He nodded. The clouds in his expression slowly parted.
When we left the shed, we instinctively walked toward the ocean. The peace sign my mother had painted on the lean-to in the paddock glowed in the moonlight. Amir glanced at my leg.
“Can you make it up?”
I nodded. We climbed to the top of the split-rail fence and pulled ourselves onto the lean-to’s slanted roof. My calf throbbed, but I tried to ignore it, happy just to be near Amir. We sat huddled together on the roof, his arm around my shoulders, mine around his waist. The line where the bluff fell to the sea glinted like silver filament in the dark. Beyond, the ocean seemed still, but the sounds of its waves tumbling against thesand told the true story. My heart swelled with the beauty of this vast, wild place, my home, and the connection I felt to the boy who sat beside me.
“Soon we’re going to look out at this same view, beneath these same stars,” Amir said, “and everything is going to be different.” His dark hair hung over his forehead, hiding the scar that I knew curved over his eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
“In two years we’ll be eighteen. Two-thirds of Horseshoe Cliff will be ours. We can build a house on the other end of the property. If Bear lays a hand on either of us, we can have him arrested. Once we’re eighteen, we won’t ever have to worry about being separated or taken away from here.”
I rested my head on Amir’s shoulder, afraid that if he saw my face he would know how conflicted I felt about his vision for our future. I loved Horseshoe Cliff and I never wanted to be apart from Amir, but I ached to be free of Bear and to experience more of the world. If anything, my stay with the Langfords had made these contradictory desires—to stay at Horseshoe Cliff and to get as far away as possible—only grow in intensity. How could I equally long for two different futures? How could I love a place and also wish to leave it?
Amir’s earthy, familiar scent was a comfort, but I was not sure I had ever felt so confused.
“I’m glad you’re home,” he said. I heard in his voice that he was worried by my silence.
“I am, too.” I closed my eyes. Even with them shut I saw the silver thread of the cliffs unspooling against a dark sky.
Amir cupped my chin and turned my face toward his. I opened my eyes. His sable eyes roamed my face. The way he looked at me made me feel as though I were the most important, most cherished person in the world. Warmth moved through my body. He lifted his hand to my hair, touching the thick, soft braid that hung in front of my shoulder. “Did you cut your hair?”
“No. It’s just clean. I took a bath. A really hot bubble bath. And Rosalie told me I could keep these clothes. Even the boots.” Amir didn’t care about fashion, but I knew he would appreciate the practicality of a pair of rubber boots that did not have a single crack.
“They’re nice,” he admitted. “What else did I miss?”
I told him that the woman who owned the house had a collection of Satsuma ware, and I’d held one in my hand. “You should have seen the look on the Langfords’ faces when I told them we’d studied Satsuma with Rei. If I’d sprouted another head, they wouldn’t have looked more surprised.”
Amir smiled. “Rei will be proud.”
“Oh, and I did a puzzle and played Monopoly. And Will gave me a book—Hemingway’sA Moveable Feast.”
“Thefood,Merrow. Tell me about the food.”
I grinned. “Cheese and bread and lots of honey.” I closed my eyes, remembering. “Salami. Prosciutto, I think? I’m not sure. Orange juice and chocolate croissants—”
Amir groaned.
“I’m sorry! I’ll stop,” I said, laughing, but Amir shook his head and smiled.
“No. Don’t stop. I want to hear about every last crumb.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder again, sighing happily. We were both quiet for a moment, and I knew without looking at him that he was smiling, as I was. “I really am glad to be home,” I said, and this time I meant it.
DAYS WENT BY,and my leg slowly healed. I could not manage to forget the Langfords, but I was sure that they had forgotten me.
And then one day while Amir and I worked in the garden, I heard my name being called. I straightened. The sun was bright and high in the sky, but it was cold, and every so often the wind would rise off the sea and hurtle toward us. Rosalie Langford strode down the garden path in corduroy pants and a pair of gleaming black boots that were similar but not identical to the ones that she had given me. She wore sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat that cast the sharp edges of her face in shadow. Her coat was navy blue and waxy, similar to a raincoat but with a corduroy collar. This was her “farm visit” outfit, I realized. I tried not to love it and failed.
“Hello!” she called as she tromped toward us, pulling off her sunglasses and waving them in the air. “I’m dropping by unannounced, but in my defense, you did it first.” She smiled.
I felt excited—relieved even—to see her, though I tried not to show it in front of Amir. “What are you doing here?”
The wind picked up and she held the brim of her hat to keep it from blowing away. “Will gave me directions. I wanted to check on you. How is your leg?”
“Much better. Thank you.”
I felt acutely how she kept her eyes on me. I was glad thatI’d tucked my hair into a baseball cap that morning and she couldn’t see how it had returned to its seaweed state. She could not have helped noting that I still wore her sweater. It had been cold all week and there’d been no reason to take it off.
