CHAPTER10
She spun to face him, lowering her bow. He saw the look of devastation on her face. Her eyes were red, which suggested she’d been crying.
“The last time I was here, it was raining,” he said softly. “And still it was magic. This has long been my favorite place here.”
She’d been the woman he’d helped that night.
“I will leave.” She began to walk to where her arrows were lodged in the target.
“Please stay. I did not mean to disturb you, Ivy… Miss Birdwhistle,” he added.Why do you look like your soul has been crushed?
“This is your home, not mine,” she said in that slow, concise way she had. Her actions, however, told him of the turbulence inside her. She was wrenching the arrows free. She then stomped back to gather her things.
“If I may make a suggestion?” Bram said, moving to where she was jamming her arrows back in their quiver.
“About what?” Her gray eyes were still misty with tears, and he felt a deep ache inside him for her suffering.
“I noticed that your bow arm’s shoulder was shrugging upward. You need to keep the elbow on your bow arm pointed outward, not downward, and keep your arm slightly bent.”
Her eyes narrowed. The devastation was easing.
“Try it.”
She looked at him for a few more seconds, then took out an arrow and her bow. Bram stood behind her and watched.
“Excellent. Now release the arrow.” She did, and it hit the center of the target.
“Not that you need my help, as you were excellent earlier. But it was just a little something I noticed you doing.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome.”
She started to repack her bow and arrows. Her eyes went to his.
“Ivy.” He cupped her damp cheek. “Why were you crying?”
“Many reasons,” she whispered. “But they are my problems, not yours, and you should not be calling me Ivy.”
Bram let his eyes roam her features. She was beautiful, she just hid it well, and now he likely knew the reason why.
“But we are the best archers in Nightingale Hall, so surely we can be on first-name terms.”
She did not return his smile, but nor did she back away from him.
He did not often willingly give comfort, but he wanted to with her.
“I’m sorry something upset you.”
“Life is full of many things that upset us, Mr. Nightingale.”
“Bram,” he said.
“I can’t call you Bram.” She didn’t move back as he moved closer. The woman was mesmerizing.
“Out here you could.” He touched her cheek. “Try it.”
Her smile was small but a smile.
