Well Met(21)

I turned to Stacey, betrayed.

“I know, I know.” She shook her head in sympathy. “It’s a disappointment, right? But this is a family show.”

I grumbled under my breath, turning back to watch as Mitch landed on his feet and spun, throwing a punch that Simon easily blocked. But Mitch used the twist of his body to conceal the action of pulling a dagger from his boot. I heard myself cry out a warning before realizing I’d made a sound. Mitch backhanded Simon, who went to his knees, and the fight ended with Mitch holding his dagger to Simon’s throat. The two men froze in that tableau for a few beats as we all erupted in applause: the other fighters, the girls in the grass, all of us.

“Huzzah!” My hands stung from clapping, but the guys deserved it. That had been an incredible show.

They broke the pose, and Mitch extended a hand to help Simon up. They were both sweating, chests heaving from exertion, and they turned to acknowledge our applause with grins and waves. Mitch noticed Stacey and me sitting on the hill and pointed his massive sword at us in acknowledgment. He leaned over to Simon, saying something, pointing in our direction, and when Simon looked at me the force of his smile hit me in the chest. I smiled back at him in a Pavlovian response. But his grin faltered, as though he didn’t know what to do with mine. He made a gesture that seemed to start as a wave, but at the last second he changed his mind, pushing his hair off his forehead instead.

“So what did you think?” Stacey nudged my shoulder as we walked back into the high school auditorium. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah.” The fights had been incredible to watch, and cheering them on with the girls had made me feel like I was a part of something. But I glanced back over my shoulder at the field, watching Simon talk to a couple of the others. The knowledge that he didn’t want to share his joy with me rankled. What was I going to have to do to prove I was worthy of that smile?

More importantly, why did it bother me so much?





Five




The next weekend’s rehearsal took place at the actual Faire site. Only two more weeks until we were up and running. And while that was exciting, this new meeting location threw off my routine. After all these weeks, I could practically drive to the high school on Saturday mornings with my eyes closed. Now my Jeep and I had to shift gears, and while Caitlin read to me off some emailed directions (apparently the place didn’t show up on GPS), we ended up in a field-turned-parking-lot at the edge of a forest.

“The hell?” I got out of the car and squinted toward the trees. “We’re going in there?” This was exactly how stupid white girls died in horror movies.

“Come onnnn.” Caitlin hadn’t watched the same horror movies as me, and she tugged on my arm and led me toward a path snaking into the trees. I sighed and followed her. What the hell. By now April was mostly mobile. She’d be able to take care of herself if I was hacked to pieces by a serial killer in a hockey mask out here.

The wide, well-trod path opened up almost right away into a clearing, with multiple smaller paths forking out in all directions. A few stages were constructed within sight of the clearing, and other wooden structures dotted the distance. It was like a whole civilization hidden inside the outer ring of trees.

Caitlin, with the confidence of an excited kid, led me down a path on the right winding through full green trees that acted as a filter for the early-morning sunlight. When I glanced back over my shoulder the parking lot wasn’t visible at all. It was a little unsettling, but as I turned back to the path, the sun and the trees had a calming effect. I already liked it here.

The rest of our people were gathered in a clearing with a sign nailed to a tree: CHAUCER STAGE. There was no stage. There was half a platform and a stack of planks ready to be made into the rest. Chris sat on the edge of the finished half of the stage, holding up a pearl-encrusted bodice and talking to one of the other adult volunteers.

Costume. Right. I stuck my sunglasses on top of my head and fished in my backpack while I walked toward her. I’d brought my boots today for final approval. If Chris okayed them now, I wouldn’t have to talk to Simon unless it was absolutely necessary. Everyone would win.

Chris looked them over. “No zippers or modern ornamentation. Looks good to me.” She handed them back to me. “I didn’t see you at the bookstore this week.”

“I know.” I smiled; it was nice to be missed. “April’s down to physical therapy every other week now.”

“That’s great news! So she’s getting better?”

“Much.” My smile widened. “Thanks for asking.”

“Of course! Tell her I’m thinking of her.” Chris placed a hand on my shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. I was dismissed, but not rudely.

My smile remained in place as the rest of the cast gathered around the half-finished stage for our morning briefing. I liked these people; I liked this town. Why didn’t April? I could see her valuing privacy, but no one was trying to meddle. So far, everyone I’d met in Willow Creek was nice.

Then I spotted Simon. Okay, almost everyone. I looked him over and frowned. It wasn’t like him to be at the back of the crowd like this, but there he was, leaning against a tree, fiddling with something in his hands. Sunlight flashed off silver, and I squinted when I realized he was holding a flask, turning it over and over, tossing it lightly from one palm to the other.