13. Secret, Secret, I’ve Got a Secret
“Umm…Chef…!”
“Yes, Mick, what is it?!”
“My hand’s beginning to cramp up! Would it be alright if we took a break…just a little one?!”
Chef Bartolomeo marched down the long line of folding chairs that had been set up in the front’s western field, studying everyone’s watercolored canvases as he made his way to Mr. Morris at the opposite end of the row.
“Bien, Thomas. Oh…very good Clara! Mr. Kensington! Your watercolor was supposed to be wet on wet, not wet on marinated!”
“Good one, Chef,” Mick said as Chef Bartolomeo shot him a silencing stare.
Mick cowered back into his canvas as Chef returned his attention to Mr. Kensington.
“Let it dry more or it will continue to drip. I’ll show you how to lift any unwanted color in just a few minutes. In the meantime, Mrs. Kensington, please help your husband. Good, Jada. Great, Kelly. Excellent, Bonnie! Alright, Mr. Morris, let’s see what it is that you’ve painted that makes you feel like you’ve earned the right to ask me for a break.”
Chef barely looked at the distorted round subject of Mick’s painting before tearing into his confidence.
“Pssh…what is this travesty? The layers are dreadful. The feathering is lazy, and worst of all, it’s dull...dreary even. Of all the things you could have chosen to paint, you chose a simple, unimaginative ball of some sort…and, I might add, a completely misshapen ball at that!”
“Chef, if I may interject…”
“No! No, you may not, Mr. Morris. It’s rude to interrupt a beration. And I’ve not even begun to berate you! Your strokes are sloppy, your color choice is abysmal, the very air you exhale insults me, and if I weren’t paid to suck up to, I’d…”
“Chef Bartolomeo!” Mick interrupted, sparing Chef from suffering a pulmonary embolism. “While most of your hurtful critiques may be true…it’s…it’s not a ball at all. It’s…it’s an onion.”
Mick”s piece suddenly pierced Chef’s heart through to the aortic valve.
“It’s um…it’s my way, Chef, of…saying how right you were…and how sorry I am for offending you. Ethel was not like some money-hungry producer or some limelight-guzzling co-star. Ethel Lancaster was…an onion.”
“A caramelized onion!”
Mick ascended to his feet, stared into Chef’s eyes, and added, “Perfectly caramelized…by the greatest chef I’ve ever known.”
The pair of grown men threw their arms around one another and sobbed like tired toddlers receiving immunizations. The other guests applauded the scene of reconciliation as Thomas saw an opportunity to escape unnoticed.
“Come on, Jack,” he whispered. “To the library.”
“But I’ve not even begun to chiaroscuro!”
“Two words, Jack: Jane…Austen.”
Jack’s eyeballs darted back and forth, seemingly weighing the options, and with a nod, he and Thomas snuck away from the group in a dead sprint.
“Alright,” Avi said, “I’ll show it to you, but you have to promise never to tell a single soul.”
“Why are ye whispering?” he asked.
“Shhh!”
“Whit!?”
“If even one staff member sees you here rather than out running errands with my brother, it could get back to the other guests.”
“Ye mean…it could get back tae Bonnie.”
“Specifically…yes.”
“Fine. Ah’ll whisper.”
“And promise you”ll…”
“N’ promise ah’ll never tell a single soul. Happy?”
“I suppose. Alright…you see that dark gray book at the very end of the shelf over there?”
Mr. MacKinnon walked over to the bookshelf and read the title, “Irene Idessleigh. How is this a secret?”
“Pull it.”
“Pull it?”
Avi nodded with an eager grin. He looked at her like she was about to make him the butt of a mean-hearted practical joke - maybe retribution for his sousing hug - before looking back at the old book on the shelf. With a brief and unimpressed shrug, he gave its cover a tug as the clank of the latch rang out, and the bookcase detached from the wall. Stunned, he looked back and forth between Avi and the mysterious passageway.
“Is this a…”
“Mhmm.”
“Ah figured ye were pretty wealthy, bit ah had na idea you were secret-room-in-the-library wealthy!”
“Right. Because when you own a four million dollar home, the thousand dollar hidden door is what really sets you apart from the other millionaires.”
She hadn’t meant to sound braggadocious. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.
“Kin ah go in?”
Avi nodded just as she heard the voices of Thomas and Jack coming from out in the hallway.
“Hurry! Get in!” she vigorously whispered.
Avi pushed Mr. MacKinnon through its threshold and slammed the door just as Thomas and Jack entered the library.
“Had they seen?”She wondered.
“Oh my gosh, Thomas…I forgot to show you what I was reading last night. Listen to this,” Jack said as he found the proper page, sat down, and waited for Thomas to join him on the couch nearest the fireplace. “...But his countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther, and when he ceased, the color rose into her cheeks.”
“I understood every single one of those words, Jack!”
“Me too, mate! And they were pure poetry to my person,” Jack said as he closed his eyes, raised his face to the heavens, and held the pages to his drumming heart.
“How did she do it? She was like a wizardess with words!”
“Thomas…did you just call my dear Lady Austen…a witch?”
“No! Witches use dark magic. Lady Austen uses humor, tone, character building…she was a wizardess with words, not a witch! And anyone who says otherwise is going to have to answer to me.”
“Precisely, Thomas. Which is why I came close to knocking your block off before you clarified your intent with the word wizardess.”
Avi listened with an ear pressed against the other side of the door. Fortunately, her and her companion’s narrow escape had gone unnoticed by the now quarreling duo whose proclivity for unknowingly holding her hostage made her want to have a secret second exit installed in her hidden room.
“”Tis incredible,” she heard Mr. MacKinnon say.
“Shhh…”
“Ah’m sorry,” he whispered. “Tis juist…wow.”
The pull to see his expression nearly won out, but just before she was about to peer over her shoulder, a third voice from the library reseized Avi’s attention.
“There you two are! Didn”t you want lunch?”
“I’m sorry, Jada, but how can I think about the scant scraps of a picnic when I’m feasting upon this literary cuisine?”
“Valid point,” Jack added without looking up from his ink-induced coma.
Jada wasn’t sure if it was Thomas’s rejection of her invitation, his refusal to look at her, his new-found obsession with something she treasured, his rugged handsomeness, or some sultry combination of everything, but she had never desired anyone more than she longed for Thomas at that moment.
“Thomas…why aren’t there more men like you?” she asked as she began lightly massaging his knee before slowly inching up the muscular roadway of his thigh.
Without losing his place on the page, Thomas gently yet emphatically slapped away her lusty meathook like a pestering mosquito and pressed forward in the story. His swat had deterred her physically, but his denial had only fueled her emotional, mental, and passionate flames. She - now ready to abandon the picnic in pursuit of Thomas - stood up, walked over to the shelves, and ran her fingers along a long row of books until she came to the dullish gray of Irene Idessleigh.
“Let’s play a game…do either of you remember what I told you about the book Irene Idessleigh?”
Avi’s already large eyes grew three sizes as she grabbed and held firm to the hidden door’s latch.
She heard Thomas and Jack barely respond in the apathetic negative.
“Well, it’s simple to play. We each take turns reading…” she said as Avi felt the latch lifting. “What the…it’s stuck!”
With each of Jada’s tugs, Avi felt the latch fighting against her squeeze.
“What’s stuck?” Jack asked.
“The book…it’s stuck. It’s almost like…wait a second…I know what this is! This is just like in the movies! This is one of those mechanisms that unlocks a hidden passageway.”
Avi knew not even Jane Austen could hold their attention over something so etched into a man’s DNA as the adventurous call of a hidden passageway.
“Here…you’re not pulling hard enough,” Jack said as he added his strength to hers.
Undiluted, pure panic swept over Avi’s entire being. Mr. MacKinnon ran over to relieve her of latch-holding duties. His grip was much stronger than hers, but it didn’t matter now. Even if Mr. MacKinnon held them off all day, eventually one of them was bound to come back and give Irene one more pry when neither she nor Mr. MacKinnon were there to stand watch.
“Have you tried twisting it?” Thomas asked.
“Twisting it? Mate, it’s got books on one side of it and wood on the other…how exactly does one go about twisting it?”
“I don’t know, Jack! I’m only trying to help.”
“It’s no use,” Jada said as she let go, leaving Jack alone to pull. “The latch must be broken. It’s gotta be right here though.”
“Oh yeah! I mean, you can see how this bookcase isn’t built into the wall the same as the others.”
“Excuse me…what is going on here?” Gracie interrupted, providing Avi with momentary relief.
“We think we found…”
“Jack,” Thomas interrupted, “found a book he really wanted to read.”
“Jack, I thought I already made myself clear this morning…there will be plenty of time to read after all the planned activities. Come now. You two bring such fun energy to the group. They need you down there. You too Jada.”
“Sorry, Ms. Hawthorne,” they said in perfect synchronicity.
“Right, well…let’s be off before Chef eats your portions.”
Avi listened closely to the sound of four sets of feet growing evermore muffled and distant until the coast was clear.
“Mr. MacKinnon, what am I going to do? They’ll come back and try again. I can’t live in here standing guard.”
He looked quizzically around the room as if waiting for a timely epiphany to strike.
“Dae those windows open?” he finally asked.
“Yes…I think so.”
“Then here’s whit we’ll dae…ye go downstairs ‘n’ grab me a string or somethin’ ah can use tae lock th’ latch. Then ah’ll open th’ window, shimmy down th’ side o’ th’ house, ‘n’ meet ye out back.”
“Then it’ll be locked forever. I can’t ‘shimmy’ back up the house and climb through the window to untie it after you’ve all gone home.”
“Aye…which ah guess means ye’ll have tae invite me back sometime to dae all that fur ye.”
Forty-eight hours earlier, she would have felt overjoyed by his second attempt in less than an hour to invite himself back to Hawthorne Hall, but knowing the estate would be back on the market before such a reunion could happen quelled her evanescent delight.
“Perhaps.”
Avi snuck down to her bathroom unnoticed. She grabbed a small container of dental floss and brought it back to Mr. MacKinnon. He closed the door, tied it off with the entire roll, and made his daring escape out the window and down to the hedge-strewn gardens below. As Avi raced downstairs to meet him around back, she saw Herb, sprinting with even more haste than her, throw open the front door of Hawthorne Hall, and forget to pull it shut.
“That was odd,”she thought.
Like Alice and her enigmatic white rabbit, Avi decided to see what was causing Herb’s urgency. Rather than choose one of the more direct routes through one of the side or back doors, she took the more scenic detour by way of the front.
“What’s an extra fifteen seconds when he waited hours for me only yesterday? He’ll wait for me.”
However, when she recognized outside what had prompted the hurry in Herb’s steps, she realized the circumstances may warrant a far longer detainment. There, idling in the same place where the guests had first stepped out of their carriages and onto the grounds, was a white limousine, and Herb was talking to its driver through the front passenger side window. After a few moments, he made his way to the back passenger side door, placed his hand on the handle, and stood with splendid dignity.
“The Right Honourable, The Viscount Benjamin Lewis, and The Viscountess Lady Corey Lewis!” Herb announced before opening the limo door.
A spring of joy swelled up in Avi’s bosom. She’d seen her baby sister hundreds of times since the last time she truly saw her, but this reunion felt more real, more now, and infinitely more timely. Even after a grueling flight across the states and Atlantic, Corey was still so beautiful. While she always welcomed the comparison, Avi never quite understood how strangers could so often mistake them for twins. Yes, they both rivaled the heights of hobbits, and their dark hair and brows were accented by scathingly bright eyes, but Corey’s confidence made her seem like an ent among men, and her pricey and pedantic practices of grooming and glamor made Hollywood royalty look like everyday Skid Row Janes and Joes.
“Sis,” Corey said, “what are you waiting for? Get your cute little tush over here and hug me.”
The shock of seeing Corey had momentarily made her forget what legs were for. Avi double-timed it down the stone steps, across the gravel, and into the embrace of two outstretched familial arms.
“What are you doing here?” Avi asked as she pulled away to look over Corey once more.
“It’s called a surprise. Did it work?”
“It’s still working! Oh my gosh! I missed you!”
“I figured as much. I also figured with all that’s going on, this might be my only chance to get out here and see the place in person. And I”ve gotta say...it”s incredible, Avi,” she said as she looked over the estate. “Ugh! And I’m sorry that Uncle Ken and....”
“You know what…let’s not even talk about that. You’re here, and I couldn’t be happier…Hawthorne Hall or no Hawthorne Hall,” she said as Corey nodded in agreement. “So…did anyone else know you were coming?”
“Of course.”
“Everyone?”
“Yup.”
“Babe,” Ben said as he emerged from the limo and lifted his phone over his head, “I can’t get a signal.”
Corey left her big sister’s side, marched right over to her husband, and said, “Oh no…here, let me see.”
He handed his wife his brand new, jade black, Metavertu calfskin phone. She looked over it like a seasoned member of Best Buy’s Geek Squad, and without warning, threw it onto the roof with the power and precision of an All-Star right fielder.
“Babe…”
“Don’t you ‘Babe’ me. You promised…no phones or technology while we’re here.”
“But I was just checking…”
Her beauty seemed to stop his complaint dead in its tracks.
“Wow, Babe, you look gorgeous.”
“Nice save. Keep that up and maybe I’ll buy you another one. Now go get inside and change into one of the outfits I packed for you. I want my man looking 19th-century fine!”
Corey gave his butt a flirtatious pat as he giddily wandered off with his smitten eyes fixed on his smoking-hot wife. She looked no different than she did yesterday, but with how much time the couple spent schmoozing clients and brokering deals, Avi wouldn”t be surprised if he’d taken Corey in more in the last minute than he had the last month.
That’s not to say he wasn’t a good or even great man. He was. The same critiques of marital complacency could just as easily be extended to Corey. Still, they very much loved each other, they were equally good to one another, and what they had worked for them. It always had. Even when he was a senior and she a sophomore, the high school sweethearts were perfectly at peace in the hectic pace of personal achievement.
He was voted Most Likely to Succeed his senior year, two years later, she was voted the same, and by that time, Ben was already out in L.A. learning the ins and outs of his father’s lucrative real estate empire. Within a year of her graduation, Ben became a partner, and his new wife, Corey became the face and cerebrum of their family business.
At the pinnacle of their profession, she and her husband lacked only one thing: balance. And if she and he were to find balance anywhere, it would be within the World Wide Webless walls of Hawthorne Hall.
As Herb ran ahead with the luggage, Avi and Corey each took a seat at the wrought iron garden table.
“So I know you don’t want me to bring it up, but I have to know…how are you? You know…with the whole house…thing?”
“I don’t know. Just trying to make the most of every moment, I suppose. It hasn’t even hit me yet that it’s mine, so it’s hard to even begin imagining what it’ll feel like to lose it.”
”So you have decided to sell?”
Avi nodded. ”It”s what makes the most sense.”
“Do any of the guests know?”
“No. I think Gracie’s come close to spilling the beans once or twice, but…no.”
“Speaking of Gracie, where is she?”
“Picnicking…or helping prepare for dinner service. Cooking takes many more hands on deck now that the electricity is off.”
“And Josh?”
“With May and the kids…doing the Harry Potter Studio Tour.”
“Crap!”
“I’m sure they’d go again with you.”
“No. I was just hoping they’d be here! I mean, I haven’t even seen Bree in person yet…haven’t got to hold her or squeeze those pudgy little cheeks.”
“You’re gonna love her…and her Chrissy Teigen cheeks.”
“You know…I haven’t told anyone this, but Ben and I are thinking about having one of our own.”
“Really!?”
“Yup. I mean…we haven’t talked about it per se, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and the other day I saw him reading an article about the best schools in Los Angeles.”
“Oh my gosh, Corey! That’s so exciting!”
“I know!” she exclaimed before turning her attention back to squeezing her niece’s cheeks and wrestling with her nephews. “So what time do you think they’ll be back?”
“I’m not sure. Gracie just told them they’d need to be gone all day, so…”
Corey laughed, “Why would Gracie say that?”
“Oh…well…it’s kind of a long story. So I kind of started seeing one of the guests.”
“Which one? Thomas? Mick? Jack? Please don’t say Jack.”
“Umm…Dane MacKinnon…”
“What!? But what about Bonnie, you little home-wrecker?”
“No, it’s not like that. They broke up the first night here…but since I didn’t want it to seem like I was trying to poach a customer’s ex-boyfriend…or had something to do with their breakup, we’ve been seeing each other…kind of…secretly. So this morning Gracie asked Mr. MacKinnon in front of Bonnie and the rest of the guests if he would help Josh run some errands, and Mr. MacKinnon and I snuck away while Josh and them went into the city.”
“Oh my gosh. First of all…I love how you call him Mr. MacKinnon. Gettin’ into the whole Pride and Prejudice motif, aren”t you?”
“Not really. I started calling him that because I was mad at him, and it just kind of stuck.”
“Does he call you Ms. Hawthorne?”
“Yes, but I think he does it to tease me.”
“How intolerable...Is he a good kisser?”
“I don’t know! He’s never kissed me…well, that’s not true. He’s kissed my head.”
“Aww, how sweet…and boring.”
Suddenly, Avi remembered.
“Oh no!”
“What is it?”
“I forgot him again. That’s twice in two days.” Avi said as she stood from the table.
“What do you mean?”
“I was supposed to meet him.”
“Where is he?”
“Hiding and waiting somewhere out back.”
Corey looked over her nervous sister and seemed to beam for her. Avi wondered if she’d ever allowed herself to be seen like this: holding eye contact, speaking at an audible volume, and displaying such zeal and zest.
“Have you seen yourself? He’ll wait.”
With that compliment, Avi’s racing mind slowed some, and she sat back down; still feeling somewhat torn between her sister and her man.
“Can I ask you a question, though? If you’re going to lose the business after this week…what does it matter if the rest of the customers know or not? It’s not like Bonnie can leave a negative review on an out-of-business business.”
Avi hadn’t thought of that.
Corey continued, “It’s because the secrecy of it’s kind of hot, huh?”
“No…I mean…it is, but…I guess I’d just gotten so used to hiding it that when I found out about losing the house, I didn’t put two and two together. From the business side of things, I suppose at this point it wouldn’t matter one way or the other but from the humanity side of things…I just don’t want to hurt Bonnie.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“I know her enough…”
“...And if he makes you happy, why not stop wasting all the time it takes to do everything in secret and just see what happens between you two out in the open?”
“Because Corey…all this is going to be over in a few days. I’ll go back to the States and he’ll stay here in the U.K…and that will be that. Why add more pain to someone who’s already hurting over something that’s ultimately going to fail?”
“Nonsense.”
“It makes perfect sense.”
“No, it doesn’t, Avi. There’s always a way to make something worth working work.”
Avi, having no rebuttal to Corey’s silencing weapon of truth, sat defeated, quietly waiting for more pearls of sisterly wisdom.
“I love you, Avi. You deserve to be happy, and if Dane…if he’s who you want…make it work. I mean, do you love him?”
“Of course not! I haven’t even known him a week.”
“Okay…then are you in love with him?”
It was as if two days earlier, Corey had been eavesdropping from California on her and Mr. MacKinnon’s philosophical conversation about love.
“I don’t know what you mean…”
“Yes you do, Avi. Are you in love with him?”
She’d never asked herself that question mostly because every time her mind began to go there, she forced herself to shut it down. Such a question was utterly insane to its mangled, crippled core. Why should she be in love with him? All he ever did was tease her…give her a puzzle piece… make her laugh, help her open up, keep her warm, nearly kiss her lips, merely kiss her head, share with her his secrets, and inspire her with art. She couldn’t possibly…
But before she could think on it another second, she heard a faint sound coming from the bushes along the side of the mansion house.
“Psst…psst….is it safe tae come out?”
She and Corey turned to see Mr. MacKinnon’s face above the nose leaning up and over one of the hedges like a shielded streaker whose clothes had been stolen.
“I’m not sure,” Avi said, looking around to see if she could identify where Gracie had set up the picnic. “I think so…”
As he wandered out from behind the hedge, Corey seemed to think aloud, “He’s even better looking in person.”
“Good day. Ah’m…”
“Dane MacKinnon. I interviewed you a couple of months back. Remember?”
“Och, that’s right. Kin ah juist say…ye two look like twins.”
Avi had only rarely before detected within herself a predisposition to jealousy, but she should have expected it given Mr. MacKinnon’s proclivity to inspire dichotomously innate yet new feelings. Avi had every right to give place to that green-eyed monster. If twins, then Corey was the younger more enticing replica. And if attracted to Avi, then he must have been all the more drawn to Corey. Unless of course, his attraction to the elder went beyond physicality; something he had so honorably demonstrated the day Gluestick and her makeup went running in the rain. The thought of it slayed the beast within as she returned to her senses.
“Yes, well…looking like Avi’s twin comes with a hefty price tag. She looks that good without even trying. Maybe if I hadn’t spent eight hundred dollars a pop on my hair or a fortune on Dior, I could afford to help keep this place,” Corey said, forgetting that Avi hadn’t told him about selling the estate. “...Properly maintained,” she improvised. “The garden’s looking a little shaggy for my taste.”
“If ye think she looks good now, ye should see her when she snorts,” he laughed as Avi slapped at his abs. “Tis th’ cutest thing.”
“I didn’t know she snorts!”
“I don’t.”
“Aye, she does.”
“To be honest…I didn’t even know she knew how to laugh. Well done, Dane.”
A growingly loud array of overlapping conversations was their first warning that the other guests were quickly approaching. When they emerged from the tree line on their way to the archery stations, Mr. MacKinnon looked as if he was considering making a dash for the hedges.
“Dane, ye’re back,” said Bonnie.
“Aye, we juist got back. Josh dropped me off then took his family back out…tae see the Harry Potter stuff, ah think.”
“Well, ye’re juist in time! We’re off tae archery, ‘n’ need an instructor,” she said as she grabbed his arm and led the group as well as a visibly reluctant Mr. MacKinnon away from Avi.
When they were out of earshot, Corey said, “Now I see why you don’t want her to know…she’d kill ya.”
“He wouldn’t let her.” Avi thought with a titter.
Hesitantly, Ben emerged from the house looking like a lost time traveler.
“Oww!!” Corey hollered before whistling loud enough for those on the other side of the English Channel to hear. “Lookin’ sexy, babe! I’m gonna go kiss him, and then I’m gonna go get changed and find Gracie. And if I were you…I’d go shoot some arrows.”
Had she not been pressed to sell, Avi would have hired Mr. MacKinnon in a heartbeat. He was a gifted archer and an even better teacher; like the nearly-ideal combination of an older, more-clothed cupid mixed with a younger, more-clothed Socrates. And the combination was only nearly ideal rather than completely idealbecause she’d have liked to see him in their amount of clothing. Arrow after arrow…bullseye after bullseye…Mr. MacKinnon could not miss, and with every syllable of instruction, his pupils improved dramatically.
Avi and Bonnie were stationed at opposite ends of the field, aiming at different archery targets but the very same Scottish heart. While his ex’s arrows routinely found the yellow, red, and blue rings, Avi was pleased with herself whenever one stuck into the ground. However, most of the time they fell harmlessly at her feet whenever she pulled back the bowstring.
“Dane!” Bonnie called out. “Ah need some help over ‘ere!”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s doing just fine…just as good as Thomas and twice as well as Jack.” Avi thought, knowing full well what her nemesis was playing at.
“Ye already know whit ah’m gonna say, Bonnie. Ah tell ye every time we go huntin’: ye’ve got tae…”
“...got tae stop holding mah breath…ah know ‘n’ ah did, bit ah’m still nae hittin’ the’ bullseye.”
“A’right…take a shot…let me watch.”
Bonnie drew and fired.
“Aye, ye’re nae aimin’ long enough. Dinnae rush it. Draw ‘n’ hold fur eight…mibbie ten seconds ”afore releasing.”
With her new pro-tip, the towering Scottish warrior drew, breathed, counted, and released her arrow straight into the center of the bullseye. She jumped up and down in elation before throwing both arms around her unenthusiastic instructor.
“Mr. MacKinnon!” Avi shouted as he snuck out of Bonnie’s hold to see what Avi needed. “What am I doing wrong?”
He began the fifty-yard trek across the field, and when he was close enough for her to see, he mouthed the words Thank ye.
“Aye, Ms. Hawthorne, whit can ah dae for ye?”
“I’m not sure. Help…I guess.”
“A’right. Take a shot.”
As Avi pulled back, he said, “Stop. Let’s start with yer posture.”
Before she could even turn around to receive further instruction, she felt the caress of his balmy breath on the nape of her neck, and her blink lasted considerably longer than usual. He held her hands to guide them to the proper place on the bow and pressed in cozily against her back. It was like riding Big Winnie all over again.
“Feet: shoulder length apart…bring that front foot in a wee bit..turn it aboot forty-five degrees, stand up nice ‘n’ tall…well…at least as tall as ye can muster.”
“Shut up,” she said playfully but fully in focus.
“A’right, now…relax…breathe…make sure yer chins restin’ on that shoulder…now draw…aim… ‘n’ whin ye’re ready…release, bit dinnae move a muscle after ye let go.”
She inhaled. She exhaled. And then she shot. She would have immediately moved to celebrate after seeing her arrow penetrate the black of the outer ring, but Mr. MacKinnon held her in place, refusing to let her go.
“Ahh! I can’t believe it! I did it!”
After a few fleeting moments in his powerful arms, he released her only for her to spin around and hold him with hers.
“Thank you!”
“Ye’re very welcome, Ms. Hawthorne.”
“Dane! Oh, Dane!” they heard Bonnie yelling.
He let go of Avi and yet again obligingly saw to his pandering ex.
“Aye, Bonnie? Whit is it?”
“Can ye come ‘ere? Ah overheard ye sayin’ somethin’ aboot the foot ‘n’ chin, ‘n’ ah wanted tae know whit t’was!”
“Keep yer front foot at forty-five degrees ‘n yer chin over yer front shoulder!”
“Whit?”
“Ah said…yer front foot needs tae be at forty-five degrees ‘n’ yer chin; over yer shoulder!!!”
“Whit!? Ah cannae hear ye…‘tis too far!”
“Och…fur heaven’s sake,” he said as he stormed off towards the furthest archery station.
When he got there, Avi watched as Bonnie rejected his instruction and emphatically requested that he show her the same way he’d shown Avi. Mr. MacKinnon tried to teach her from a distance, void of any physical contact, but her persistence was draining, and he eventually surrendered.
Avi’s blood was boiling over as she nocked the next arrow. All her training on posture and breathing went completely out the window. She was relying solely on the raging strength of a woman’s intrasexual selection as she pulled the bowstring back to its near-breaking point. Avi wasn’t even focusing on the target. It was but a blurry fleck in her peripherals as she stared over her front shoulder at Bonnie’s horridly trampy advances.
With his help, Bonnie blasted another bolt through the center and into the straw boss. Once more that frothy tart threw her arms around him and pressed those irritatingly perfect and probably expensive breasts up against his chiseled chest. Inflamed, Avi fired a frozen rope that put Bonnie’s shot to shame…at least from the perspective of power. Like lightning, it sped well beyond the bullseye and deep into the woods behind it.
“Dang, Avi!” Jack exclaimed. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
“Where did that come from?” Jada laughed in shock.
“I don’t know,” Avi answered with her eyes still fixed on Bonnie. “But I better go find that arrow before I…lose it.”
Avi, not thinking about the dangers of wandering onto a live archery range, stormed across the field with furious passion.
As soon as Mr. MacKinnon saw, he yelled, “Everyone, hold yer fire, ‘n’ drop yer arrows!” before he took off after her.
She was somewhat searching but mostly pacing, trying to extinguish the blue flames of her burning.
“Ye a’right?” he asked when he caught up to her.
Overflowing like a flash flood of driven desire, Avi whirled around dead set on staking sole claim to his lips and body, but before she could tackle him to the ground and keep him pinned supine with an otherworldly kiss, she noticed Mick following behind him.
“Yeah, I’m fine…just looking for my arrow.”
“You shot it all the way back here?” Mick asked, thoroughly impressed.
“Maybe…or…maybe a little further back.”
“That’d be one heck o’ a shot, Ms. Hawthorne. We’ll help ye find it…couldn’t o’ gone too far.”
She combed through the clover as the men hurried up the side of a hill for a higher perspective.
“See anything?” she asked, as a strange and solemn silence crept out from their mouths and frozen dispositions. “Anything?” she asked again. “What? What is it?”
When neither man addressed or even acknowledged her questions, she decided to scale the mound and see the sight that had stolen their attention. When she could see over the hill”s pinnacle, Avi absorbed the grim scene and shared in their sustained solemn silence before a heavy Scottish accent reintroduced them to sound.
“That was one heck o’ a shot,” said a very wide-eyed Mr. MacKinnon.