Chapter Three
Three
I caught up to Emily at the front gate just in time for her opening speech, and we both took in the hearty huzzahs from the excited patrons waiting to get in. I was so busy smiling at everyone, curtsying and shaking hands, that when I grinned back at Emily I forgot that I was mad at her.
I guess I wasn’t anymore.
But she didn’t know that. Not at first. “Lady Guenevere,” she said, her voice the unconcerned air of a monarch, “I must beg your forgiveness. I regret the position I put you in today. Had I known…”
“It is of no matter.” That was the great thing about being in character at the renaissance faire.
You could talk about serious, even private things, but if you did it in an accent and old-fashioned words, passersby barely paid attention.
“You could not have known. Besides, I assume the matter is now closed.”
“Oh, very much so,” she said firmly. “I see no reason for us to trouble ourselves with him in the future.” Her eyes met mine, and without speaking we telegraphed a lot: her genuine apology, my forgiveness.
Besides, it wasn’t really Emily I was pissed at.
As long as I could avoid Alex, I could relax and enjoy the day.
I should have known better.
We managed to steer clear of the Chaucer Stage, but this was a small Faire. I was bound to run into Alex again at some point, and his words echoed in my head all day. What happened? There’d been no judgment in the question, no real emotion at all. Just curiosity.
What happened? It was infuriating. How did he not know? How had he been living these past few years not knowing how he’d made me feel? How small? How unimportant?
Gah. Enough. I brushed the dark thoughts aside and brightened my smile. Like the Queen said in her gate speech, this was a place of joy, where the cares of everyday life couldn’t touch us. Time to act like it.
Before I knew it, the sun was high in the sky, and it was the second human combat chess match of the day.
This time, I stood by Emily’s side, grinning across the field at Stacey, who waved merrily at the Queen and me.
I broke character just enough to wave back, while Emily’s in-character smile was indulgent.
“Never one for protocol, our Beatrice,” she said, and I smothered a laugh with my hand.
It had been a while since Stacey had been on cast, so I hadn’t heard her referred to by her Faire name in…
well, it had been years. Hearing it now filled me with nostalgia.
This whole weekend had overwhelmed me with memories, creating a haze I could easily get lost in.
And since nothing else was required of me right now, I let myself sink into that haze.
On the field, Jeremy did his thing with the quarterstaff, and before I knew it Simon and Mitch were up.
I was standing close enough to Emily that I could hear her tiny, happy sigh as her pirate husband took the field.
His and Mitch’s fight went from swords to fists to flips, just like the day before, and every season before this for as long as I could remember.
I knew every moment of it. Mitch went flying, then landed solidly on his feet, ready to beat the pirate into submission.
Except this time he didn’t. Land solidly on his feet. I could tell that something had gone wrong the moment his boots left the ground. Simon let out a grunt that I’d never heard before, his body twisting a little oddly, and there was something…off about Mitch’s catapult through the air.
Beside me, Emily sucked in a breath. “Oh, no.” The exclamation was out of character but quiet, little more than an exhale.
We both winced as he landed, one ankle buckling despite the support of those thick leather boots. A grimace floated across his face for a moment before a stonier expression settled there.
“That didn’t look right,” Emily muttered.
I shook my head as on the other side of her Toby frowned. “No,” he said. “It didn’t.”
We all held a collective breath as Mitch reached for the dagger in his boot. The fight ended the way it always did, with the pirate once again on his knees, the knife at his throat. Simon glared up at Mitch, defeated, but I could see the tiniest arch of his brow, and Mitch’s subtle nod.
But that nod was a lie. As Mitch and Simon left the middle of the field, Mitch was limping. Not obviously, but I knew these guys. They were family.
Beside me, Emily blew out a long breath around a soft curse. “That was…”
“Yeah.” That fight hadn’t gone quite right. Just as nothing was going right today. This weekend. Hell, this whole summer.
—
“Is he okay?” Toby bent his head toward me as we progressed down the lane.
“How should I know? I’ve been right here with you the whole time.
” We couldn’t stick around after the chess match ended, as we were due at the jousting field.
The Queen had a full schedule, but the day was almost over.
After the joust all we had to do was make our way to pub sing, the farewell show at the stage nearest the gate.
As we left the chess field I glanced over my shoulder.
Usually Mitch would be milling around, interacting with the guests, fist-bumping the kids, stuff like that.
Now he sat on one of the audience benches, one leg stretched out in front of him.
He was still smiling and joking, but I knew Mitch. That smile was a wince. He wasn’t okay.
“Do you think he’ll be able to do the chess match next week?
” Emily looked at me with worried eyes, and I couldn’t believe that sentence had come out of her mouth.
That was the kind of thing I’d expect from Simon.
But maybe that was what happened when you were married to someone for a long time—after a while you shared a single brain cell.
“That’s your first question?” None of us were in character as we mounted the covered dais, our designated spot for the joust. Thankfully, we were far enough from the crowd that our voices didn’t carry. As long as we kept our expressions light and pleasant, no one would be the wiser.
Emily nodded through a wide smile, waving to the audience. “At least the weekend’s almost over,” she said. “If he just tweaked his ankle or something, he can rest up this week.”
“Yes.” I applauded, an automatic action, as the knights on horseback began to take the field. “Because that’s the most important thing. That he’ll be able to perform next weekend.”
Emily tsked at me without losing the smile on her face, an impressive feat. “Believe me,” she said. “He’s thinking the same thing.” She kicked her skirts in front of her, stepping forward to give the speech that would commence the joust.
I bit at the inside of my cheek while my mind replayed, over and over, Mitch flipping over Simon’s shoulder, landing wrong. He wasn’t a small guy; that was a lot of weight to land badly on his ankle. I took a step back, then another, before leaning in toward Toby. “I’m going to go check on him.”
He raised his eyebrows. “On Mitch?” He nodded. “We’ll meet you at pub sing.”
Emily was midway through her speech as I slipped off the stage, walking calmly until I was back to the lane. Then I walked faster, and when that wasn’t enough I picked up the front of my skirts and ran, dodging patrons as I went.
The chess field was empty when I got there.
Okay, he was able to walk away. That was a good sign.
If he wasn’t here, he was probably on the way to the Hollow.
All he had left on his schedule was general interaction with patrons.
But he was injured, so walking around the Faire was out of the picture.
I caught up to him just outside the food court area, but I immediately wished I hadn’t. He was making his way slowly toward the side path that led to the Hollow, leaning on…
Dammit, he was leaning on Alex. Their backs were to me, but that forest-green jerkin and breeches were already as familiar to me as Simon’s pirate hat with its big red feather and Mitch’s kilt.
Why the hell was Alex helping him? He hadn’t been at the chess match.
The two of them looked ridiculous; Alex wasn’t much taller than I was, and Mitch easily had six inches on him.
Now that Alex was part of the mix, I hesitated.
They had this, right? But then Mitch stumbled, and Alex staggered a little under his weight.
I imagined going home and telling Mom that not only had I let her partner get injured (okay, it hadn’t been my fault, but I was carrying a lot of guilt in this scenario) but I didn’t help him afterward.
The last thing I needed in my life right now was Mom disappointment.
So I stifled a sigh and rushed forward to Mitch’s other side, slinging his arm over my shoulders to help take his weight. There. Now Alex and I looked equally ridiculous.
“Oh, hey. Thanks, kiddo.” Mitch’s voice was strained and a little out of breath as we worked our way through the almost empty food court. The hill was slow going, and my completely inadequate slippers skidded on the dirt path, and for a scary moment Mitch and Alex had to hold me up.
“You okay?” Mitch shouldn’t be asking me that; wasn’t he the injured one here? On the other side of him, Alex looked at me with concerned eyes.
“I’m good.” My voice was short and my breath came fast in my chest. I didn’t want Alex to look at me like that.
I didn’t want concern from either of them.
I concentrated on planting my feet more solidly on the steep hill as we made our way down.
My attention kept wandering back to Alex, and we exchanged concerned looks, animosity temporarily forgotten as we worked together to get Mitch down into the Hollow.
“Is there ice?” Alex asked as soon as we got there.
“First aid kit.” I nodded toward the changing tent. “Should be an ice pack in there.” He dashed inside while I settled Mitch on one of the folding chairs, pulling another one over to elevate his bad leg. Then I moved to unlace his boot, but Mitch stopped me.
“I’ll never get it back on again.” He winced as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. His kilt rode up, and I’d never been so grateful for a pair of bike shorts. “I’ll take it off once I get home.”
Alex emerged from the tent with an ice pack, preparing to pop the inner seal, but stopped as he took in the sight in front of him.
“You shouldn’t take that boot off.”
“I know,” I said, exasperated.
Mitch waved away the ice pack. “Save that,” he said. “I’ll ice the ankle when we get home.”
Footsteps came down the hill then, and I looked up to see Simon approaching, hat in his hand and concern etched on his face. He opened his mouth, but Mitch cut him off with an upraised hand.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be okay by next weekend.”
Simon frowned. “I wasn’t going to ask that,” he said reproachfully.
“Not at first,” Mitch said with a pained smirk, and Simon gave a small laugh.
“Okay, yeah,” he conceded. “I’d let you get back from urgent care first. How’s the ankle?”
“Shitty,” Mitch said, and Simon nodded as though that were a helpful answer. He glanced over his shoulder up the hill.
“I should get back up there…”
“Go.” Mitch waved a hand. “Both of you. You’ve got pub sing still. We’ll be okay here.”
I didn’t know which group Mitch had put me in: the one that should go to pub sing, or the one that would be okay here. So I just hovered awkwardly for a moment until Alex nodded, stepping away and toward Simon.
“Hope everything’s okay…” He met my eyes and something in me shifted.
After the way I’d yelled at him this morning, I shouldn’t want to extend our moment of solidarity we’d shared while getting Mitch down here and settled.
My fingers shouldn’t itch to brush back that lock of hair that, after all these years, still fell over his forehead.
Instead I curled my hands into fists and nodded a tired goodbye as Simon and Alex started up the hill, then I grabbed another folding chair for myself. I sank to a seat while, beside me, Mitch heaved a sigh. “Cait…”
“Yeah?”
Another sigh as his bright blue eyes met mine. Mitch looked defeated. Deflated. I’d never seen him like that. It was unnerving. “I don’t think I’m okay,” he finally said.
“Don’t worry,” I said with a bravado I didn’t feel. Because what was I, an orthopedic surgeon? The man didn’t even want to take off his boot.
“You think you could drive my truck home?” He produced his keys from the sporran belted around his waist, holding them out to me.
“Of course.” I snagged them and laid them on the table in front of me, then pulled the tiara free from my hair. “I got you.”
The sounds of the renaissance faire were faint as the sun grew golden, slanting through the trees in the late afternoon. We were far away from pub sing, happening way off near the front gate. Patrons still milled around out there, but down here in the Hollow, our day at the Faire was over.