Page 9 of Quiver

“I get the idea.” Fletcher cut them off. If these two weren’t so genuine, they’d be insufferable. “What are you up to?”

“We got in from the city last night, so we’re running around, seeing folks and playing Santa at a few more stops before we head over to Gram’s tonight,” Ava explained. “And you know we couldn’t miss you and Bear on our present drop.”

Fletcher smiled as she shook her head, giving brief consideration to reiterating that they didn’t need to keep getting her gifts. It wouldn’t do any good, so she wiped her hands on her jeans and nodded for them to follow her to the house. “Come on. I’ve got something for you all, too.”

They trudged across the driveway, crunching down a couple inches of fresh snow until they came to the side door of her large, white farmhouse. She kicked the dirt and ice from her work boots as best she could, then tracked what was left across her kitchen floor.

Bex and Ava followed, holding open the door for Bear, who lumbered along at the rear.

She grabbed a bottle with a bow around it off the counter and passed it to her guests. “I don’t do fancy wrapping.”

Bex turned the frosted glass in her hands until she could read the label. “Maple cream bourbon?”

“It’s from a local distillery, top shelf. It made me think of you two because Ava likes the sweet stuff, but Bex, I know you like the good stuff. This is both.”

Ava jumped forward and hugged her. “That’s so nice.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Bex added. “Thank you.”

“Here’s yours.” Ava produced a thin box wrapped in bright red paper from her coat. “You don’t have to wait. You can open it now.”

She did as instructed, knowing better than keep these two from holiday fun. After tearing the paper and sliding out the box, she slowly revealed a sleeve of rich brown leather. Turning it over, she marveled at the dark inlay of her brand, an arrow splitting a compass, identical to the tattoo it would cover on her forearm. “Wow, where did you get this?”

“I made it,” Ava said sheepishly.

“Of course you did. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s one of those wrist protector things for archers,” Bex explained unnecessarily.

“A bracer,” she corrected as she rolled up her sleeve and slipped it on.

“It was Bex’s idea,” Ava explained as she stepped forward to help snug the straps into place. “She noticed yours was plain and said such a cool piece of armor should be more personal.”

“I love it,” Fletcher said honestly, admiring the way it molded to her forearm. “Thank you.”

“We both understand the need to protect your hands when they’re the tools of your trade,” Bex said.

“Never thought I’d have that in common with an anesthesiologist.”

“I never thought I’d even know an archer, so we’re even.”

“And I’m glad I know you both.” Ava grinned. “We should get together while we’re all in town at the same time. What are your plans for Christmas?”

She shook her head, not wanting to get pulled into anything. “I’m going to Ryder’s for dinner tonight, to watch the kids open their presents. They’re flying out to see our parents tomorrow.”

“On Christmas Day?” Ava asked.

She nodded. “Good prices on a holiday, and they’ll get to have Christmas dinner with the grandparents.”

“The Christmas split.” Bex smiled wistfully. “We’ve been there.”

“So, what are you doing tomorrow?”

Fletcher kicked herself internally. She should’ve known Ava wouldn’t let a detail like that slide. “I’m going to let myself sleep in, and then use the day off to—”

“Practice,” Ava finished for her, with a hint of disapproval.

Fletcher shrugged.