Page 93 of Quiver

“I totally understand,” Bex said.

“I do, too,” Ava agreed, then nodded toward Winston. “Go ahead.”

They all waited expectantly, and Fletcher slowly realized they intended to watch. “No. Not a chance. I was trying to be polite, but let me spell it out now. I want to get back to work without an audience, which means no more babysitters.”

Ava blushed. “Oh.”

Bex grinned. “You can’t blame us for trying, but, honestly, I’m shocked you let us stick around this long. You know we’re just a phone call away.”

“I do, and I also know you’ll find several excuses to stop by.”

“Fair enough,” Ava said grudgingly, then reached for Bex’s hand. “I guess I’ll let you buy me lunch.”

Bex smiled broadly. “Lucky me.”

“Make good decisions,” Ava called on her way out. “Bye, Kylie.”

Fletcher watched them go, then turned around slowly. “What about you?”

Kylie shrugged. “I intended to shift back into work mode myself if that’s okay.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m here. I need to practice. I was about to saddle up Winston until you called dibs, but I can shoot from the ground or maybe use a saddle on one of the barrels like the kids do. I need to improve my release points for the third shot in the sequence.”

Fletcher frowned, not because it sounded like a ploy, but because it didn’t. Which didn’t mean it wasn’t totally calculated. Kylie had always been a master at getting her way without letting someone realize what they’d conceded, but she hadn’t pushed for much of anything lately. Even when Fletcher had demanded she leave, Kylie hadn’t crossed any lines.

She sighed heavily at the memory and the events that had sparked it, the echo of her mother’s words, which in themselves were only echoes of arguments they’d had forever. Nothing she’d ever done was good enough, not for her parents and not for Kylie. When pushed, too open and too raw, she’d unloaded all of her fear and hurt and anger right at Kylie’s feet.

She wasn’t proud. She’d let everything get the best of her, and every time she replayed the conversation in her mind, she felt more than a minor prick of embarrassment about how much she’d admitted about her vulnerability, how low she’d gotten, the way she’d built defenses. What kind of power must Kylie think she held over her now?

Only, she didn’t seem to be exerting any of it. On the contrary, when she’d come downstairs this morning, Kylie’s suitcase was already packed and sitting by the door, which had only made her already tight shoulders twinge for a new reason. The reminder Kylie was leaving should’ve strengthened her resolve. Instead, it left her resistance weaker, as if not having something to brace herself against made her feel as though she were falling forward.

Kylie shifted from one foot to the other. “Look, we’ve got less than three weeks to train, but if you tell me to leave, I’ll respect your choice.”

The statement was almost shockingly reasonable. When had Kylie respected any of her choices, especially when they conflicted with her own? Had their changed roles reversed, and if so, did that make Fletcher the unreasonable one? She rubbed her face and muttered, “Fuck.”

“What?” Kylie stepped forward as if she might touch her, but then thinking better of it withdrew her hand, another subtle signal she was actually trying to honor Fletcher’s boundaries.

She gritted her teeth. This is what she’d wanted, what she’d proclaimed from day one. “You can stay.”

Kylie arched an eyebrow.

“Not in the house, but here, to work. You can practice, not babysit me.”

The corner of Kylie’s lips curled up, but not in triumph so much as genuine happiness, which served only to rattle Fletcher further, who fleetingly wished she didn’t have those smiles catalogued well enough to tell the difference.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Kylie hit the third shot in her sequence and fought the urge to let out a whoop of triumph. She was still missing that particular shot as often as she made it, but every time she did, she felt a little closer.

Picking up Winston’s reins, she eased from a canter to a trot and then wheeled him around as her eyes swept the arena.

Fletcher wasn’t there. She tamped down her surge of disappointment with the same force as Winston’s hooves hitting the sandy ground beneath them. Not that it would’ve made any difference if Fletcher had been watching. The two of them had been eerily neutral around each other all week, which wasn’t to say the old walls had gone back up. Not exactly. It was more like they’d taken all the emotion and energy they’d pointed at each other and funneled them into preparing for the showcase taking place two weeks from today.

Perhaps Fletcher was eager to have a deadline on their time together, or maybe she simply preferred concentrating on something concrete instead of the emotional gauntlet of the last few weeks, but at least she’d been more forthcoming than usual when it came to practice and instruction. She’d also enlisted Ava’s help to promote the event, and within a few days, Kylie began seeing flyers for the showcase everywhere she went. By the end of the week, the whole town wanted in on the action. Even Kylie’s mom set aside her nervousness about all the time spent out at the farm when she heard about the prospect of a shopping trip to find Kylie something regal to wear in her role as queen of the festivities.

Fletcher did her usual good-natured grumbling about Kylie turning her shooting ring into a circus, but she’d smiled grudgingly as they’d crossed off the last open competitor’s spot on a full slate of reservations. Apparently, her former students and other local horse archery hobbyists weren’t immune to the excitement of a celebrity in their midst, and they didn’t even know the half of it. Kylie hadn’t told anyone outside of their immediate circle about the movie role at stake or about their powerful guests of honor. No, the locals seemed eager enough to see what she and Fletcher had been up to out here. The genuine affection and interest should’ve done wonders for her confidence and self-esteem, but before she collected her arrows from their well-struck targets, she glanced over her shoulder one more time.