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“Oh, these old things?” Chris said, modeling his footwear.

Maye stood with her hands on her hips. “Tell me you’re not wearing second-hand steel-toe boots to a three-legged race.”

“Can you believe they fit?” he said. “I think they give us an advantage.”

Their walk into the market entrance happened with less fanfare than the previous night. There was no regional high school band and no ceremony. There were, of course, selfies and hugs on their way to the race starting line.

“Hey, Chris! Good to see you again!” Rex said as he handed Chris an ankle tie for the race.

“Thanks, Rex. You think we have a chance?” Chris asked.

Rex placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “All you need is an ankle tie and a dream, my friend.”

Chris pumped a fist in the air as Rex continued distributing ties to the other participants.

“Aw, you made a friend!” Maye said, sounding more like a proud parent than she anticipated.

“I spent time out on the town today and met some friends,” he said. “I can’t stay cooped up in the inn all day.”

“Okay, folks,” Rex announced. “Everyone should have their ankle ties. Let’s go ahead and get those on. Everyone needs to be on three legs to participate. This year is simple and straightforward. You’re going to hop down to the Little Book Shop on Main, where Laura has a riddle for you to solve. The answer will reveal your next step on the race, etcetera, etcetera. Any questions?”

“Silly me,” Chris whispered to Maye, “I assumed we’d be racing straight down the street to a finish line.”

“Oh, sorry,” Maye said. “I should have mentioned there’s a bit of a scavenger hunt element. Don’t worry, the questions aren’t too hard.” She wrapped her arm around his waist, and he reached around her back and held onto her shoulder. “Let’s start with our inside leg. I think we can really pick up the pace if we hit a stride.”

“Oh we’re gonna fly,” Chris nodded.

As they stood there holding each other, waiting for the race to begin, Maye wanted to slow down time and stay in that moment longer. She fit perfectly up against him. Against his chest…under his shoulder—she noticed Rex out of the corner of her eye as he moved to the side of the starting line.

“Alright, racers, ready?” He announced. “Off we go in 3…2…1…Go!”

On Rex’s go, the crowd of tri-legged scavenger-hunt racers jolted across the starting line. Just as they discussed, Maye and Chris each took their first step with their inside leg, then their outside leg. They were close to clicking into a rhythm when Maye felt herself leaning off balance. Before she knew it, she was tumbling down and rolling as Chris attempted to avoid falling down on top of her. They ended up tangled on the ground as other racers navigated around them.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked from his position flat on the concrete.

Amazingly, Chris’s aerobatic routine kept Maye from being crushed by his body weight or stepped on by his boots. She seemed to be intact but caught Chris inspecting his ankle.

“Yeah, I think I’m fine,” she said. “Are you? Is your leg okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” he said as he attempted to stand up, but his ankle buckled when he tried to put any weight on it.

“Oh no!” Maye said as she rushed to help him.

Rex quickly slid under his other arm and helped them wobble over to a chair.

“Thanks, mate,” Chris said as he slunk down into a folding chair. “I think I just rolled my ankle or something. Doesn’t feel too serious.”

“Not too serious?” Maye chirped. “You can’t walk on it!”

“Hate to do this, my friend,” Rex said as he walked over to the registration table. “But you’ve been disqualified.” He drew a line through Team It’s Gonna Be Maye and Chris. “Honorably, of course,” he added.

“Well,” Chris turned to Maye, “I’m sorry I ruined this for us. I don’t want to completely blame the boots, but they probably didn’t help.”

“I think you should take the opportunity to blame the boots,” she patted his leg gently. “You sit here and I will be right back.”

May wove in and out of the busy market sidewalk and found one of the many warm cider donut stands. She ordered half a dozen and two warm apple ciders, then she rushed back before the donuts could cool off too much.

“Tada!” she said as she handed him a greasy brown paper bag. “If this can’t help you feel better, then nothing can.”