by K E O'Connor
“I’ll look forward to seeing you throw,” I called after Nick as he walked away. I wasn’t certain Nick would be a match for Archer in the welly throwing, but it would be entertaining to watch them lock horns.
I closed the welly contest desk and walked to the raffle table, where Jen had just started selling tickets. It was a popular raffle this year, with lots of generously donated gifts from local businesses. They ranged from bottles of alcohol and boxes of chocolates, through to a year’s free pass to Tintagel Castle and a long weekend break in a four-star hotel in Devon.
Jen gave me a harassed looking smile as she fought off the eager raffle ticket buyers. I left her to it, checking the rest of the stallholders and making sure everybody was enjoying themselves.
I made a round of coffee and took them to Archer’s team. Buzzard was on the roof, scanning the area with his enormous binoculars when I arrived. He barely paused from his scrutiny as he took the coffee.
“Anything good to see out there?” I shielded my eyes from the slowly lowering sun. Its rays had held true and bathed Zee Town in a pale, golden glow.
“All’s clear,” he said, his tone crisp and controlled.
“Let’s hope you have nothing to do for the rest of the event,” I said.
Buzzard shot me a sideways glance. “I am doing something. I’m covering your butt.”
I grinned. “I meant that you don’t spot the rabid zombie charging toward the town hall, intent on massacring the attendees.”
Buzzard raised an eyebrow. “It would liven things up if that happened. I’ll be sure to give you a warning shout if it does. Thanks for the coffee.”
I headed down the stairs, handing over the remaining coffees to Magpie and Rhino, who appeared as efficient as Buzzard, on high alert, positions tense, not missing a thing as their gazes swept around.
Returning to the main event, I got our wonderful local band, The Twisted Zombies, to turn the volume down and end their song. I liked to play big top circus music when the welly throwing was going on. The band accompanied it with an appropriate drum roll every time somebody hurled a spectacular welly.
I flicked the music on, and as the fanfare of circus music filled the room, people gathered around. The tourists who were visiting for the first time soon picked up something significant was about to happen and joined in with everybody else.
I stood in front of the microphone on the stage where the band played. “Welcome everybody to our annual Spring Fling. As you can see, we’re doing things a little differently today. A new venue means a new challenge for our intrepid welly throwers.”
Laughter went around the room, and a few people cheered.
“We’re starting the competition with our novelty welly throw. Our three impartial judges will mark each throw out of ten.” I gestured over to Julia Browser, Dominic Goldberg, a local artist, and Zara, who sat at one side of the bowling green. “The person with the highest score for their novelty throw will win a prize, with second and third place prizes also available. Let the welly throwing begin!”
The crowd cheered as a dozen intrepid welly throwers walked up to take their positions. Dee Holland, Selina’s receptionist at the clinic, did a fantastic job of pirouetting before launching her welly. She was followed by Drew Mahoney from the post office, who attempted several comedic forward rolls before launching from the floor and throwing the welly, almost knocking Julia out as the boot smacked her in the head. Drew scored a respectable twenty-one for that effort, with the highest score coming from Julia, who rubbed the side of her head and grinned as she held up her score card.
The winner was Danny Wade, who worked at the golf supply store. He not only managed three backflips while holding a welly, but his aim was spot on, and he nearly threw the welly as far as Archer. Danny got top marks. I was happy to award him his prize and a trophy.
Next came the contest for the number of welly rotations in the air, impressively won by Bill Guthrie. He rotated his welly eight times before it landed.
The part of the contest everybody had been waiting for, the longest throw, began. The atmosphere changed as the more serious competitors arrived. Danny had a go, managing a respectable distance along the bowling green. Bill also tried for longest throw, but he must have used his energy on getting the number of rotations. His welly spun off into the crowd. He was disqualified with much laughing and booing. Several zombies also had a go. None of them were particularly strong and their throws fell short, but their efforts were heartily applauded.
It got interesting when Archer arrived. The crowd parted as he walked through, his stride arrogant and his posture confident.
He winked at me as he picked up a welly. “Ready to be impressed?”
“It’s not me you need to impress.” I pointed at the judges.
“I always want to impress a beautiful woman.” Archer took several steps back, rolled his shoulders a couple of times and let the welly fly. It was a perfect throw, missing the far wall by inches.
The crowd applauded. Archer gave a bow before walking away. Despite his arrogance, I was secretly pleased he was in the lead. If it weren’t for him, the Spring Fling wouldn’t be going ahead. He deserved to win this competition.
The longest throw contestants were almost finished when Nick arrived. “I’m not too late, am I?”
“Perfect timing,” I said. “You’re up next.”
Nick tested a couple of the wellies, weighing them in his hand, his lips pursed as he concentrated on finding the perfect welly.
I tried hard not to laugh at how seriously he was taking this.
Finally, he held out two wellies to Stool, who sniffed each one, before favoring the left one.
“This one it is.” Nick held up the welly in his left hand. He stretched out his neck, focused on the wall, and hurled the welly. It was a great throw, and after it had been measured, it was the same distance as Archer’s.
“We have a tie,” I called out.
The crowd cheered. They loved nothing more than a welly throwing stand-off.
I brought back the top six longest throwers to throw again and narrow the competition to the final three. Nick and Archer went through, and I eliminated three more contestants, until Archer, Nick, and Danny were left.
“Do you want to concede defeat now?” Archer asked, his gaze on Nick.
“I’m happy to go up against you,” Nick said.
“You never know,” Danny said cheerfully, “I might beat you both.”
Archer and Nick glanced at him and shook their heads in unison.
Danny laughed and held up his hands. “Fair enough, I know when I’m beaten. I’m more than happy with third place.” He looked at me. “Cassie, it’s between the two of them. It’s getting a bit tense over here.”
I took a deep breath, watching Nick and Archer glaring at each other, the testosterone thick in the air. Men and their competitive streaks. It was kind of exciting.
The crowd was silent as I picked up the microphone and cut the big top music. This was a serious competition. “In the case of a tie, the final contestants have three throws each. The average length of these throws are calculated, and the individual with the overall longest throw wins first place.” I turned to Archer and Nick, their stern expressions focused on me. “Gentlemen, when you’re ready, select your wellies.”
They took their time looking over the wellies, and the crowd murmured and shuffled as they waited.
“You’ll each throw in turn. I’ll toss a coin to see who goes first.” I extracted a coin from my purse and flicked it into the air. I looked at them both. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads,” Archer said swiftly.
Nick shrugged. “Fine, tails.”
“It’s heads,” I said, looking at the coin. “Archer, do you want to throw first or second?”
“First for me, every time,” Archer said. “See if you can beat this, Morton.” He hurled the welly across the bowling green. It didn’t quite hit the wall, but it wasn’t far off.
/> Nick stuck with the welly he’d previously used and took his first throw. It was slightly shorter than Archer’s, but only by an inch or two.
They repeated the exercise again. This time, Nick beat Archer. It all rested on the final throw.
“Archer, please take your final throw.” I was excited by how close the competition was and how much I was enjoying watching two attractive men show off.
Archer grinned at me and used the technique he’d shown me the other night, twisting his hips as he threw. His aim was perfect. The welly hit the far side wall and slid down it.
The crowd cheered. It seemed obvious that Archer was the winner.
“Nick, now it’s your turn. Please take your final throw,” I said. Nick would need to match Archer’s throw to stand a chance of winning.
Nick took a deep breath. He stepped back and swung his arms in a wide arc, letting loose the welly in his hand.
The crowd watched as the welly pivoted through the air, spinning several times as it made its descent. It hit the wall with a thud and slid down, landing on top of Archer’s boot.
Nick looked as shocked as I felt that he’d thrown the welly so far. If the wall hadn’t stopped his boot, he’d most likely have beaten Archer.
The crowd gave a roar of delight and clapped loudly.
Archer slapped Nick on the back. “It’s a close contest. That’s quite an arm you’ve got there.”
As one of the judges approached the welly boots to make the final calculations, Stool limped from the side of the bowling green.
I watched as he sniffed the welly boots.
“What’s your dog up to?” Archer’s gaze narrowed.
Nick’s eyebrows rose. “I can never tell you. He limps to his own doggy beat. Although, when he gets that look on his face...”
Stool looked around, grabbed both wellies in his mouth, and dashed out the side door.
Chapter 22
People in the crowd laughed. Soon, everyone was laughing and pointing in the direction Stool had disappeared with the stolen wellies.
Nick closed his eyes and shook his head. “That dog.”
Archer roared with laughter and slapped Nick on the back again. “I hope you trained him to do that. That’s an awesome tactic to ensure victory.”
Nick opened his eyes and smiled. “Trust me, I can’t train Stool to do anything he doesn’t want to.”
I grinned at them both and decided to award joint first place. I split the prize money between them, but there was only one trophy.
“Archer Rhinehart and Nick Morton are this year’s welly throwing competition winners,” I said to the crowd. “They’ll be sharing this year’s trophy and both names will be carved into it.” I handed them the trophy, and they held it aloft over their heads as I took a few photographs.
It was the perfect conclusion to a great event. After another hour of people mingling, chatting, and sampling the delights from the stallholders, the crowd slowly dispersed.
And I began the long, thankless task of cleaning up. It had been a great event. Everyone had fun, and best of all, no rabid zombie showed up. I called that the biggest win of the day.
***
Three hours later, helped by Jen and Zara, I’d filled a dozen black sacks with trash. Laura had been by to collect the last of the plates and leftover food—not that there was much left. Everyone had enjoyed her treats.
There was a single plate of muffins left, which I decided to take home for myself. It would be nice to have something sweet after such a busy afternoon, and I’d not had a chance for lunch.
I wrapped up the muffins and placed them by my purse.
Jen finished sweeping away the last of the mess as I folded the final table.
“How do you think the event went?” she asked.
“I’ve not tallied the money, but I don’t think we’ve been badly impacted by having the event inside,” I said.
“It was busy,” Jen said. “Best of all, no sign of the rabid zombie. We could have had it outside after all.”
“Well, as Nick kept reminding me, better to be safe.”
Jen opened her mouth in mock surprise. “You’re siding with Nick Morton over me? I never thought I’d see the day.”
I grinned and flapped a duster in her direction. “Not all of his ideas are ridiculous. Let’s get the last of this trash tidied away so we can go home.”
“Not me,” Jen said with a dramatic sigh. “I’m volunteering at the shelter tonight.”
“Take these muffins to keep you going.” I pointed to the ones I’d intended to take home. Jen needed them more than I did.
“No thanks.” Jen patted her stomach. “I don’t think I’ll eat for the rest of the week. I’ve had so much cake.” She carried her broom to the closet and stashed it inside.
Archer strolled into the room, his trophy in one hand as he walked toward me. “I didn’t get my victor’s reward.”
“You got your money and the trophy by the looks of it,” I said.
“Yes, I’m going to have it for the first six months. Morton will to have it for the rest of the year,” Archer said. “I’m hoping he’ll forget about it, then I can have bragging rights over winning the competition all to myself. I wouldn’t mind keeping the winning welly if it’s still around.”
“It’s not. We never found out what Stool did with the wellies he stole.”
Archer quirked an eyebrow at me. “I’m still waiting.”
“For what?” My heart sped up at the intensity in Archer’s gaze.
“For my reward,” Archer said. “I thought when you won a competition as important as this, beautiful women threw themselves at you.”
“Mrs. Bevis from the shelter was interested in having a chat with you.” The elderly shelter volunteer had almost fainted at the sight of Archer’s bulging muscles.
“She wasn’t who I had in mind.” Archer closed the gap between us. “How about it?”
I gulped, wondering where all the oxygen in the room had gone. “How about what?”
“You give me my reward?”
“What would you like?”
Archer grinned and leaned down toward me, his gaze on my mouth.
Stool charged into the room, limp running toward me, a welly in his mouth and an angry glint in his eyes.
Archer gave a startled laugh and stepped away. “Hey! Look! Is that my winning welly?”
A trickle of relief ran through me at the welcome distraction as Stool dropped the welly at my feet and gazed at me.
He turned his attention to Archer, and for a second, a serious look crossed Stool’s face as if he disapproved of what I’d been about to do with Archer. Not that I’d even decided to kiss him, it was just that when I was around him, I had trouble thinking clearly.
I shook my head as my senses returned. “You’re presenting me with stolen goods,” I said to Stool. “You could be arrested for that.”
Stool gave a happy sounding bark before limping away.
“I need to get out of here and have a debrief from my team.” Archer scooped up the slightly chewed welly. “Take care of yourself, Cassie March. Be seeing you.” He strode away without a backward glance.
I watched him go, uncertain as to how I felt about the fact Archer had almost kissed me. I wasn’t woman enough for Archer, but it still felt good to be wanted.
Jen dashed to my side and grabbed my arm. “Did my eyes deceive me? Was Archer Rhinehart making a move on you?”
“I think so,” I spluttered out. “I have to remind myself that he’s hot but dangerous.”
“You could get over the dangerous part,” Jen said a little breathlessly. “He likes you.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “He might like the challenge. Archer would get bored if he got what he wanted from me.”
“Maybe he wants you as his girlfriend, have you fall in love with him and have loads of babies. Can you imagine how beautiful your babies would be?”
I held a hand up. “You’re getting way ahead of
yourself. We haven’t even been on a date. You already have us married off and me with a dozen children.”
“Archer’s incredible to look at,” Jen said. “Those muscles are something else.”
“You date him if you think he’s so amazing.”
Jen wrinkled her nose. “I’m with Alex. Besides, he’s—”
“Hot but dangerous?” I offered.
“Yes, he is that,” Jen said. “My vision blurs when I look at him. It’s like I want to touch him to see if he’s real, but know that if I do, I’ll catch fire.”
“Exactly my point. So, let’s stick to cleaning the room and get out of here before any of us do something we’ll regret.”
Jen grinned. “Wow! Archer Rhinehart has the hots for you. Do you think Nick will be jealous?”
“No! Stop thinking every guy likes me.”
“They don’t. Just two hot, difficult ones do.” Jen laughed. “You certainly attract an interesting type of guy.”
I looked at Stool, who sat at the side of the bowling green, pulling apart another welly. He didn’t seem to think all that much of Archer. Animals were always good judges of character. Could he sense Archer’s intentions toward me were less than pure?
I groaned. Nope, I wasn’t going there. Not with Archer and not with Nick. Hot guys or not, I wasn’t interested. Much.
Chapter 23
The town hall was clean, the lights switched off, and everything secured as I walked home with Jen, the plate of muffins in one hand.
We said our goodbyes and split up as she headed to get the shelter sorted for the evening.
As I turned the corner, I walked past Nancy Atherton’s house.
She hadn’t been at the event, which was unusual. She usually came along to everything, even if it was only for a few minutes to make her scary presence felt as one of the leading business women in Zee Town.
Despite her scary aura, I admired her business acumen. She was a wealthy woman. Nancy not only owned most of the warehouses in town, she also rented out properties to residents and tourists. But she was spiky and always made my top lip sweat whenever we did business.
