Page 51 of Robin and Marian
Robin was surprised at the boy’s desperate plea. “Midge. You know I’d help you out whether you won or not, whatever it is. Just name it.”
It was as if he’d poured warm fudge over a snowman as he watched the frigidity melt from the boy’s tiny frame. Midge smiled. “Really?”
“Yeah, of course.” Robin hoped he wasn’t making a mistake, but how bad could this favor actually be? Before he could ask, Midge fairly danced back to the shooting line in his happy excitement. He easily won his next round against Guy with a streak of tens. Guy’s eyes widened in astonishment as the town went crazy with excitement.
Tuck took over the mic to run commentary on the game. “It’s David against Goliath, friends… only this time Goliath is only four feet tall! He’s gonna wipe the floor with David!”
Robin’s nerves were getting the best of him, and he laced his fingers behind his head, almost too scared to watch as Midge won his second round against Guy. Just one more. But no way could the kid keep up this streak. Guy knew Midge’s habits as well as anyone did. Marian leaned against Robin, her arms crossed as she watched closely.
Guy went first and shot a nine, barely outside the gold center, then he got an eight, followed by a four. If Midge missed the target once, he was out. The kid lined up his first shot and did his usual bull’s eye. Then he slid in his second arrow and let the string go. He got an eight. The crowd screamed. Midge had never gotten anything but a ten or a zero thus far. He looked up at Robin and grinned in toothy triumph.
Robin tried to drag his jaw off the ground enough to get off a salute to the little soldier, who turned back to the target and lifted his bow. It was anyone’s game. Marian brought her hands next to her mouth to hold back a scream as Midge lined up his arrow and hit his first four.
Midge had won with a four!
The crowd went ballistic. The shock ran through Robin as he realized what that meant. Little John, Scarlett, Alan, Marian—all of them rushed the field with Robin and hauled Midge to their shoulders as the kid pumped his fist into the air. Guy kept his frozen smile for the cameras. Robin knew the feeling and still felt no sympathy. He’d be clenching his jaw for months after this.
“Robin! Robin!” Midge called him over.
With a touch of trepidation, Robin came over to discover what favor he’d ask. He took Marian’s hand and pulled her over with him. She was in this too. The boy wrapped one hand into her hair and the other around his neck and bent over them to whisper, “I want you to make Scarlett happy. She cries too much. It’s because she fights with Alan. Stop them from fighting.”
That was it? Marian made sympathetic noises as he studied Scarlett’s happy face and then Alan’s torn expression—it was like his brother-in-law couldn’t decide if he should celebrate with the man who’d ruined him or not. Helping Alan would be difficult, but what had been the point of giving himself up four years ago if it hadn’t been to make his sister happy? Robin had to find a way to bury the hatchet with Alan. He’d try to save their marriage, too.
Robin nodded at Midge. “We’ve got a deal.”
Midge hopped away from Robin and ran to his father and whispered into his ear next. Richard nodded solemnly and took a microphone. “Midge would like to donate his winnings to his nephew, Robin’s charity of choice!”
Everyone knew what that was; Little John would be getting a small fortune. Hurrying over to Richard, Robin picked up the microphone. “Thank you, Midge! The town is very grateful to you!” Another cheer erupted. Nottingham was going to have this kid sculpted into a statue in the town square if things went well. “The money is going towards John’s brainchild—Nottingham’s Mayfair.” Little John looked overwhelmed by the gesture, especially coming from someone who, until recently, he’d despised. “You’ve got the location, the permit, the money—what do you say, John?”
Robin knew he’d take it for the sake of the others who were hurting in this town. “It’s more than enough,” Little John said, his voice cracking.
It was—with plenty left over. Robin licked his lips, realizing the extent of how much this money could help Nottingham. “Well, then we might have to reopen the sawmill while we’re at it.”
There was another gasp. He saw the sheriff’s head lift from the back and Robin realized that it sounded like he was going into business with Little John. “I mean, you, Little John. I won’t have anything to do with it. It’s all up to you. Isn’t that right, sheriff?”
Feeling himself redden, Robin gave the mic back to Richard before the sheriff could say anything. The reporters rooted out Little John for comment, and Robin listened to him accept with a shocked voice.
Richard wasn’t done. “More jobs for Nottingham! Congratulations on the sawmill.” Holding the mic in a shaky grip, he turned a teary-eyed gaze on Robin. “I love this idea for a Mayfair.” Asking Little John to join him at the front of the makeshift stage, he clapped him on the shoulder. “You were going to hold it this weekend, weren’t you? I saw the flyers.”
“Yes.” Little John still looked like he was in a daze. “But that’s in three days.”
“Let’s do it! You already have the booths and the merchants lined up. I’d planned the maypole dance for Friday. We’ll hold it in Sherwood Forest as your opening ceremonies instead. I’d like nothing more than to share my retirement party with the town. I’d planned the lake parade for Saturday evening. Of course, that’s on Guy’s property, so he’d have to agree to join it with your festival.”
“What do you say, Guy?” Robin called out. He knew full well his cousin couldn’t refuse, not when he wanted to inherit their grandfather’s company so bad.He wouldn’t get it.
The press turned, along with Richard. All the town waited for his response. “Yes,” Guy growled out.
“Good man! Good man!” Richard said, as if he’d made his children kiss and make up. Far from it. “I’ll announce my successor to my company at the closing ceremonies at the Mayfair. Anyone with a ticket will be the first to hear.”
Guy couldn’t hide his dismay, and Robin rubbed it in with a huge grin his way. Yes, Robin hadn’t been kidding. This was a full-on war, and there was no way he was letting Guy win this time. The fate of others’ lives lay in the balance. Robin and Little John were going to fight for them.
Chapter 14
Marian still felt like she was on a high. The sawmill was officially opening. Little John had set about employing most of the town, though most of them would be working on the Mayfair first. Everyone was still celebrating outside with the bands playing out on the lawn. She’d run inside the estate to get a jacket. Maybe even her notebook.
There wasn’t a lot of time to get ready for the Mayfair, but she was excited to start writing about it. She wanted to do everything she could to make it a success. Nottingham needed her. She wasn’t sure how much theNew England Chroniclewould let her post since Guy owned most of the stock, but surely if she disguised it as part of Richard’s retirement party then the paper wouldn’t ask him until it was too late.
As if thinking of Guy made him magically materialize, she heard a creak on the stairs behind her and swung around to see him, his European shoes pressing against the red rug that ran the length of the polished wooden stairs. Surely he hadn’t followed her? He’d put on a gray jacket over his cream-colored tunic that he’d tucked into black trousers, which meant he’d already been in the house at least once after the competition.
