Apparently, I’d stood too long surveying the state of things because Warren prompted me again.
“Pen?”
I was ready with a groaned retort when I looked aside and found his face no less earnest than it had been in the loft. Maybemore so. He clasped his hands at his waist and wrung them together.
“Yes?” I asked.
Warren shifted side to side, dodging my eyes after he’d so plainly asked for my attention. Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to come out with a few words.
“I don’t know whether I should ask you or Merrick?—”
I raised my hand to stop him. “Never ask Merrick anything.”
He gave a sheepish nod, then cleared his throat. “About Sayla… I’d like to marry her. And I think she would like it if…” He tugged on the laces at the neck of his shirt. “I think it would mean something to her if I had your blessing.”
It wasn't my place.
That thought superseded the surprise and delight about what should have been good news. Warren didn't need anyone's permission to wed my sister, but he wanted approval. I didn't feel like that was mine to give. If my father had been here… if my father had been alive…
I hadn't grieved him in some time. Not actively. Memories came with sadness and the unwanted awareness of the void in my family. But I was busy in Ashpoint and didn't want for company. It was easy enough to put those things out of mind.
Here, for the first planting season without my father, it wasn't so easy to ignore.
I'd fallen silent again, leaving Warren waiting for a response I wasn't sure I could give. But Sayla said herself the previous night, reminded me: I’d sworn to provide for them, and part of that job was securing their happiness. If Warren made Sayla half as happy as Kit made me, they would be a fine match.
Warren stared, clearly confused, until I thrust out my hand and forced my sunniest smile.
“Welcome to the family.”
32
Kit
Ifelt Penny’s eyes on me the moment we hitched up the plow. Tucked away in the warm, dry barn, he was shielded from the ever-present mist that turned the field to a sucking mire and threatened to pull off the plow horse’s shoes with each step.
I resisted looking up at the open hay loft door, not wanting to draw Merrick’s attention to his half-brother’s presumed idleness when he’d spent several minutes grousing about it already.
He hadn’t liked my reasoning that plowing was a two-man job, and so there needn’t be anyone but us out in the foul weather. He all but laughed when I said Penny’s time would be better spent showing Warren the other tasks that would need addressing while we handled planting. Muttered under his breath about how lucky we were to be saddled withtwobumbling idiots instead of just the one.
I had to bite my tongue to keep from rising to the provocation.
Merrick claimed the task of leading the stocky mare, which left me to walk behind. The way he smirked made me think he found it to be some sort of slight or insult. I was at least a little vindicated by his disappointment when I agreed withoutargument and took my place between the handles of the plow and motioned for him to go.
I settled into the work like I wasn’t seven years removed from the last time I’d plowed a field, and I felt the same sort of indirect pride in the work as I had back then. That farm wasn’t mine, either, but I’d loved the man who owned it. He’d been more of a father to me in a few short years than myrealfather ever had been, so I threw my all into ensuring the farm thrived under my hands. Those fields had been promised to me, too, though that inheritance was ripped out from under me because I’d been too weak and scared to fight for it.
I wouldn’t let that happen again.
Penny had dreams for this place, and I would do whatever I could to make sure they were realized. I would ensure our family was well cared for and lacked nothing. I just hoped it was what Penny really wanted. More than once he’d lamented that he wasn’t suited to walking behind a plow for the rest of his days. I might have felt at home tilling these fields, but to him it was a chore, a burden, a yoke around his neck. One more thing he felt he should excel at but never did.
The mare grunted as Merrick leaned against her bridle and tried to drag her down the next row. The mud sucked at her massive hooves and made her stumble.
“If you lame the damn thing,” I snapped as she caught and steadied herself, “it’ll be you pulling the plow tomorrow.”
Merrick yanked the horse to a stop and whipped around to face me. Without his ceremonial robes and severe starched collar, he didn’t look nearly as menacing as he did in Ashpoint. Here, he was just a man, same as the rest of us, which made his sneer as threatening as the snarl of a toothless dog.
“Why are you here, Kitingor?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I said with a shrug. “Penny absolved you of any responsibility for this place. Why don’t you take the out and move on?”
