Page 111 of Give Me a Shot

Her gaze drifted up the row, but she snapped it back. The smithy was that way, and she couldn’t risk seeing Mo. In spite of the promise she’d made to Alice and Steph; in spite of repeating that promise to Steph three days ago during their tearful goodbye at the airport, she still wasn’t ready. But the proximity of thesmithy and the archery stand might force her to cross paths with him at any moment. The town crier walked past, making Jess’s head throb with his clanging bell and announcements about the events of the day. Jess winced.

My senses are overloaded; I can’t imagine what it’s like for Mo.

—

Twenty minutes later, after helping a little girl earn her Wee Archers Guild certificate, Jess was putting the child-sized bow and arrows back in their places, smiling to herself. A man’s voice called out to her.

“My fair Lady Archer! By Odin, it maketh me joyous to see thee merry!”

Confused, Jess turned toward the voice as Theo joined her at the stand. His friendly grin was a mile wide, a contrast to his dark, long-sleeved tunic belted under a deep gray cloak with a mottled silver fur mantle. The hair on the top of his head had been braided flat against his crown, but the ends were much longer and fuller, resting loose on his shoulders except for a few small sections that had been braided and adorned with detailed silver and black cuffs. Jess forced her eyebrows back down.

“Theo,” she said. “Looks like”—she looked him up and down—“you’re in your element.”

He laughed.

“But how are you not burning up?” she asked. He leaned close to her.

“I’m dying here,” he whispered. “But beauty is pain. And Viking men were serious about their beauty.”

“Oh,” Jess said. “I’m new to this, I didn’t realize that ‘Viking’ garb fit under the Ren Faire umbrella.”

He shrugged.

“Depends on who you ask, I guess. But I’m not going to let any naysayers stop me,” he said, watching the people file by. “I’ve always loved putting on a fun costume and stepping into a different world.”

“Always?” Jess asked. He gave her his broad smile again.

“Oh yeah. Ever since I was a kid. Even dressed up my dog. He was easier to catch than my big sister,” Theo said, winking.

Jess managed a tight laugh, looking away from him so he wouldn’t see the tears blurring her vision. Even though she was taking more and more tiny steps in grieving, she’d been running from thoughts of Cassie that day. Neither of the counselors she’d spoken with had been able to see her before the Faire. In spite of her hesitations about compartmentalizing, Jess was afraid that if she thought about her sister, she would break down. She couldn’t let her emotional state have a detrimental effect on the Faire. She’d just keep her thoughts under control and fall apart in the car or at home each evening. The last thing she’d anticipated was someone she barely knew voicing one of her Cassie memories.

Glancing at the other end of the stand, she was relieved to see a couple watching Ned as he taught a masked noblewoman to shoot. Jess focused on the opportunity to help them so she could put Cassie out of her mind. Theo followed her gaze.

“Oops, sorry,” he said. “I’m keeping you from your duties. Fare thee well.” He bowed his head and stepped out from under the awning, joining the passersby.

Jess took two deep breaths, steadying herself and purposefully blanking her mind. Then she walked to the end of the stall to ask the couple if they’d like to learn how to shoot.

—

A short while later, Keith began pulling a rope across their stand while Brian put away the bows and arrows for guests. The couple Jess was working with caught the message and left. It was time for the team to take their places in the arena for the show. Jess was seriously regretting not wearing some sort of hat. Even if the ones she’d seen online were too fussy-looking for her taste. When she’d arrived, Lana had appeared out of nowhere and shook her head at Jess’s ponytail. She’d hauled her over to a booth called “bawdy braids” and the woman running it had pounced on Jess’s head. In the end, Jess admitted that the result, with intertwined braids on her crown and the rest of her hair down, was pretty andwould keep her hair out of her face when it was time to shoot. Keith approached her, tucking in his green arrows and pulling up his green-and-brown hood.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Just need my tack,” she said. He nodded as she went to the back of the stand and filled her quiver with her red arrows. The crowd needed to clearly see which archer shot what. Brian was the blue archer, Keith was green, and Jess was red. She tied a long red sash around her waist and grabbed her longbow. She was about to step out of the shadows when she saw Mo walking past the archery booth. She stepped back to remain hidden. He slowed his pace a little, glancing at the closed booth. He looked back in the direction he was walking, but not before Jess caught a forlorn half-smile bend his lips. Her heart skipped a beat.

Maybe Al and Steph are right. Maybe he doesn’t hate me.

—

In her hiding place under the wooden stage, Jess listened as Doug, playing the role of the queen’s servant, addressed the crowd in the risers on either side of the arena, revving them up for the competition between Brian and Keith. Ned had told Jess that there had been a bit of behind-the-scenes drama when Doug learned that Wendy was to be the Queen of the Faire, and in Elizabethan tradition, she was not going to have a king. When Ned told her that Doug suggested he play Sir Robert Dudley, Jess had had to give the reason behind her guffaw. She didn’t know if her explanation that Doug had been trying to imply that he was Wendy’s lover had gotten back to her. All that Jess knew was that Doug had not ended up as a noble as he’d seemed to hope. His garb was nice, but his role was little more than the queen’s crier, announcing the events taking place in front of the stage.

Jess let herself smile as he assigned each side an archer to cheer for. She was happy to have a moment in the shade under the stage, a few degrees cooler than in the sunshine. The following night, the Faire would be over, and she could put the madness behind her. If she kept her mind focused on her tasks andcompletely avoided Mo, she’d be fine. Her knees began aching, and she uncrossed her legs, stretching and gingerly repositioning into a kneeling position. It wasn’t pain-free, but it was better.

The show began. As Brian, Good Archer Blue, and Keith, Good Archer Green, took turns firing, the crowd cheered for their respective archers. Off in the distance, one of the Rennies, dressed in garb, examined the targets, pretending he wasn’t sure who had won. Brian and Keith had intentionally shot around the bull’s-eye. But the crowd didn’t know that. Jess picked up her tack and aimed.

“I declare, Archer…” Doug cried out. That was Jess’s cue. She pulled back, released, and watched her arrow land dead center in the left bull’s-eye. A gasp went up from the crowd. Jess emerged.

“My good sir,” she shouted. “Thou hast finished the contest too soon!”

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