Page 89 of Quiver

And just like that, Kylie took control of Fletcher’s class. A few months ago, it would’ve driven her insane to see her step into the role. The audacity would’ve made her vision tinge red, but today she could summon only a healthy dose of amusement as the great movie star strode up and down behind a row of feed barrels tipped over in the dirt and topped with old lesson saddles. She gave pointers on positioning, offered gentle corrections with the kids, and doled out good-natured ribbing to the adults. The entire class responded to her one-on-one the same way audiences of hundreds always had. Even Ava had stepped back instead of hovering. She leaned against the arena wall, watching with a casual set to her shoulders and a serene sort of smile, causing Fletcher to wonder once again what had really transpired between her and Kylie.

“Jenny, if you rotate your bow a little bit, you’ll have a straighter line to draw up to your body,” Kylie offered, then leaned close enough to whisper in the girl’s ear for a second. When she stood back, Jenny’s cheeks had gone bright pink, but as she drew and released again, the arrow stayed true and hit the target dead-on. The girl beamed at Kylie with the kind of starstruck admiration Fletcher had held for her at that age.

“Great job.” Kylie gave her a little wink and strode on down the line, pausing in front of the hay bale to glance up at Fletcher. “Any notes, Madam Director?”

She shook her head.

“None?” Kylie feigned shock.

“You seem to have things under control.” Her voice held only the slightest hint of grudging.

“It’s unlike you not to nitpick something about my performance.”

“Only when you’re shooting. Turns out you’re a better teacher than archer.”

Kylie laughed. “There’s the bank shot. Still, I’m working on taking compliments where I can get them. I suppose there are worse things to be good at than teaching.”

“The teaching will help with the audition, too,” Fletcher offered. “You move and speak like someone who knows what’s what around here. They’ll never suspect you’ve been on a crash course.”

Kylie shrugged, not seeming nearly as pleased with the praise as Fletcher would’ve expected. “Or, if I fail to impress Sophia LeBlanc with my teaching persona, at least I’ll still have some semblance of a plan B.”

Fletcher frowned as some of the tension returned to Kylie’s shoulders.

“You know, the old drama-school teacher fallback option?”

“Yeah,” Fletcher said tightly. “I got it. Better focus on one class at a time.”

“Right.” Kylie rolled her eyes. “Mustn’t turn my back on kids alone with pointy objects.”

She walked on down the line, making sure everyone had taken all their shots before calling for their attention and releasing them to collect their arrows. The movements were right, she had her eye on the details, and everyone seemed happy to follow her lead. Plus, after what they’d witnessed last weekend, no one was eager to blow off safety concerns. Fletcher should’ve been pleased with how they’d all rebounded, herself included, and yet she felt more unsettled than she had in days.

Ever since last Saturday, she’d skipped from one moment to the next without acknowledging much beyond her current set of restrictions. It was as if having to wait for her next doctor’s appointment before making work plans also kept her from having to acknowledge anything else that could affect their larger realities. If she couldn’t say for sure what came next, how could she possibly conceive of weeks, months, or even years down the road? And why would she want to when she and Kylie had found some semblance of peace in the present? The last few days had progressed so naturally, so easy, so free from the fights and questions and fears. She’d allowed herself to settle into each encounter without waiting for some other shoe to kick her in the teeth, and damn it if that hadn’t been the danger all along.

How long would she have strolled casually down this path if Kylie hadn’t made her silly little self-deprecating comment about plan B?

No matter how much Kylie may tease, or threaten, or even worry about being forced to stay, she wouldn’t. The hook worked its way deeper, piercing skin and ripping at old scars, because once Fletcher’s mind started down this path, there was no way to stop it from remembering another time when this place and the work weren’t the only things destined to come up short for Kylie. No matter how close they’d grown or how strong the connection between them, mentally, emotionally, physically, she’d never been enough.

She’d never be enough.

It was an old narrative, so well-rehearsed it didn’t tax her at all to summon the lines. She could recite them the way Kylie could with her scripts.

She allowed her eyes to wander down the row to where the woman who’d walked away all those years ago stood chatting with Ava. The image of the two of them together nearly jolted Fletcher off her hay bale and out of the stupor she’d worked herself into.

Something had changed, and it nearly slapped her in the face.

Kylie had come back.

She was standing across the arena, and what’s more, if Kylie’s explanation of the emotions she’d directed at Ava until recently was to be believed, this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to return. Kylie had come back for her once before, and she was in the midst of doing so again.

Why hadn’t she stopped to consider that? Or maybe the better question was what would it mean for her to think about it now?

Chapter Twenty-One

Kylie sat curled up on the end of the couch, her feet tucked under her butt and a script open on the e-reader perched atop her lap. She’d spent the last hour refamiliarizing herself with Talia’s brilliant screenplay, and every line she read made her fall deeper in love. This entire movie screamed at her about the reasons she’d wanted to be an actress in the first place. The dialogue crackled, the characters were deftly developed, the plot hummed with passion and pageantry, and with Sophia Leblanc’s eye for cinematography, this film had the potential for timelessness. She sighed and set it aside for a second to stare at the fire and picture it all coming together in her mind.

“What?” Fletcher asked bluntly.

She glanced over to her where she reclined along the rest of the couch. “It’s all so magical.”