” He sets the rifle against the side of the truck and turns to the back. Turning, I watch him through the back window. He grabs some wood and a hammer, walks to the side of the truck and sets them down, and looks back at me again. He sighs. “Icando this myself, but it will go much faster if you help me. I’m sure not even you can screw up holding a board in place while I nail it.”
Oh, of course I can hold a freaking board.
Growling, I open the door and jump out, making certain to slam it behind me. Falcon doesn’t even look up. He just grabs a box of something and a crowbar before walking back to the fence. He pulls some leather gloves on, that were in his back pocket, and uses the crowbar to remove the broken pieces of board.
Setting the walkie talkie on the hood, by the windshield, I walk over to him and set my hands into my back pockets, uncertain of what he wants me to do.
He doesn’t turn around as he jerks his chin toward the ground. “Grab a pair of gloves from the tool box in the back of the truck and toss those boards and the one’s I’m removing into the back of the truck. Once I’m ready. I’ll have you hold the new boards in place while I secure them.”
Oh really? He just expects that he’ll order me around and I’ll do what he says?!
I glare at him, but he never even acknowledges me. Like he just assumes I’m going to follow his orders.
Finally, I roll my eyes and stomp to the back of the truck to find some gloves. No sense in ruining my hands and getting a splinter!
Once, I find a pair that fits reasonably, though they’re still too big, I stomp back and reach for the rough wooden boards on the ground. The weight of if surprises me and I stumble as I stand back up. My boot heel digs into a tuft of grass and I start to lose my balance.
Oh, hell no. I am NOT falling in front of Falcon Donovan again!
I refuse!
I wiggle and shake to try to find my center of gravity and with a lot of effort, I manage to remain standing; though my knees are turned in, my ass is poked out, and I’m certain I look like a bow-legged chicken. But, I’m still standingandI still have the stupid board in my hands.
Ha!
Eliza– 1
Stupid Bumpy Texas Ground– 0
Glancing at Falcon, I let out a relieved sigh that my undignified act seems to have escaped him.
I hoist the board and consider swinging it into the side of his head before walking to the back of the truck to toss it in. As it hits the worn bed, the resounding thump gives me a deep sense of satisfaction and I jump up in the air with an excited, “Yeah!”
Now, just five more to load up!
Falcon
I can’t letMiss Fancy Pants see the broad grin on my face as I rip the last of the boards from the fence posts.
She almost wiped out again and I’m not sure just what that dance she did to remain standing was, but it was some entertaining.
I also didn’t miss the quick look she sent my way to make sure Ididn’tsee it.
Oh, I so did.
And, it was great.
She was some kind of proud of herself for throwing a board into the back of my truck.
Turning, I pick up three of the boards from the ground and sling them over my shoulder to dump them into the bed of the truck. Eliza’s eyes narrow on me and she leans down to pick up two of the larger pieces of the broken boards. She grunts and I grin as she struggles. “How about you stick to one at a time and let me handle the heavy lifting?”
