Witcher Upper - Amy Boyles Page 0,35

ground. “What in the…?”

He winked, obviously proud of himself. “I don’t remember the fundamentals of magic, but in the past few minutes I’ve worked a few things out.”

“Like how to have superhuman strength?” What if he decided to use his strength on someone else, like me?

“It’s not strength,” he said. “It’s levitation.” He winked again, this time full of mischief. “Had you fooled, didn’t I?”

A wave of worry dissolved, and I found myself laughing despite myself. “You did. Come on. Let’s get them up.”

We reinforced the poles with the help of the hammer, and then set about repairing the wood planks on the outside. We did as many of those by hand as we could, without the use of the hammer, as I didn’t want our luck to run out.

Rufus surprised me. He whistled while he worked, asking for my lead in things, but generally he listened to a little bit of direction and took off. He worked on his own, which I liked.

We repaired a lot of the facade. One last thing that I wanted to accomplish was transforming the front sliding doors into glass French doors. Feeling confident, I figured Rufus and I could frame them out—with the help of my hammer, that was.

“Are you sure about that?” Rufus asked. “Your luck’s been good.”

I scoffed. “I have the feeling we can get one more good fix out of this.”

“If you say so,” he murmured.

His tone suggested that he doubted it, but I ignored him. “The framing on these needs to be completed. If we can show Dooley that we’re ready for the French doors to come in, he’ll be super impressed.”

Rufus studied the area. “I’m sure he will be.”

He said it without confidence. Well, I’d show him. It was my turn to have the upper hand between us. I took a two-by-four and placed it to the barn, nail in hand.

“Okay, we just need to finish framing this.” I lifted the hammer and gave the nail one good whack.

Next thing I knew, the frame was finished. I brushed my hands and stared at Rufus, proud. “Looks like we did it.”

He nodded. “Looks like.”

“Let’s get out of here.” I called Lady, who was scratching her back against the floor. At the sound of her name, she jumped up and padded over.

I tossed the tools into the back of the pickup and slid behind the wheel. “All right. Let’s get you back to the bed and breakfast.”

“I could use a shower,” he said. “And a change of clothes.”

“Well, you never know. Maybe Malene dropped something off while you were out.”

“That would be nice. Leather is great, but what I wouldn’t give for cotton—now that would be fantastic.”

Understanding the feeling, I smiled. Hey, I loved soft fabric as much as the next gal. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

I plugged the key into the ignition and turned, but nothing happened. Hoping this was no more than a coincidence, I turned the key again, but still nothing. The engine didn’t turn over; it didn’t even sputter.

My truck was dead.

Thank you, golden hammer.

“It’s broken,” Rufus said.

Irritation raced through me. This day had been absolute crap. Growling, I pushed out of the truck and slammed the door. Now I would need a tow.

One glance at my phone told me that it was dead, too. Super awesome. The golden hammer had delivered a double whammy. See? This was why I only used it in extreme circumstances.

Rufus exited the truck. “Any way of calling anyone?”

I shook my head. “We’ll have to walk back into town.”

He picked up Lady and put her on his shoulders. I wanted to argue, to tell him to put my dog down, but I let it go. This day had wrung me out to dry.

We’d only walked a few steps when I felt the first raindrop on the top of my head.

Rufus glanced over at me. “Looks like we’d better hurry before we get drenched.”

I grabbed my tool belt from the back of the pickup and quietly cursed the hammer. “That’s the last time I use you.”

Chapter 14

The first store we came to, Rufus and I ducked inside. Honestly it could have been a museum of the weird and fantastical and I wouldn’t have cared. All that mattered was getting out of the rain.

We stepped into Willard’s Pharmacy, a place straight from the past. On one side of the business stood the practical end, the actual pharmacy part, and on the other sat an old-fashioned soda shop with a dining counter where