Page 31 of Quiver

“Harder than you have?”

“Yes,” she said with a hint of pleading in her voice, and Fletcher must’ve heard it, because she gathered up the reins a little tighter.

“Showing up here when I asked you not to isn’t a great start.”

“I’ll go,” she said quickly. “I’ll come back at nine.”

She shook her head. “Go string the bow and grab a few arrows. I want you to nock each one with your eyes closed, raise the bow and draw, totally controlled without releasing while I put Gabrielle away and feed the rest of the herd.”

“And get us coffee?”

This time Fletcher’s smile lingered a second longer. “No, we both need clear heads and steady hands, because if you manage to keep your form the entire time I’m gone, when I come back, we’ll loose some arrows.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and perhaps something more. “Thank you.”

Chapter Seven

“Nice,” Fletcher admitted as Kylie’s arrow struck the target in the second ring from the center.

“Nice?” Kylie yelped, rubbing the skin on the inside of her elbow where the string had snapped her again. “I keep hitting my arm.”

“Yes, but you’re also hitting the target.”

“That isn’t a great trade-off.”

Fletcher glanced at the angry red welt forming above the guard protecting Kylie’s forearm and fought to keep her voice curt. “Learn from your mistakes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fletcher sighed. “When something hurts, most people stop doing it. You, however, have never been able to take your hand off the stove.”

Kylie rolled her eyes. “I’m hitting the target.”

“And if you’re willing to keep ripping yourself open to achieve your goal, so be it.” She had no intention of exploring the idea any deeper, for both of their sanities. They’d been shooting for two days. It was up to Kylie to set her own boundaries around how much she was willing to endure.

“Can I hit the target without the pain?”

“I do.”

Kylie arched an eyebrow as if she weren’t thinking purely of archery anymore either.

“Lift your elbow a couple degrees. You can even angle the bow so the ends point slightly to the side instead of straight up and down, as long as you have a clear line of sight down the arrow.”

Kylie made the adjustment and nocked another arrow without so much as glancing down, and this time she let it fly without the scrape of tender skin. The arrow flew true, striking slightly outside the yellow center.

“Again,” Fletcher commanded.

Kylie obliged, landing in the general vicinity of the first shot.

“Faster.”

She repeated the movement quickly, and the third arrow landed only slightly farther out.

Fletcher turned to find a bright smile splitting her face and scrunching up her cheeks in ways the more practiced expressions never did. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” She laughed. “I hit every single one and barely grazed my arm. That’s freaking brilliant.”

“You shouldn’t be grazing your arm at all, but the shot positioning was solid for a beginner … holding still … on the ground. Learn to accept a compliment without pushing for more.”