might’ve smiled. She
got the next arrow lined up.
“Elbow high.”
She adjusted.
“Better. Aim a touch lower than—”
She let the second one go, missing the tree only by a foot this time, and just at
the height she’d intended. “So close. Next!” She made a flapping puppet of her hand
and Rob fed it.
“Aim for that biggest knot,” he said.
Eager, she did everything a bit quicker, but the shot veered way to the left.
“You’re not breathing,” Rob said, passing her the next arrow.
This time she slowed herself down, letting the string go just after a deep, calm exhalation.
The shot found the tree with the world’s most satisfying noise.
“Yes!” A foot too high and to the right, but no matter. “I hit it!”
The dog made a weird, reedy noise, tail wagging.
“Could be a fluke,” Rob teased, and passed her another.
He let her shoot and shoot and shoot, and of the twenty or so arrows she let fly,
eight found the tree, and one even struck the knot—a bull’s-eye in Merry’s opinion,
though she suspected it had been as much luck as skill.
When she turned expectantly for another, Rob flipped the empty quiver upside-down.
“Fresh out. Excellent start, though.”
“Eight of them hit the tree. I counted.”
He smiled. “Can’t say I did as much when I first picked it up again.”
She got the glove off and Rob helped again with the arm guard thing. Merry watched
his face as he fiddled with the straps, thinking he was the rarest kind of handsome,
the sort of male beauty that could too easily be overlooked, hiding behind his beard
and untamed hair. But when he smiled, there was no mistaking it. Like the way shadows
fled behind the trees and buildings when the sun burst through the clouds.
Merry bet his clouds were thicker than most, but decided then that she’d make him
smile as much as possible before she left this place.
She rolled her shoulders as they tromped toward the tree to collect the arrows. “That
was fun,” she said. “And it actually took my mind off my pounding headache. Thanks.”
“No worries. I’d hate to think of you leaving my neighborhood with ‘getting a concussion’
as your only noteworthy activity.”
“Are you the tourism board around here? Can I buy a postcard from your gift shop?”
“Christ, I hope not. You’ve met me. I’m not exactly the poster boy for hospitality.”
She laughed. “Maybe not. But you have a certain authenticity about you.”
Rob headed after the arrows that had missed their target. Once they were all collected
and counted, he said, “After that performance, I think you’ve earned yourself a coffee.”
“Coffee?”
“If you think your head can handle it.”
She goggled at him. “You’ve got
coffee?”
“I do. It’s not exactly fresh, but it’s real. I usually treat myself to a cup after
I’ve bagged a deer or finished one of the year’s big chores. But I think your tree-hunting
success could count.”
“I won’t say no to coffee.” They began the hike back up the hill. “I nearly bought
a little travel press, but it wound up being one of the things I decided I’d better
live without, to save weight. But tea isn’t nearly as motivating when it comes to
bribing yourself out of a sleeping bag on a cold morning.”
He smiled at that, gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of them.
She watched his body, so at ease in this place, as assured and at home as those eyes
were edgy. That now familiar curiosity settled warm and low in her belly, darkening
her admiration.
There’s a lovable person hiding somewhere inside you, Rob Rush
.
And I’m going to make his acquaintance if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter Five
When they reached the yard, Rob stowed the archery equipment in his shed. He shooed
the dog back outside, but before he could padlock the big double doors together, Merry
asked, “What else is in there?”
He gestured for her to enter. It was the size of
got the next arrow lined up.
“Elbow high.”
She adjusted.
“Better. Aim a touch lower than—”
She let the second one go, missing the tree only by a foot this time, and just at
the height she’d intended. “So close. Next!” She made a flapping puppet of her hand
and Rob fed it.
“Aim for that biggest knot,” he said.
Eager, she did everything a bit quicker, but the shot veered way to the left.
“You’re not breathing,” Rob said, passing her the next arrow.
This time she slowed herself down, letting the string go just after a deep, calm exhalation.
The shot found the tree with the world’s most satisfying noise.
“Yes!” A foot too high and to the right, but no matter. “I hit it!”
The dog made a weird, reedy noise, tail wagging.
“Could be a fluke,” Rob teased, and passed her another.
He let her shoot and shoot and shoot, and of the twenty or so arrows she let fly,
eight found the tree, and one even struck the knot—a bull’s-eye in Merry’s opinion,
though she suspected it had been as much luck as skill.
When she turned expectantly for another, Rob flipped the empty quiver upside-down.
“Fresh out. Excellent start, though.”
“Eight of them hit the tree. I counted.”
He smiled. “Can’t say I did as much when I first picked it up again.”
She got the glove off and Rob helped again with the arm guard thing. Merry watched
his face as he fiddled with the straps, thinking he was the rarest kind of handsome,
the sort of male beauty that could too easily be overlooked, hiding behind his beard
and untamed hair. But when he smiled, there was no mistaking it. Like the way shadows
fled behind the trees and buildings when the sun burst through the clouds.
Merry bet his clouds were thicker than most, but decided then that she’d make him
smile as much as possible before she left this place.
She rolled her shoulders as they tromped toward the tree to collect the arrows. “That
was fun,” she said. “And it actually took my mind off my pounding headache. Thanks.”
“No worries. I’d hate to think of you leaving my neighborhood with ‘getting a concussion’
as your only noteworthy activity.”
“Are you the tourism board around here? Can I buy a postcard from your gift shop?”
“Christ, I hope not. You’ve met me. I’m not exactly the poster boy for hospitality.”
She laughed. “Maybe not. But you have a certain authenticity about you.”
Rob headed after the arrows that had missed their target. Once they were all collected
and counted, he said, “After that performance, I think you’ve earned yourself a coffee.”
“Coffee?”
“If you think your head can handle it.”
She goggled at him. “You’ve got
coffee?”
“I do. It’s not exactly fresh, but it’s real. I usually treat myself to a cup after
I’ve bagged a deer or finished one of the year’s big chores. But I think your tree-hunting
success could count.”
“I won’t say no to coffee.” They began the hike back up the hill. “I nearly bought
a little travel press, but it wound up being one of the things I decided I’d better
live without, to save weight. But tea isn’t nearly as motivating when it comes to
bribing yourself out of a sleeping bag on a cold morning.”
He smiled at that, gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of them.
She watched his body, so at ease in this place, as assured and at home as those eyes
were edgy. That now familiar curiosity settled warm and low in her belly, darkening
her admiration.
There’s a lovable person hiding somewhere inside you, Rob Rush
.
And I’m going to make his acquaintance if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter Five
When they reached the yard, Rob stowed the archery equipment in his shed. He shooed
the dog back outside, but before he could padlock the big double doors together, Merry
asked, “What else is in there?”
He gestured for her to enter. It was the size of
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