Chapter Twenty-Four
If someone had asked Maggie where she imagined herself on day two of the knitting retreat, her answer wouldn’t have been “Big
Al’s Hatchet House.” But that’s exactly where she finds herself, along with Piper, Lexi, Sheila, and the entire bachelor party.
Even Belinda decided to tag along.
“Someone’s gotta keep Barclay Cavanaugh honest,” she said.
The Hatchet House is a cavernous space inside an unassuming, farmhouse-style building a short drive from the inn. It’s set
up with batting cage–like stalls outfitted with bull’s-eye targets. The rest of the space has wood-plank floors, a bar with
beer on tap and a merch section selling Al’s Hatchet House baseball caps, T-shirts, beer mugs and shot glasses. There’s a
viewing section with bleachers, and a giant American flag covers nearly an entire wall. Classic rock plays over the sound
system: the Stones. Bruce. Bon Jovi.
The bachelors cluster together near the bar, and the knitters are looking at a display of vintage axes.
“I want one of these for our den,” Lexi says.
No one asks her why Dove didn’t come along, and she doesn’t offer an explanation. Laurel, too, made a point of sitting it out. Maggie understands that Dove is frustrated by the distraction on their honeymoon. She’s not quite sure what Laurel’s upset about.
Barclay ambles over and asks if they have any questions.
“I do,” Lexi says. “Does axe-throwing really count as bushcraft? We’re not even outdoors.”
“Young lady, axe-throwing requires strength, accuracy and precision. All vital in bushcraft. It’s also a test of mental focus
and discipline. So you can tell me you’re not up to the challenge. But that’s about the end of this here discussion.”
Lexi puts her hands on her hips, widening her stance. “Don’t you worry—I’m up for it.”
A young man holding a clipboard and dressed in a Hatchet House T-shirt gathers all of them together. He gives a fifteen-minute
safety briefing before handing things off to Barclay. Apparently, Aidan’s father-in-law is quite the accomplished axeman.
Everyone at the place knows him by name, and the safety instructor admits Barclay could “probably teach him a thing or two.”
Barclay and the instructors give them tips for finding their grip and maintaining a solid stance. Then Barclay geeks out on
them about technique and Maggie’s mind wanders. So does her eye.
Aidan is out of her direct line of vision, so she has to pretend to check out the vintage axe display while sneaking glances
at him. Somewhere between the last bushcraft activity and the end of the brioche class, she admitted to herself that she’s
attracted to him. When she looks at him, she finds herself sort of memorizing the color of his eyes, the arch of his brows,
the line of his jaw. It’s an old habit from the days before iPhones, when she could spend all night talking to someone at
a party and then literally never see them again.
Maggie is already thinking of a near-future version of herself, maybe a month from now, when she’s forgotten how it feels to be around an attractive man like Aidan. The flutter she feels in her chest, the sense of being acutely awake . . . it will be like it never happened.
Aidan is looking straight ahead at Barclay, but as if sensing Maggie’s eyes on him, he turns toward her. She quickly looks
away, heart pounding. She feels like a teenager. If Piper knew this was going on in her mind, she’d tease her. For good reason.
Maybe, after the weekend, she’ll confess. They’ll have a laugh about it driving back to the city together.
“When I use the term ‘throw arc,’ I mean the final path of your axe once it leaves your hand,” Barclay says. “Remember: left-to-right
accuracy is far more important than vertical. Even though the targets are circles, your axe landing even a millimeter too
far left or right is a miss. Vertically, you have the entire length of the blade that can be in the bull’s-eye.”
The safety staffer helps everyone select a comfortable axe for themselves. Maggie chooses one with a thin handle with flat
edges for grip. When it’s time to separate into Team Bachelors and Team Knitters, Lexi says, “How’s this scoring system gonna
work if the guy team has twice as many throwers as we do?”
“Why don’t each of you throw twice?” says Aidan’s nephew, the actual bachelor of the party.
“Because then we’re going to get tired out twice as fast,” Piper says. Maggie gives her a thumbs-up for the good point, and
Piper rolls her eyes at her enthusiasm.
After much debate and an embarrassing display of math skills, they figure out a system where only half of the men’s throws
count toward the tally. To keep score, Barclay oversees Team Bachelors while Belinda maintains the tally for Team Knitters.
Maggie’s played her fair share of darts games, and that makes the scoring system somewhat familiar to her: Hitting the bull’s-eye
garners the most points, with each ring decreasing in value moving outward.
Each team forms a short line at the shared target lane. Lexi’s taking the first throw for their team, and Aidan is up first for the bachelors.
“Ladies first,” Barclay says, and Lexi shakes her head as she steps up to the demarcation line at their lane. Then, using
a two-handed grip, she raises her axe straight overhead, leaning slightly forward as she throws. She hits the target near
the center.
“Excellent first throw,” Barclay calls out.
“Don’t be patronizing,” Lexi says.
Whiteboards with markers are mounted on each side of the wall, and Belinda hesitates before calculating their team’s first
points.
“The axe is touching two zones.” Belinda consults with Barclay.
“Go by the zone where the majority of the blade sticks. If it’s equal, we go with the higher score.”
Aidan is up next. Maggie wants to watch, but she’s certain her more-than-casual feelings will show all over her face. She
makes small talk with Lexi instead.
He lands the bull’s-eye. Of course he does.
When it’s Piper’s turn, she laughs while trying to maintain a good stance.
“Come on, city girl,” Barclay calls out. “Do your team proud.”
“No pressure!” Belinda says.
“You’ve got this,” Maggie chimes in.
Piper releases her throw and the axe misses the target entirely.
“Do I get to go again?” she says.
Barclay tells her she has three tries before her turn counts as a zero. But she misses each time.
“Okay, I suck,” she says, but she’s grinning. She’s happy.
Maggie won’t hesitate to take credit: This trip was a stroke of genius.
There’s no way Piper would have bounced back so quickly after the professional blow last week if they’d stayed in the city.
Remarkably, she seems less affected by it than Maggie, who is still thinking about how to fix things for her.
Just because Gretchen was the first person to see Piper’s potential doesn’t mean she’s the only one who ever will.
Piper just has to get herself back out there.
“I might be the weak link here,” Piper says, returning in defeat. The next bachelor in line steps up for his throw. This time,
it’s Aidan’s nephew.
“Never.” Maggie smiles and puts her arm around her. Scott’s hatchet lands with a thud, but it’s a low-scoring area.
“See? He barely did any better than you,” Maggie says.
“Aside from actually hitting the target, you mean?” Piper says. Then, leaning closer. “Listen, I have an interesting idea
for tonight.”
“Oh?”
She nods vigorously. “Cole invited us to go camping with them tonight. Not for the competition. Just us—for fun.”
Maggie is surprised. Piper loves animals, but she’s never been particularly outdoorsy. She is, as Barclay said, a “city girl.”
They’ve never gone camping together. It never even crossed Maggie’s mind. The closest they got was an extremely rustic hotel
when they took a road trip to the Outer Banks one summer. She wonders what’s going on. If it weren’t for Ethan, she’d think
for sure Piper had a flirtation going with Cole Danby. But it can’t be that. Maybe she’s genuinely having a good time and
is caught up in the momentum of the weekend. The thought makes Maggie profoundly happy.
And of course, for her own reasons, the invitation to spend more time with the Danbys is appealing. The knitting retreat just
got a lot more interesting.
Barclay is not happy to see Team Knitters within two points of tying the score after Round One.
Aidan huddles everyone together to strategize.
Out of the entire bachelor party, only a few of them are significantly better throwers than the women.
Ritchie is one of them, but the beer is making his game sloppy.
“Ritchie, we’re cutting you off until you rack up some points for us.”
“And Cole, no more cavorting with the competition,” Barclay says.
Aidan did notice that Cole made a point of helping one of the knitters with her throw: Kalli, the dark-haired, dark-eyed young
woman from the knitting class.
“Got it, Grandpa,” he says. Then, quietly to Aidan: “I hope you don’t mind cavorting with the competition too. Because I invited
Maggie and Piper camping with us tonight.”
Aidan makes a face like, ha ha. Then he realizes Cole is serious.
“Wait. You did? Why?”
“I guess the same reason you invited them to build the fort,” he says with a shrug. But Aidan isn’t letting him off the hook
that easily.
“That was a bet.”
Cole gives him a look like, come on.
“She has a boyfriend, you know,” Aidan says. “Maggie tells me they’re practically engaged.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You tell me.”
If Cole’s attracted to unavailable women, Piper Hodges fits the criteria. Now that Barclay’s implying some sort of toxic pattern,
he can’t help but see it too. And even though Barclay asked him not to, he has to say something to Cole. His first responsibility, always, is to Cole.
He almost wishes Barclay hadn’t invited him out for drinks in the first place. He didn’t need to hear about Cole’s relationship,