"Ouch! A rusty horseshoe! Of all the damn things!"
The irony that the very item that was supposed to bring good luck, would now be sending her to the local Doc-in-the-Box for a tetanus shot, was not lost on her. One of the nails had wedged itself deep into the instep, and she winced, reprimanding herself about being old enough to be a grandma and running around barefoot on a beach in her capris.
"Only a fool gets distracted by daydreaming of days long gone. Or was that, nights. It could have been a jelly fish." She grinned wryly as she climbed the wooden stairs, limping back to where she parked her bike above the beach. Her fingertips slipped through the thick strawberry and cream shoulder length mane.
Emma O'Conner, had said goodbye to many things, in this very spot, that fated summer. Her love of horses and the love of her life.
About that time, the island carpenter whom she suspected was the local lothario, rounded the turn and nearly hit her, coming to a stop a dozen yards ahead of her and looking like he had seen a ghost. She tossed the horse shoe in his general direction, missing as she let out a sting of epitaphs that would surely make the church choir giggle, as he backed up beside her.
His soulful brown eyes reflected the depths of his uncomfortableness, like a motorist who was pulled over on the bad side of town. "Eve Emma, step on some glass?"
He tried not to notice the shapely calf, and focus upon her right foot, and the blood tinted white sandal.
"Horseshoe," she uttered flatly. Lifting her chin, her cool blue eyes raked his weathered, yet still boyish, face pleased to see the gray at his temples.
"You know, we got us one of them Opti-moligists from the mainland," he teased. "Might want to pay him a visit soon, if your going to be beach combing."
