It was mere inches from me, mere seconds from poking out my eyes. As I stared, the hand holding the massive cluster pulled back, replacing itself with Archer’s face.
“Thought you were a grown adult now.” The words and tone were mocking.
“I am,” I insisted, surging to my feet. “But clearly, I’m the only one.”
His blue eyes flashed. “I’m not the one who fell on my behind when the gun went off.”
I stepped forward, jabbing my finger into his chest. “Youcould have told me you were firing.”
“Could have,” he allowed, words rumbly and low because I was crowding his personal space.
He wasn’t even wearing a coat. Why the hell was the air around him so warm?
Irritation zapped through me, making my hands ball at my sides. “I can’t believe I came out here because y?—”
“Well, look at that.” Paul interrupted before I could make an utter fool of myself. “She’s a beaut. It’s perfect for tomorrow night’s raising.”
I forced my attention to the large bundle, noting that it was beautiful in shape and color. But it was hard to concentrate because I could feel Archer’s attention. Unable to resist, I peeked up to see that,yes, he was staring with the curiosity of an unanswered question in those baby blues.
Quickly, I averted my attention. “See, not much to getting it down,” I said to Brett.
He nodded. “Archer makes it look easy.”
“Well, he’s been doing it practically his whole life.” Paul confirmed.
“We should go,” Archer said. “The bonfire will be starting soon.”
“Of course.” Paul agreed, but Brett hesitated, looking back at the oak.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, turning fully to face him.
“Was hoping to get a look at the initials carved in the tree,” he said.
I pulled my phone from the pocket of my coat and switched on the flashlight. “This way.”
“We need to head back,” Archer said, impatience deepening his voice.
“It will only take a minute,” I chided. “We’ll meet you at the truck.”
Even in the dark, I could see his face screw up. He clearly was used to people doing what they were told. But I wasn’t most people, and squeezing into the too-small cab of that truck with him seemed like torture right about now.
I started forward, and Brett fell into step behind me. As we walked, our shoulders bumped, and the flashlight created a halo on the ground in front of us.
“Have you not been out here before?” I asked as we walked around the back of the tree.
“Once, a few years ago. But I didn’t look for the initials.”
“They’re right around here,” I said, stepping close to the massive trunk and shining the light onto the rough bark. After a moment of searching, the light caught on a patch that was free of bark, and right in the center was the carving. “Ah, here,” I said, steadying the light and stepping closer.
It had been a long time since I’d seen them, but they looked about the way I remembered. Maybe a little smaller in reality versus my memory, but judging by how important this legend was to our town, that wasn’t surprising.
Of course, I was bigger now too. No longer a starry-eyed teen.
“H and B,” Brett murmured, brushing against me as he leaned in and laid a finger on the carving in the wood. “I guess it really is true.”
“Part of Winterbury’s history.” I confirmed.
Brett tipped his chin to gaze into the branches above that dripped with mistletoe. “I’ve heard the story a hundred times,” he said. “But it’s a little different to see it.” Pulling his chin down, he sought me. “You know?”
