Page 29 of A Bridge to a Troll's Heart
As Toby hammeredin the last nail of what surely had been thousands of nails, a bead of sweat trickled down his neck despite the winter’s cold. Building was harder work than Toby’d realized before this, but thankfully he’d had Timothy’s help the whole way. Reed warblers serenaded in the background as they put the finishing touches on their project.
“Good job, Toby.” Timothy’s hand came down on his shoulder in a friendly pat. “Arlo is going to love it.”
Toby sat on his heels and admired their work, though he didn’t have Timothy’s confidence. “How can you be certain?”
Timothy knelt next to him and gentled his voice. “Of course he’ll love the gift, brother. Because you made it for him. And this is a fine bridge too. Well designed, built with care, and serving its purpose in the way a troll must admire.”
The little bridge they’d constructed over the creek that passed by his cottage had a certain charm. The walkway was nothing compared to Arlo’s massive bridge over Red Elk River, but hopefully, the troll would like it anyway. The arch curved elegantly in the middle, the freshly chopped wood had a distinguished scent, and the handrails were sanded to smooth perfection.
Beside the creek, they’d added a swinging chair. It hung from a sturdy branch of an old sycamore that shaded the whole yard in springtime. Arlo would be able to rest comfortably, swinging in this chair and dipping his toes in the water if he liked while he guarded this bridge right next to Toby’s cottage.
Toby sighed. “I hope it works.”
Timothy let out a bright chuckle. “Arlo wants to be here. That much is obvious to everyone but Arlo.” He gestured to their finished project. “Don’t worry. This is all he needs to make the change.”
“It is a lovely bridge.” Before this, Toby had used a fallen tree to cross the creek. The little bridge was a huge improvement, but would it be enough to satisfy a troll as grand as Arlo?
Toby cleaned up the supplies, swept the bridge of sawdust, and stood back to consider his pitch.
He didn’t want Arlo to give up Red Elk River Bridge entirely, only to spend part of his time at Toby’s cottage guarding this new bridge instead. By dividing their time between the two, they’d get to be part of the pack life Toby had always loved, and they’d still have time alone together at Arlo’s den. He’d only have to convince the troll of his plan. Hopefully, on Christmas Eve, as he desperately wanted Arlo to be a part of his family’s traditions this year. It would be so nice to wake up together in Toby’s cottage on Christmas morning.
Arlo had this completely uncharming way of charming absolutely everyone he met. That he didn’t seem to realize he possessed this skill only made him all the more endearing. The whole pack had warmed to Arlo and accepted his presence at their feast of thanks. Toby had worried his family wouldn’t approve or that they would think Toby strange for choosing a partner from another species. But his concerns had been needless. To his relief, they’d taken the addition in stride.
Of course they did. They loved him after all. Sometimes it was easy to forget that.
“I’m headed home,” said Timothy, stirring Toby from his thoughts. “Bring Arlo by the big house tomorrow once you’re done here, all right? Gran has a favor to ask.”
That sparked Toby’s curiosity. “I will, brother. Thanks for all the help.”
“My pleasure.” Timothy waved good-bye.
With the holidays beginning tomorrow, there was much to be done. Normally, Toby would be helping, but they’d all let him off the hook to work on his construction project. Whether or not Arlo took the bait, he was proud of the bridge. He’d never done anything like this before and wondered what else he could build now that he knew the basics. Perhaps a treehouse for the pack’s children. Maybe Arlo would want to help.
Toby put the tools away and went inside to wash up. His fickle mood bordered on giddy excitement one minute and nervous tension the next. In his eagerness to visit Arlo, drag him back here, and show him his surprise, he nearly decided to forgo his plan of waiting until Christmas Eve.
How was he going to spend the evening with Arlo without letting his secret slip?
* * *
Arlo
Frettingover the Christmas gifts he’d chosen for Toby, Arlo stuffed the last of them into his new giant rucksack. He’d bartered tributes left and right with bridge goers to acquire everything he needed to make the idea work. He couldn’t decide if his plan would make Toby happy or if it would completely flop.
Arlo was a troll after all, and trolls were accustomed to receiving gifts, not giving them. What if he was no good at it? Picking out the perfect gift had turned out to be a lot of pressure. Did Toby feel this way each time he selected a new tribute?
With a sigh, he tied off the bag to hide the surprises inside. Toby would be there any minute, and Arlo didn’t want him to get an early glimpse. He shoved the bag into a corner and covered it with a quilt. It made for a lumpy pile, but hopefully not too noticeable.
From outside, Liosa’s singsong teasing rang over the river rapids.
“Troll, troll,
Living in a hole,
Come out before I steal your soul!”
For all Arlo knew, she could do such a thing. He gave the quilt-covered present a final pat, then hurried out of his den onto the riverbank.
“Hello, Liosa.” Arlo trundled to the river’s edge. “Passing through?”
