Page 75 of Robin and Marian
“Robin! Come see what I found!” Midge dashed up the steps, shouting. He held a chirping frog.
“Nice!” Robin said. “Bring it over here and we’ll fry it.”
His uncle ran away with his new friend.
Besides Tuck, everyone had deserted Guy’s estate to join in the fun. Little John had asked Alan to play a reunion concert with his band from high school for the opening ceremonies, and Alan was having the time of his life. He’d raided the local music store and rented out everything they needed. Scarlett set up an RV on the other side of Marian’s storage container for their little family. And as Alan looked at his wife, he had a glow in his eyes that hadn’t been there for a while.
Maybe Robin could keep his promise to Midge yet.
Scarlett wrestled a jug from their camping supplies. “Are you off to practice?” she asked her husband.
“Yes.” With great daring, he stepped closer to kiss her forehead. “Where are you headed?”
“I thought I’d go to the lagoon near the creek. We need water.” She smiled at him. The impromptu camping trip was perfect for them. Without their usual distractions and separate rooms to retreat to for naps, they were forced more into each other’s company. “I’ll just boil it,” Scarlett said. “I’m making some stew.”
“Don’t eat it without me,” Alan said. “I’ll be back soon.” He passed Robin’s hammock on his way out of their campground, his guitar strapped over his shoulder as he took off into the shadows.
Robin had gotten the raw end of the deal with a leftover hammock he’d inherited from one of their neighbors—it was better than sleeping outside one of the food booths if the sheriff took exception to him being there, but so far Little John had kept a respectful distance from Robin when the law was around.
Midge ran back up the steps to peer around Robin at the cooking burgers. “They’re putting up the Maypole tomorrow morning to start out the big party!” he reported. Richard had had it delivered to them that afternoon while he was still out of town. The festival had been set up in a central location at the meadow. The booths and tents were in place. Everything was ready to go and the anticipation running through the camp was contagious.
Little John had more than enough employees working now. They hauled in merchandise that they’d sold in the years past—arts and crafts, the ingredients for homemade root beer. To the side of the meadow, an area was marked off for their tournament games. The stage was already up on the other end of the encampment. Alan’s band practiced there, and their drums echoed through the trees. It was just like the first time he’d played at the Mayfair. The excitement of the present blended with the memories of the past, almost like the time Robin had spent away from this all had never happened.
“Are you going to be at the opening ceremony tomorrow, Robin?” Midge asked.
The door from Marian’s little setup creaked open as she came outside in a shaft of light and poked Robin in the back. “He will if he wants to dance with me.”
“Then I guess I am,” Robin said, and laughed when his uncle made a face. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”
She came behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder. He rested his ear against her hair. He was entranced by this woman. The friendship they’d formed as children had matured into something more as they’d both become what they were always meant to be. It went beyond kisses, though he loved that too. The music from the band drifted through the trees and he felt the sudden urge to enjoy it with her. “Dance with me now?” he asked.
That cleared out Midge more than anything could. He scrambled down the steps and took off after Scarlett, who had gone to the lagoon. His flashlight wove from side to side before it disappeared into the thick of trees. Now that they were alone with the crickets and chirping frogs, Robin turned and studied the freckles of Marian’s face. Her eyes were bright as she watched him in return. “I missed out on so much,” he breathed, “so much living. I wish we hadn’t lost those past four years.” Seeing his sadness mirrored in her face too, he struggled to find something more cheerful. “Not to say that the entertainment in prison wasn’t stellar.”
“Oh, yes.” She quickly picked up the thread of the conversation. “Didn’t someone put on a play? I’d love to hear your lines.” Now that was painful. Before he could make up something stupid, Marian sniffed. “Are you cooking something?”
He was burning it!Robin whipped back to the grill and pushed open the lid. Flames erupted from it. He groaned, fanning down the roaring fire. Black smoke clouded the air in front of him and Marian closed the door to her tiny home so it wouldn’t get in. As soon as he contained the fire, their hamburgers were black. He chuckled. “There goes living out our lives in Sherwood as outlaws. We’ll have to think of something else.”
She was game to play along. “What were you thinking?”
He hadn’t thought too much of his future since he’d never imagined he’d have one. Now it felt different. Of course, the things that came most naturally to him, like business and salesmanship, were denied him. Even so, he kept the conversation light. “I think we’d make some excellent cat burglars. We got in some good practice last night. We just have to practice hiding better at home—you could put me in the closet or under the table or in the trunk.”
“Where willIhide?”
“Oh, you can come with me. I don’t mind squeezing you in.” To show he meant it, he pulled her closer.
She giggled in response. “I’m fine with that, just as long as you don’t go looking for danger.”
Behind them in the forest they heard a crash—then a scream. It was Scarlett! Robin would recognize her voice anywhere. Without thinking, he lunged from the porch and charged through the forest. As the darkness of the trees enveloped him further from the campsite, he realized he should’ve brought a flashlight. His eyes weren’t readjusting fast enough. “Scarlett!” he shouted. “Scarlett!”
He stopped to listen for an answering call and got none. Marian ran into him when she caught up, and grasped his shoulders. They both listened closely and then they heard Midge shouting. “That way,” Marian said. She stumbled over the fallen branches. Robin dodged around her when he saw Midge. The young boy was helping Scarlett from the creek. The lantern that she’d brought spilt light over them and he saw that her arm was bleeding profusely. The sleeve on her shoulder was shredded. Next to her, a newly-fallen tree lay splintered across the rocky shore. Its leaves dragged into the rushing water. The jug Scarlett had been holding was crushed under it.
He ran to her. “What happened?”
“The tree fell. I was just filling the jug, talking to Midge. He was catching frogs and I got up to chase after him. He was too close to the side and that’s when I heard it crashing behind me.” Her voice grew more hysterical as she looked over at the fallen tree. “The branches cut into my arm and threw me into the water!”
If she hadn’t gone after their uncle, she’d have been dead. Marian tended to Scarlett’s bleeding while Robin went to the tree, his suspicions taking over when he saw the break at the base of the trunk. It was too clean, too deliberate. This wasn’t an accident. Further inspection brought him a discarded work glove… as if the owner had beat a hasty retreat.
It was time to seriously question these accidents. This tree, the fire, even the bridge that had collapsed?—had that maypole trick really been a setup for Robin? Marian had walked into it, but as Robin thought about it, Scarlett could just as easily have been the target. After all, Guy had made a big deal about the bells in front ofallof them, and Robin knew exactly why Guy would do it—Scarlett was the other runner-up for Richard’s company. If she was out of the way, Guy would have no competition.
