Sid heads outside to work with the rest of the guys as they attempt to build a rain catchment system out of a mishmash of old piping. I help Young Tom butcher chickens, so we don’t have to feed the males through the winter. It’s a productive day. A good day. We’re back to normal.
But in the evening, right as Carlos and I have started slicing up vegetables for a bean and mushroom casserole, Albert runs into the kitchen with a message.
“Kayla! You’ve got a visitor.”
“What?” My knuckles whiten against the knife.Visitor. The word rings more likeintruderin my ears. What the hell is someone doing on the acreage, looking for me?
I squeeze the knife, reminding myself of its weight. It isn’t large, but if someone from Astolia is here, it’s better than nothing.
“Yeah, Sid’s out talking to her, but she asked for you,” says Albert.
She? That rules out the Grand Astrologue, but I don’t trust any strangers. I glance between Albert, who is waiting expectantly for me, and Carlos, who hasn’t looked up from the mushrooms. April, Sid, and the boys are the only people I’ve talked to for weeks. Why would anyone come to see me here? There’s no one else I know or trust.
“Should I tell her to come inside?” Albert asks.
“No.” If she’s dangerous, I can’t let her inside the house. A surge of adrenaline pulses through me as instincts I haven’t used since my time in the wilds rage back to life. “I’m coming. Stay back here, Albert.”
“Um… okay?”
I surge through the door, brandishing the blade and find…
Amy.
Amy Sullivan, talking to Sid.
They turn, and Amy’s eyes pop when she spots me—a blinking, knife-wielding idiot, arm frozen in a raised battle stance, as if I were going to war, not greeting a woman in a pant suit. All the fight I built up vanishes. The knife falls from my hand. “Amy—I mean, Miss Sullivan,” I sputter.
“Hi, Kayla.” She waves tentatively, smiling that pretty, perfect smile of hers. “It’s so good to see you. Sid invited me for dinner and—”
“You didn’t tell me that.” I round on him, heat flooding my cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me we were going to have company?”
“I tried to—” he starts, but Amy waves her hand, cutting him off.
“Oh, he told me to swing by when I could get the time off. There wasn’t a specific date.” She punctuates her explanation with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, is tonight a bad night? I can go. If you want, I can—”
“No. No, of course not. Please stay.” I smile so hardmy teeth grind together. “Why don’t you wait for us in the kitchen. I need to have a word with my husband.”
She turns to Sid, eyes wide, but he nods. “If you don’t mind, Amy?”
“No… of course not.” She slides a piece of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and walks towards the kitchen door where Carlos is poking his head out with a curious expression.
I grab Sid’s arm and drag him into one of the fields. It cuts into my ability to yell at him—Silas and a few of the other guys are still working outside—but it’s the closest we can get to private right now. “You at least could have told me about an open invitation!” I snarl at him.
“I planned to! I didn’t know she would come today,” he hisses.
“Planned? Did something get in the way of thisplan?”
“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. I’m not the one who’s been avoiding conversations. You shut me down when I tried to talk about last night, so forgive me if I thought it would be better to wait a day or two so thatyoumight consider talking about it.”
It is so bloody awful, arguing with someone who has reality on their side. My face burns with a mixture of embarrassment and rage. “Why did you invite her? I came at her with a knife. Do you have any idea how mortifying—”
“She was worried about you. She asked.”
Another, even more horrifying thought crawls down my spine. “Did you tell her about me? About the things I told—”
“No. Not really.”
“Not really?” That adverb is doing a lot of work and none of it is good.
