The Story of My Heart
much time did he? He hasn’t been in the village five minutes.”  She felt jealous and she hadn’t even spoken to him!
    “That’s what these carnival people are like, Meg. All this lot want is a quick shag. They’re not as dependable as your John.”
    “Boring, you mean” said Rhian.
    “No” snapped Beth, “dependable. Which reminds me, when exactly will he be back? Is he going to do anything to help with this wedding or not? ‘Cause if I have to hear your mother complain one more time about this and that I’m going to scream.”
    “Dependable?” smirked Rhian, “you were saying?
      “Oh shut up,” snapped Beth. “You’re just jealous.”
    “Yeah, that’s exactly what I am. Jealous,” replied Rhian quickly. “Why should I be jealous? I’m getting out of this village soon.  You two will still be here in twenty year’s time wondering what exotic place I’m traveling to next.”
    “Oh pardon me, Your Ladyship,” said Beth making a mock curtsy. “Bet you don’t even make it out of the country.”
    “Oh come on,” Megan said, breaking up the pair, “let’s go and see if there’s anything left we haven’t ridden or lost our money on.”

    The shooting range had a huge selection of gifts.  Guns weren’t really Megan’s choice. John tried to teach her how to handle one—mainly for her own protection.  The company he worked for offered him a new position but it would mean that at some point he’d have to be away for weeks at a time. He wanted to know she would be safe and could defend herself if there was ever an intruder in the house after they were married.  Megan often reminded him that they lived in the sticks and burglars would most likely target the posh houses down the road rather than rob any on their street.  Megan took the rifle and pointed at the row of ducks making their way across the target and fired, but the jolt of the shot caught her off balance and sent her flying two steps back and right into her mysterious stranger’s arms.
    “You need to gently squeeze the trigger,” he said softly.  He placed his arms around her, wrapping his fingers around hers and took aim. “Ready?” he asked, then took the shot.  Not the best delivery into the target, but better than her effort.
    “Thanks, I think I can handle it now,” Megan said, pulling out of his arms. She took aim again but could feel him behind her, his breath so close that she felt it on her neck. Before she took the shot, she turned back to him. “Here,” she said, handing him the rifle. “You take the last shot for me.”
    He took the rifle and aimed.
    “Good luck,” Megan told him, smiling.
    And while he concentrated on hitting the target, Megan slipped away into the crowd and out of the carnival.
    He hit the target!  Grinning, he turned to Megan. “There you go, that’s how to take the shot,” he said. She was gone!   He turned back to the stall holder. “Where did she go?”
    The stall holder laughed. “Dunno Dave. You probably scared her off!”
    “Nah,” said Dave, “I don’t think so.” He looked into the crowds. “Not to worry. I’m sure I’ll catch up with her again.

    CHAPTER THREE

    The following day, Dave stopped outside the village post office and looked at his reflection in the window.  He smoothed out his blue shirt and took a breath. Pushing the door to the post office open, he stepped inside and stood in the queue.
    Megan wasn’t looking when it came to his turn to be served. 
    “You know, it’s not polite to leave someone who wants to help you,” he said from behind the protective glass.
    Megan looked up and saw Dave’s face smiling back at her. “Well I didn’t need your help.”
    “You wanted to win, didn’t you?”
    “Wouldn’t winning cut into your profits?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “Perhaps” he said smiling. He leaned closer into the counter, “but then, I don’t own the carnival.”
    “Is there something I can help you with?” asked

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