“But that final shot…” she said pitifully. What if,what if? It broke her heart, shattered it into a thousand pieces with the mere possibility that he might never rise to the surface again. Lord only knew what would happen if it became reality.
But Mr. Wilson was right. No one could beat a mermaid underwater, and with all that thrashing to pull Mr. Runington under, even if he had been hit, it couldn’t have been somewhere that caused immediate death like his heart. So he should be able to come back to her. She just had to wait.
She could not wait. “Kallias, please.”
And just like an answer to prayers, just like he could hear, there he was.
CHAPTER 93
“Kallias!” She was leaping in the water without thought.
He was moving slowly. Had he been hit? But then he sped up to get to her, so she barely had to swim more than ten feet. His arms were around her waist in a second, colliding with her, spinning her, eyes closed like he could only bask in their touch.
“Are you hurt? Are you hurt?” she said frantically. It was only now that the tears came, and they came with such fervor it was like her body never expected to cry again.
“I’m okay,” he murmured. “Just a scratch.”
“Where?” She yanked away to see, and it took only a second to catch the blood trailing just below his shoulder. “Kallias?”
But unlike Mr. Wilson’s, there was no dark, gaping wound. It really was only a scratch, like the bullet had grazed him.
He gave her a pressed smile. “I promise I’m fine. I’ve had much worse than this.”
“That doesn’t make it better. Oh, my darling Kallias.” But then, there were other matters to attend to, weren’t there? “Is he?”
“He is.”
Oh. Now she understood why he moved so slowly, for the expression in his eyes was lifeless, as if by killing,hewas the one who died.
It made her instantly wish she had been the one to have done it. She was sure it would have haunted her forever as well, but she’d do anything to prevent him from ever having such an expression.
“Kallias…”
“Later,” he said. “We need to help Mr. Wilson.”
He was right of course, and she felt ashamed for not thinking of it herself.
“Okay,” she murmured. “But first.” She took his face in her hands and quickly kissed him. “You have no idea how worried I was.”
CHAPTER 94
She rowed Mr. Wilson towards town as fast as she could while Kallias pushed from behind. She was worried about Kallias’s cut attracting sharks, but he assured her he was fine and keeping watch for them, so they hurried along to town. He ducked back under the water though before any buildings came into view, and it was a good thing too. She could feel curious eyes on her the second she even came upon the first houses.
It was one of the things she hated most about a small town: nothing could be done without everyone knowing it, and seeing the lighthouse keeper row in when she wasn’t supposed to show for nearly a year was certainly one of those times.
And when the first curious souls saw averyinjured, wan-looking carpenter in her boat, why, one told another told another, and by the time she got the boat to shore, they were surrounded.
“What happened? What happened?” chorused the voices—children, women, old and young, fishers, sailors, even the butcher. All seemed to surround them.
On the boat ride here, Mr. Wilson had said it was best to claim he had come to give her the gun given his worries from Mr. Runington’s behavior yesterday, only for the man to show and attack, leaving Mr. Wilson no choice but to defend himself and Miss Wains’s honor. It wasn’t too far from the truth, he had claimed, and better than them claiming she had done it. She already made people uncomfortable by living alone and saving people as only a man should. If people thought she had the ability to kill, they might well declare her a witch, he’d said.
Sadly, she was sure he wasn’t wrong. She was definitely notmost people’s favorite.
So now as they got out of the boat and she helped support him and the people surrounded them, he told the story of the deranged Runington, shooting first without warning and declaring he would marry Miss Wains without her acceptance. Even weak and tired, he had them in the palm of his hand, speaking as they slowly walked toward the doctor.
And she could tell everyone was enthralled by him in a way she would never have. He made it look so easy that she was sure no one could tell most of his weight was leaning on her. Why no man offered assistance was beyond her; perhaps they were all so enthralled with the words they forgot she was there, for no one claimed impropriety at the touch either.
She could not stop watching their faces light up, how they seemed to hear it like it was a mere fable—as if a man had not attacked, as if a man was not bleeding before them, as if a man had not died, as if a man had not been forced to kill. To them, it seemed like just a story, even as the blood still poured forth.
