Page 30 of Robin and Marian
Pulling out his cell phone, he used it to light the tangled path of weeds below their feet. At least it was good for something in this dead spot. It illuminated the decayed planks of wood on the stairs—some of the boards were missing. “Marian?” He turned to her, seeing she’d taken off her mask so that he could see the smooth outline of her cheek against the light of the moon. He managed to find his voice. “Wait down here.”
He plunged on ahead. The creak on the step behind him made him realize that she wasn’t listening to him. “Okay, stay close then,” he said. It had always been a childhood dream to climb this thing, but now that he was older and had lost his immortality complex, it didn’t seem as cool. The lower end was about four stories off the ground—the fall would be deadly.
When they reached the top, he saw the boards of the ski jump spread out in front of him, stretching high into the air like a rollercoaster. Now that they were far from the bonfires on the ground, the stars glittered brighter. It was the perfect lookout.
“Midge?” he called. “You up here?” The breeze whistled through the warped sides as he listened for the answer. If Robin had been up there by himself, that would be one thing, but Marian made him a nervous wreck. “I don’t know if I should’ve brought you up.”
“I’m no damsel in distress.”
She didn’t understand. He didn’t care what happened to him—he cared more about losing her. “Even if that means that you’re up here alone with me?” he teased. If anything, that would get her down.
Her lips curved up on the sides. “Oh, I can leave.”
Wait? What was he doing? This was what he wanted. “No, no, no,” he found himself saying. The stars were bright, the view was gorgeous—she was more so—and they were alone.Maybe.He looked behind him. “Midge, if you’re up here, I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”
Nothing. “He’s not up here,” Marian said, smiling.
He laughed. “Good, I didn’t have a hundred.”
She hid her face from him, but he knew she was laughing when he saw her shoulders jerk. Nothing was better than getting her to smile.
Below them, the people from the town were like miniatures. They added straw to the pile on the wagon so that they would be included in the luck for when the wheels burned their way down the mountain. He had really missed this place. He remembered chasing after the wheel as a child and then when he was older, stuffing the wheels with pitch and straw and guiding it down the hill. Eventually, they’d grown tired of burning their hands and arms, so that only four years ago, he’d invented the launching pad to streamline the process. He’d carried the wheel to the pad, holding one end of the axletree while Alan had clung on to the other.
The music below him took him back, and if he let himself get lost in it, he’d go back even further into the past, maybe to a time when cloaked figures had protected the forest. She would behisMaid Marian, and he’d be her Robin Hood.
Of course, that would make him the hero, and he didn’t feel like that right now, not with the doubt cast on his character. He’d rubbed elbows with thieves and murderers and all sorts of rabble in prison, and he’d barely walked away from that. Marian didn’t know who he was. At all. How did he convince her that he could still be trusted, even if he couldn’t tell her everything?
“Close your eyes,” he said.
Would she trust him even to do that? After studying him with her big eyes, she obliged him and squeezed them shut, taking a deep breath. He didn’t touch her, only watched her as the soft breeze lifted her hair instead. The music from below was muffled through the distance. He let her take this in too, before he took her ring from his pocket and slipped it onto her left ring finger.
She opened her eyes to see what he’d put on her. Her look softened on him. “I’m glad you’re not a thief.”
“I wish things were different,” he said. How would the years have gone if they were? Would they have had children by now? Dark-haired daughters with her smile and his eyes?
Sighing, she pressed her chin into her palm. “If only none of this had happened. What if we could go back four years ago to when we were happy?”
“How about we just start over?” he asked.
She peered down at her ring. “I don’t know.”
This was killing him. He wanted to reach out and brush her hair from her face, touch her, confide in her. Was there a way for her to trust him without betraying his sister’s confidence? He had to be patient. “Give me a chance to prove myself to you.”
The activity grew louder below them. The fire wheel was going to be launched and the torches were lit, illuminating the scene in glorious splendor. Robin hadn’t spotted Guy yet, but he was sure he was amongst the flurry. Scarlett shouted up to them from the orange mesh fencing. “Marian? Robin? Are you up there?”
“Yes!” Marian shouted back.
“Alan says Midge is by the lighting station.”
Of course he was. They watched Scarlett go back to the hay wagon. Alan was there with the wooden wheel. She pulled out hay from the wagon. The loose straw streamed from her hands as he gathered the bulk of it from her, their hands touching. Her husband paused then, taking the time to brush her cheek with his free hand, drinking her in with his poetic gaze. Perhaps not all was lost between Alan and his sister. And it was why Robin couldn’t tell Marian anything.
Alan pointed to the hay wagon and Scarlett nodded and returned to it. It would be a safer place to stand than where the fire wheels went careening down the hills. Scarlett waited there while her husband brought the wheel to the launching spot. Turning, she shouted and waved up at Marian to join her.
Marian pulled away from the railing. “Robin?” She hesitated. He waited for her to say what she wanted to say. “I want to trust you, but I don’t know how.” She tugged off her ring and gave it back to him. “I’m sorry.”
His forehead wrinkled. His ridiculous gesture had turned on him. “It’s not mine.”
She kissed his cheek then, a little closer to his mouth than maybe she’d intended. She smelled of lilacs. If he turned an inch, he’d have her in his arms, but he knew this was goodbye. “Keep it to remember me.” And she escaped down the stairs. He watched her go, feeling the loss as her dark hair disappeared from his view. Of everything he’d given up, this hurt the most.
