Page 33 of The Archer and his Rosebud

Nolan’s face scrunches. “You don’t know how to ride a bike?”

I situate Clem in her stroller, tilting her seat so she can look around. “I was starting to learn when I was about Eli’s age, but remember my brother Devin? He broke his arm running into a tree on his tricycle, and that was the last time I sat on my bike.” The memory pops up from nowhere: pink flower stickers, a basket, streamers on the handles. “It was a really cool bike, too.”

“I bet you could ride one if you tried now.”

“You think? Maybe I should buy a bicycle and learn again. Then I could get Clem one of those bike seats for the back and we could ride all over the place. We’d be pretty cool, huh? Clem in a baby helmet.”

“Maybe.” Nolan chuckles, jumping to his feet. “Dad’s bike is here. You can try riding it.”

“That’s okay, I’m—”

“I’ll get it. I’ll be right back.” He disappears around Archer’s car before I can stop him.

Glancing down the road, I spot Eli just as he tips over and throws his legs down, catching himself from falling. Archer’s muffled words of encouragement meet my ears. He’s such a good dad. Such a good man.

“Willa! Heyyyy, look at me!” I lift my head, waving at Eli who leaves Archer in the dust as he pedals my way.

“You’re doing so gr—”

A piercing cry steals my words and Eli’s bike wobbles, then crashes as behind Archer’s Expedition Nolan shouts, “Dad!”

Oh no.Fear chokes me. “Nolan?”

“Dadddyyyy!”

Leaving Clem safely buckled in her stroller, I run for Nolan, his screams drawing the gaze of other campers. Archer shouts for his son, but I don’t wait for him, my heart pounding in my chest. The flat soles of my canvas slip-ons offer no traction on the gravel, causing me to stumble around the vehicle where I find Nolan sprawled on the ground, two bikes tangled together and pinning him down.

“Oh, sweetie.” I circle the mess and drop to my knees by his torso, scanning for a way to help him. If I try to move the bikes, are any of his appendages tangled in them? First things first, my shaking hands cup his face in order to calm him. His screaming never stops. “Nolan, your dad’s coming. Hang on, we’ll get these bikes off of you.”

“Daddy! Dad!” Nolan shouts louder, his face painted with terror, his eyes wide and staring beyond me. I search the mess of gangly boy limbs and bicycles for an injury worthy of such a reaction. Then I spot the blood sliding down his forearm.

Realizing his damaged arm is stuck through the frame and unreachable, I work on reaching the terrified boy. “Hey, Nol? Can you look at me? Look at me, bud,” I coax. My fingers tighten on his face, forcing his head away from his injury. “It’s only a small cut. You’re going to be fine.”

“Blood.” He murmurs, his blue eyes unblinking. “Blood. Blood. Blood.” His legs kick beneath the metal, and he whimpers, his breaths coming faster.

“Nolan, look at my face. Breathe with me, sweetheart. Does anything else hurt? Is it just your hand. Do you—”

“Nol! Willa!” The crunch of Archer’s steps strengthen. “Eli, stay here with Clem, buddy. Watch her.”

“—hurt anywhere else? Your back? Your head?”

Archer curses, and my focus leaves Nolan for one minute to see Archer standing by his car, his body rigid for the ticking seconds while he soaks in the scene.

“Daddy. There’s blood.” Nolan’s face crumbles between my hands. “There’s blood.”

“Dammit.” Archer leaps into action, disentangling the bikes and Nolan’s legs.

I keep hold of Nolan’s face, urging him to breathe, to stay calm, as his watery gaze cranes left, never straying from the blood trickling down his arm. His head shakes. “The blood, the blood.”

Something in his voice has me wiping at the crimson liquid, then cuffing his small arm above his elbow to prevent it from spreading further down his arm. “I’ve got it. Your dad’s getting you out, Nol.” My other hand strokes his damp cheek.

Shoving away the smaller bike, Archer says my name, his voice thick. Meeting his eyes, red-rimmed and brimming with emotion, I read his silent cue to remove my hand from Nolan’s arm. I do so, and he lifts the bike off his son like it’s nothing, setting it aside before snatching a whimpering Nolan into his arms.

“You’re fine, bud. You’re okay. Let me see.” Archer pulls back, going for Nolan’s arm.

“Noooo! Get it off. Get the blood off.” His hysteria escalates.

Archer clutches him to his chest. “You’re safe, Nolan. I’m here, and you’re safe.” He presses his lips to Nolan’s temple.

---