I stepped into him then, welcoming his embrace and holding him close in return. I kissed his cheek, then his lips, seeking the comfort I so often found in his arms.
The heaviness that had weighed on me all evening began to relent, and I sighed, driving out a cough. Kit frowned and fretted, going so far as to put the back of his hand to my forehead to check my temperature.
“I'm not sick,” I protested, and Kit's face fell.
“No,” he agreed, disappointed because it would have been better if I was.
Better to think the symptoms would pass than that it was a permanent infirmity. Leatherworking or baking with Rosie weren't strenuous activities, but I rasped and wheezed sometimes simply walking across town. I worried to think what would happen come spring planting.
With a parting peck of a kiss, I pulled away. “Think I'll turn in.”
“You didn't eat.” Kit gestured to the beans and bread.
“Don't have the stomach for it,” I replied, then forced a smile. “It'll be an odd breakfast.”
I didn't make it a single step before Kit fell into pursuit. I glanced back at him.
“Do you want me to lay down with you?” he asked.
My smile returned, more genuine this time. “I'd like that.”
Ember and Nutmeg chased us into the bedroom, where I crawled under the covers and let my body melt into the straw mattress. Kit got in on his side and slid across to cozy up behind me, his chest against my spine and his face in my hair. He was still sooty from working the forge that morning, and he smelled like smoke, but I didn't mind.
I pushed into him, grabbing his arms when they threaded around me and hugging them against my ribs. His even breaths instructed mine, drawing deeper and slower as sleep crept in.
“Pen?”
My eyelids fluttered open. “Hmm?”
Kit’s warm breath ruffled my hair as he tucked his legs behind mine. “I'm not asking you to leave now,” he murmured, “but promise me,please… If something happens to me, say you'll go.”
I tried to roll to face him, but he held me fast.
“Your mother and sister need you,” he said. “Youhaveto survive this. Don't let both of us die if only one of us has to.”
I winced, pained by the seemingly endless discussions of death and killing and loss. It wouldn't do to tell him that, and I didn't have it in me to argue, so I gave a gentle nod.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Kit prompted.
“Okay,” I repeated, then squeezed my eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. Soon enough, I was.
8
Penny
“Ican take a turn, you know.” I nodded at the wheelbarrow Kit pushed along the winding path sloping gradually uphill. It was heavy laden with metal goods to be delivered after he dropped me off at home with Rosie. Baking at our cottage would be a nice change of scenery, and I’d stayed up late the night before making sure the kitchen was scrubbed clean and ready for the new mess we were sure to make.
“It’s no trouble.” Kit shook his head. “Besides, this is my work. You have your own.”
I’d told him about Rosie’s offer to pay me for baking, a rather happy arrangement. Leatherworking was a fine trade, and I did seem to have a knack for it, but I only enjoyed it as much as I did because it kept me in close proximity to Kit.
We’d almost crested the low hill when an idea wiggled into my brain, and I grinned.
“In that case…” I stepped in front of the wheelbarrow and brought Kit to a halt. Clambering atop it, I swung my legs around either side of the wooden handles to fit myself between Kit’s arms.
“Careful!” he said as I settled.
