“Step right up, folks,” a teenaged boy called as they passed his booth. “You need to play to win because winning is what it’s all about.”

Surprising Sarah, Bodie walked over to see what the boy’s game involved.

“Buy a ticket for a chance to win the lady a stuffed Christmas toy.”

The booth was a throwing game. The contestant threw a red ping-pong-sized glowing ball into a small opening on a painted reindeer face. The opening appeared barely large enough for the ball to fit through.

“You want a stuffed Christmas toy?”

Not that she doubted Bodie’s abilities, but the hole was tiny. Sarah gave Bodie a skeptical look. “You think you can win?”

He glanced back at the game board, then nodded.

Cutting her gaze to the teenager, she asked, “How many chances does he get?”

“Each ticket buys three chances to win.”

“Three chances? How many does he have to get to win?”

“Just one.” The boy walked over and put the ball through the opening, showing that it did fit—with no margin of error. “Ready to try your hand?”

Pulling out some cash from his front pocket, Bodie paid the boy who then handed him three glowing balls.

Bodie cupped the balls in his hands, examining each one for about a millisecond before choosing one and handing the other two to Sarah. “You want to go first?”

She looked at him in question. “What?”

“Go ahead.” He gestured for her to throw.

“No sports, remember?” she reminded, knowing her throws would be a waste of his money.

“Me, either, remember? It’s for fun, right?”

“Right.” She eyed the board, aimed the best she could, then underhand tossed the ball toward the deer’s missing nose. The glowing ball bounced off the board and onto the ground.

“Whoops,” the teen said. “Try again.”

Sarah looked to Bodie to see if he minded her wasting a second one of his chances. He nodded for her to go ahead. She aimed and this time tried throwing overhanded. The ball bounced off the board again and was further away from the opening than the first time.

She laughed and turned to Bodie. “Okay, that was all kinds of ugly. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Taking off his jacket and handing it to Sarah, along with Harry’s leash, Bodie eyed the opening with such a serious expression he seemed to be mentally calculating thrust velocity and wind dynamics as he took aim, flicked his wrist just so, and threw the ball toward the deer’s face.

The ball went straight into the nose opening.

“You got it!” Sarah exclaimed, bouncing with excitement and giving him a congratulatory hug. Harry awarded him with a single bark, too.

“Hey, dude. You win,” the teen said, impressed.

“I thought you said you didn’t play sports,” Sarah teased as she handed his coat back.

Bodie grinned. “By choice—not from a lack of skill.”