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Authors: Cora Seton
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anything.
This time the arrow made it three-fourths of the way to the target, but veered off to the left.
“You’re pushing the arrow. Keep your fingers at your chin and just release.”
Bella spun around to glare at Evan. He was giving her archery tips?
He met her gaze coolly. “You’re not going to hit the target anyway. Might as well learn something.”
Hmmm—Mr. Moneybuns liked to show off his knowledge and couldn’t stand to see someone doing something wrong. She filed that information away for later use. She pulled a third arrow from the quiver and raised the bow again. This time she pretended she was in her operating room at home, focused solely on the task at hand, allowing all distractions to slide away. She was alone with the target, the bow as much a part of her arm as her scalpel usually was. She raised it another inch, nocked the arrow and pulled it back until her fingers rested just below her ear, and let go, just like Evan said.
The arrow sailed straight through the air and hit the target.
“That’s one,” the man keeping score said.
Bella let out a whoop and nearly danced with excitement. She did it—she got one!
“I’m still beating you,” Evan said.
“Better hold on tight, Moneybuns,” she said. “I’m catching up!”
Confident now, she selected a fourth arrow and let it loose before Evan could say a word. It hit the target, too.
As she picked a fifth arrow, however, Evan evidently decided not to take any chances.
“Archery is one of those sports women think they can excel at, but they never really match up to the strength and accuracy of men,” he said, coming closer. “Women suck at depth perception, and archery, really, is all about depth perception.”
She shook her head. He’d have to do better than that if he wanted to throw her off. She liked nothing better than proving arrogant men wrong. After all, her brother told her for years women made lousy vets and she’d shown him. She outscored him in every class and every test on her way to becoming a vet. Of course, he still lorded it over her that he cared for livestock while she stuck with pets, but that had nothing to do with strength, accuracy…or depth perception, come to think of it. She raised her bow and got ready to release the arrow.
“The only thing women don’t suck at,” Evan said, drawing nearer and dropping his voice. “Is sucking…”
Bella jerked just as the arrow left her fingers and she knew instantly it would miss. She closed her eyes and lowered her bow in frustration, but when she heard a distinct thwap , she opened them again.
“Three,” the scorekeeper said and she blinked in amazement. Her arrow dangled from the very bottom of the target, but its head was definitely stuck in the ticking. She’d hit it after all.
With another whoop, Bella did dance this time. “Three—I got three!” she crowed at Evan.
“I got four,” he said. “Give it up, Bumpkin.”
“Not on your life, Moneybuns! I’m just getting started.” She grabbed her daypack and her map and darted off to a well-marked gap in the trees on the other side of the meadow.
“Hey, wait up!” Paul the cameraman yelled after her, but she didn’t miss a stride. Sure, she was losing. Sure, they had nine more contests to go. She didn’t care. She’d won three points when by all accounts she should have scored zero.
She was still in the running.
* * * * *
Evan picked up his daypack and map and followed more slowly behind Bella, his crew trailing behind him. How had he let her get three points? Hell, she wouldn’t have scored at all if he hadn’t yelled out those instructions. Was he insane? Or had she hypnotized him with her long legs and incredibly curvy curves. That t-shirt had been distracting enough back at the starting line. Now she’d exerted herself for a few hours, it clung to her damply, and he struggled to keep the reaction in his groin from embarrassing him on national television. It wasn’t just her
This time the arrow made it three-fourths of the way to the target, but veered off to the left.
“You’re pushing the arrow. Keep your fingers at your chin and just release.”
Bella spun around to glare at Evan. He was giving her archery tips?
He met her gaze coolly. “You’re not going to hit the target anyway. Might as well learn something.”
Hmmm—Mr. Moneybuns liked to show off his knowledge and couldn’t stand to see someone doing something wrong. She filed that information away for later use. She pulled a third arrow from the quiver and raised the bow again. This time she pretended she was in her operating room at home, focused solely on the task at hand, allowing all distractions to slide away. She was alone with the target, the bow as much a part of her arm as her scalpel usually was. She raised it another inch, nocked the arrow and pulled it back until her fingers rested just below her ear, and let go, just like Evan said.
The arrow sailed straight through the air and hit the target.
“That’s one,” the man keeping score said.
Bella let out a whoop and nearly danced with excitement. She did it—she got one!
“I’m still beating you,” Evan said.
“Better hold on tight, Moneybuns,” she said. “I’m catching up!”
Confident now, she selected a fourth arrow and let it loose before Evan could say a word. It hit the target, too.
As she picked a fifth arrow, however, Evan evidently decided not to take any chances.
“Archery is one of those sports women think they can excel at, but they never really match up to the strength and accuracy of men,” he said, coming closer. “Women suck at depth perception, and archery, really, is all about depth perception.”
She shook her head. He’d have to do better than that if he wanted to throw her off. She liked nothing better than proving arrogant men wrong. After all, her brother told her for years women made lousy vets and she’d shown him. She outscored him in every class and every test on her way to becoming a vet. Of course, he still lorded it over her that he cared for livestock while she stuck with pets, but that had nothing to do with strength, accuracy…or depth perception, come to think of it. She raised her bow and got ready to release the arrow.
“The only thing women don’t suck at,” Evan said, drawing nearer and dropping his voice. “Is sucking…”
Bella jerked just as the arrow left her fingers and she knew instantly it would miss. She closed her eyes and lowered her bow in frustration, but when she heard a distinct thwap , she opened them again.
“Three,” the scorekeeper said and she blinked in amazement. Her arrow dangled from the very bottom of the target, but its head was definitely stuck in the ticking. She’d hit it after all.
With another whoop, Bella did dance this time. “Three—I got three!” she crowed at Evan.
“I got four,” he said. “Give it up, Bumpkin.”
“Not on your life, Moneybuns! I’m just getting started.” She grabbed her daypack and her map and darted off to a well-marked gap in the trees on the other side of the meadow.
“Hey, wait up!” Paul the cameraman yelled after her, but she didn’t miss a stride. Sure, she was losing. Sure, they had nine more contests to go. She didn’t care. She’d won three points when by all accounts she should have scored zero.
She was still in the running.
* * * * *
Evan picked up his daypack and map and followed more slowly behind Bella, his crew trailing behind him. How had he let her get three points? Hell, she wouldn’t have scored at all if he hadn’t yelled out those instructions. Was he insane? Or had she hypnotized him with her long legs and incredibly curvy curves. That t-shirt had been distracting enough back at the starting line. Now she’d exerted herself for a few hours, it clung to her damply, and he struggled to keep the reaction in his groin from embarrassing him on national television. It wasn’t just her
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