I poured myself a cup of coffee and settled at the kitchen table. Staring down into the dark brew, my thoughts continued to spin like water down a drain. My hands curled around the mug and squeezed until the heat bit into my fingertips and threatened to burn. The discomfort was barely enough to pull my mind out of its spiral.
I lost track of how long I sat there, nursing my drink and trying to pull back on a mask of celebration so I could rejoin everyone else in the living room, but my coffee was lukewarm by the time a voice startled me out of my fugue.
“Kit?” Penny hesitated just inside the kitchen with his brows drawn together. “Are you okay?”
My smile felt forced, but it was enough to relax Penny’s worried expression. Even just his presence in the room settled me, too, and my racing thoughts slowed.
I would miss him when I left.
“I’m all right,” I said. “Just a little overwhelmed by all the noise.” I pushed back from the table and dumped the remainder of my coffee in the sink before holding out my hand. “Can we go for a walk? I need a little quiet.”
Penny’s smile returned in full force, and he slid his fingers into mine.
“I would like nothing more.”
41
Penny
Seeing the results of our weeks of labor was gratifying, and I knew my father would have been proud.Ishould have been proud, but instead I found myself anxious.
Our impending return to Ashpoint was double edged. The cottage there that had become home beckoned, with all the love and warmth we’d built within its walls. But Merrick was there, too, along with two more Oaths and the small society that hinged on our efforts to lead them toward change. Or destruction.
But seeing this—the farm thriving, my family safe and cared for—it gave me hope. We could do good things, Kit and I. Maybe even great ones.
We slipped out of the house and crossed the fields to the barn, which was cast in the pale blue glow of the moon. I didn’t expect interruptions, but it seemed like the best place for a quiet conversation and, perhaps, a moment of intimacy.
I broke out ahead of Kit to tug the door open, then stood aside as he passed into the shadowy building.
“I think your mother may be coming around,” he said as I closed us inside.
The world became dark and so, so quiet. The window in the loft admitted a pane of light that cut through the air, illuminating dust motes drifting steadily downward.
“That’s wonderful,” I replied as I took a step toward him, sliding my hands into his and pressing in until we were chest to chest.
Running into Dawson in town brought back memories of teenage tangles in the hay. I’d be lying to say I hadn’t considered improving on those clumsy endeavors with the man I loved. I could think of no better way to bid farewell to the farm, and no way I’d rather spend the evening.
I pushed up to kiss Kit’s cheek, relishing the scrub of his stubble against my skin. My breath and voice ghosted past his ear as I murmured, “You two will be able to leave things on good terms, then. When we go back home.”
Kit’s body tensed, and his hands tightened around mine. When he pushed me back, I searched his somber expression.
“About that…” His eyes glittered in the dim light as he cast them away. “I think it may be best if you stayed here.”
An exasperated breath whooshed out of me, and my arms dropped to my sides. “Haven’t we had this conversation enough? I wouldn’t leave you. Not for an hour, not for a day, and certainly not for untold months while you’re in danger far away.”
His frown drew harsh lines across his face. “Merrickwilltry to kill you again. I imagine he’ll be watching for our return and have some nasty surprise for us when we get back.”
“Or foryou, if you go alone,” I chimed in.
Kit sighed.
“Then what?” I stepped close again, cradling his face in my hand and catching his skittish gaze. “You languish in prison while I wait here endlessly? Or they kill you, and I still wait here, hoping you’ll return.”
His lips pursed, but he gave no reply.
My heart twinged in my chest. “Kit, that’s tragic.”
And frightful and, frankly, unbearable.
