The murmur from below shifted. This time it was a song again, the rhythm matching Heart’s supernaturally speedy approach.
Flip stood taller, posed like a king, lamppost scepter straight in front of him, traffic light refinements flickering red, yellow, green, and cape of light bulbs shifting with little glass-bulb clatters.
I had no idea how he was powering that getup, but obviously Bigfoots knew their way around a light bulb.
Then Heart was there, on the opposite side of the stream. The music changed, switching to just the rhythm again, just a beat. But Heart didn’t wait for the song to become more. Heart hopped across the stones in the stream and was on the other side almost instantly.
Flip held still. So very still.
“Come on,” Ryder whispered. “You got this.”
I was holding my breath.
Then Heart pressed a palm to the lamp post, walked around Flip, one finger trailing over glass and filament, and stopped in front of him again.
Heart’s palm rested against the traffic light, right over Flip’s heart.
Flip made a very small questioning sound. Heart answered in a sweet warble, touched Flip’s cheek, then scooped up Flip’s free hand.
The Bigfoots clapped, louder this time. There was laughter and relief in the voices as they left the clearing, walking arm in arm to disappear into the trees.
I exhaled. “Aw, he got his Heart. Lucky guy.”
Ryder’s arms tightened around me. “Yeah. I know how he feels.”
“Ryder Bailey, are you going romantic on me?”
“Maybe.”
“I approve. Let’s go back to the cabin.”
“But they’re still doing stuff down there.” He sounded like a little kid who wanted an extra scoop of ice cream. “Bigfoot stuff.”
They were still doing Bigfoot stuff. As a matter of fact, it looked like the reunion was just getting started. There was a lot of hooting and hollering. It was loud and was probably only going to get louder.
“Well, you go ahead and stay here. I’m going back to the cabin, the fireplace, and the wine. Also, I plan to be naked.”
Ryder let go of me so quickly, I laughed. “Get moving, Mrs. Hyphen.” He held his hand out for me, and I took it. “We’ve got a vacation to get to.”
The Bigfoots shouted and howled. Loud. They were really loud.
Something moved in the brush near the house, and a steaming Bigfoot dashed away through the trees.
“Was that guy in our hot tub?” Ryder clicked on his flashlight and sent the beam after the disappearing interloper. “He was in our hot tub!”
I laughed.
The chorus of voices only increased as we trudged uphill through the snow.
Another Bigfoot appeared several yards to our left, rolling a huge boulder. He gave it a push, sending it down the hill. But his aim was off. It smashed into a tree, cracking the trunk and sending great globs of snow tothunkto the ground.
“Just the two of us,” Ryder said, as the Bigfoot made a sound like swearing, then pushed the boulder to one side to send it rolling down the hill again.
The Bigfoot held still, watching. We held still, watching.
Finally a huge splash sounded as the boulder plowed into the stream. A cheer rose up from the glade below.
There was another rumble, another splash, and more cheering.
