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“Thirty-eight,” she whispers, her high cheekbones staining red, and Anna nearly falls from her chair. Holly shrieks, which startles Blair, who drops her penguin cross-stitch. Rachel slaps a palm over her mouth.
“He is perhaps a bit handsome,” Blair whispers. But her eyes are bulging; I can see she thinks it’s mad.
Dot is quite demure at first, but then she brings us up to speed. They’ve been spending time together for three weeks. By evening’s end, Holly’s naming Dot’s unborns, and Anna’s doling out cupid advice. (“If he kisses your lips and slips his tongue in, don’t attempt to duel him. You’ll both choke!”)
As we slip out into the foggy night, I see Dot hug Holly. They walk off that way—and I suspect I know why. Holly’s feeling left out…as she does.
Anna walks me partway to the clinic residence, our breath staining the night in puffs of white. Before she turns toward her house, she stops mid-step.
“Wait—I had an odd thought. Where is Baby?” She tilts her head, as if perhaps Baby will materialize. “Did you put her back out with the others?”
“No.” I give what I instantly realize sounds like an uneasy laugh.
“Well where’s she gone to?” Anna laughs, too.
“Funny story, actually. The Carnegie has her.”
“Does he then?”
I nod. “Quite the fluffin lover. Perhaps a bit lonely as well.”
Anna gives an odd laugh as she turns to go. “Fancy that.”
As soon as I get into the residence, I call Declan and stand by the counter for an hour with the phone’s cord twirled about my finger. He doesn’t say much but that he’s feeling a bit poorly. I regale him with tales of my night, and then I offer to come to him. I could sneak back to the village for tomorrow morning’s mass if I departed quite a lot before sunup.
“Nah. It’s okay.” But he’s quiet, and my heart tugs a bit when we hang up the phone.
I call back after a hot shower. His voice is gruff when he answers.
“Were you sleeping?”
He snorts, and I shake my head. “Take your tincture and drink your tea, Carnegie.”
He chuckles—and I note he doesn’t promise he will. Silence spins across the line.
“You okay?” he asks.
I give a small sigh. “I miss you.” It’s the fourth Saturday since I realized I need to stay away if I want to attend mass on Sunday morning. It’s important that I engineer perception, but it feels so horrid—being separated. It makes me think of July. When I do, I feel near frantic with fear and confusion.
He interrupts my musings with a husky whisper: “What part of you misses me?”
I close my eyes and lean against the counter and confess my craving. He whispers a wicked incantation. Till I’m on the floor. Till I’m shameless, with my hand between my legs. He says he’s touching his sex as well. My flesh throbs with envy.
* * *
Declan
I lie in bed until I can’t keep lying there. Then I put on boots and a jacket, fill a thermos with some of that tea. As I’m going out the front door, Baby darts up out of nowhere.
I crouch down to rub her head. “You wanna go?”
She presses her warm, fuzzy self against my legs. I swallow hard. “Okay.”
I know she’s an ewe, and sheep are great on rocks, but I feel weird about taking her up somewhere with such an epic drop-off. I tie a rope around the collar Finley made her and use that as a leash. I’m pretty sure Baby thinks I’m nuts, because as we follow the trail up to the plateau, she keeps looking back at me.
“I’m sorry.” My throat’s so tight, it sounds raspy.
I’m glad Finley isn’t here
