Rosie looked like she had more to say, more ideas for how to ensnare Kit so thoroughly he’d be tethered to me forever, but I spoke first.
“Thank you,” I said.
She blinked, stalled in her thoughts until she asked, “For what?”
“Being my friend.” My lips quirked a sheepish smile. “You’re quite dear to me, I hope you know that.”
Her eyes sparkled. “And you to me. Now, open that book, and let’s get started.”
2
Kit
Penny joined me at the forge near lunchtime and told me about his visit with Rosie: how nice it was to reconnect, their plans to resume baking together, and her request for Penny to tool her a new coin purse. He followed me from firepot to anvil and back, asking my opinion on pastries and desserts they wanted to try. It was intoxicating to see him so animated after weeks of quiet fretting.
I’d gotten better at reining in my distraction at having him so close, but that day, he was something else. I scarcely accomplished anything the rest of the afternoon.
The sun was starting to dip below the rim of the valley when I shuffled him out into the market to get what he needed for dinner from the meat merchant.
“Are you sure? I could take the horseshoes to Thoma if you wanted to do the shopping,” he said, leaning back against my hands and setting his heels.
He knew me well enough to assume why I’d put the delivery off for the past few days. Thoma was still mourning, and the last time either of us had seen him besides in passing had been the day he watched Anders strip the man he loved down to bones.We missed Reimond, too, but that could never compare to the pain Thoma was in.
I waved off Penny's offer. “I’ll do it. I’ve been meaning to check in on him anyway. I should have gone long before this.”
Penny turned to face me, and with his body blocking the view of anyone outside the shop, slid his hands into mine. “You’re a good man, Kit,” he said, his smile soft and adoring. “I don’t know how you could have ever believed any different.”
My heart throbbed, and I squeezed his fingers.
“Tell him I said hello.” Penny stepped back and let my hands drop. “Let him know he’s always welcome to come by.”
“Of course I will.” I returned his smile as he ducked out from beneath the canopy and called after him, “I’ll see you at home.”
I made quick work of raking out the coals, then turned to the repair rack. I tugged down the leather bag Penny had hung on the corner of it, his failed first attempt at a satchel for his sketchbook. I swept the handful of horseshoes off their hook and into the bag before slinging it over my shoulder. It may have been too small for the book, but it was just the right size for carting the iron shoes around town.
The bustle of the market faded behind me as I headed for the stables on the outskirts of Ashpoint. There was no one else about, and all the paddocks were empty with the horses put up in stalls for the night. The main barn door was barely open, and lantern light spilled out in a beam that stretched a few feet down the path.
I slipped inside and started down the line, passing slowly by Flint’s stall. Pausing, I gave him an affectionate scratch behind his jaw. He quickly tired of the attention and turned away.
Continuing along, I came to a stall with a carved wooden plaque denoting it to be Betty’s. A peek inside found her lying in the straw, her legs folded beneath her and her neck curved around Thoma where he was curled against her belly.
It felt like I was intruding on something that I shouldn’t. This was part of why I hadn’t visited yet; maybe he wasn’t ready for company. He hadn’t come by the forge, or to the house, or sought either Penny or me out, and maybe that was because he didn’t want to.
But I also couldn’t leave him alone like this.
I lifted the latch on the stall door, and Thoma’s head jerked up. His brown eyes shone in the lantern light, and tears cut tracks through the dust on his umber skin.
“Mind if I join you?” I asked, easing the door open.
He swallowed audibly, then shook his head.
Betty lifted her muzzle to snuffle at my clothes in search of treats, and I rubbed her forehead. When she gave up on my empty pockets and rolled to lay flat on her side, I sank down cross-legged in front of Thoma.
I kept quiet while he scrubbed at his cheeks with the hem of his sleeve, and he broke the silence before I’d quite figured out what to say.
“I know why you’re here,” he said with his gaze fixed on the ground. “Checking up on me. But I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” I said softly. “And no one expects you to be.”
