Chapter 3
Penny
Our next day in the forge found Kit a bit more affectionate than usual.
More than once, he’d passed by while I was working at the leather bench and kissed the top of my head or my cheek.
I enjoyed the attention, but it made it hard to be sneaky about hiding the project I’d undertaken after talking to Rosie.
Proper courtship required gifts, and I had an idea for one to start.
Fixing more than a few saddles for Thoma had familiarized me with leather straps and buckles.
And since I’d already completed one belt for myself as practice, I’d decided to make Kit a new one too.
It was more practical than romantic, but it was a start.
In the early afternoon, we both stopped for a drink and gathered by the water barrel, using it as an excuse to stand hip to hip and talk. Conversation had barely begun when a third voice interrupted our quiet communion.
“Kitingor Koesters!” Anders’s big feet stomped the ground as he came into the shade, tracking snow into the dirt. He stopped and shook the sludge off his boots while chuckling. “Mouthful of a name, that one.”
I rolled my eyes and turned away from his approach while downing the last of the water in my cup. He’d clearly come for Kit, so I would leave them to chatter. It would give me a moment to burnish the edges of the new belt.
I’d made it only a few steps toward the leatherworking table before Anders called out again. “And the ever-present Penwell Oliver!”
A low grumble escaped me as I set my expression to pleasant and turned to face him. “Well, Anders, I do work here.”
The lumberman snorted and braced his arms across his burly chest. “Sure enough. Your roots in this run deep. Both of you.” He tipped his chin toward me then addressed Kit, who had moved into the space between Anders and me.
“Kit with your dear, dead dad,” Anders continued, “and your new recruit adding a tally to our local pack of Olivers. Some relation of Merrick’s, I presume?
” He peered at me, his eyes beady above his ruddy cheeks.
I didn’t have a chance to respond before Kit fired back, “Do you know many other blond-haired, green-eyed Olivers?”
Anders tossed his head toward me, and his grin took on a mischievous twist. “Yeah, I bet you like his pretty green eyes, don't you?”
Heat stung my cheeks. I scrubbed my sleeve across my face as though I could wipe it away, but Kit didn’t hesitate.
“I don't think about Merrick much at all, to be honest.” He shrugged.
Anders huffed a loud breath. “I didn’t mean…” His round features contorted in a scowl. “You know, because you two are always on top of each other.” He bounced his brows with taunting emphasis as he added, “Here and elsewhere, if I’m a betting man.”
My blush deepened, equal parts shame and excitement at the thought of being on top of Kit even now. I couldn’t look at either of them then, so I spun quickly away.
Kit shuffled his feet a bit, but his tone was admirably level when he spoke again. “You’ve put a concerning amount of thought into what’s happening in the privacy of another man's bedroom. Some unrequited fantasy, perhaps?”
Anders made a strangled sound of protest as Kit continued casually.
“It's nothing to be ashamed of. You said yourself, Ashpoint already has a couple of those. What's one more?”
The lumberman coughed again, almost gagging in his haste to refute Kit’s insinuation.
None of his efforts formed anything intelligible as I snickered and returned to the leatherworking bench where I dropped onto my stool.
Kit could clearly handle this fool better than I could, and I really wanted to get started on the burnishing.
With Anders standing awkwardly by, Kit also seemed eager to return to work. He retrieved his gloves from the anvil stand and tugged them on, then grabbed his tongs. It should have been a cue for our guest to leave, but Anders proved too stubborn to heed it.
“Anyway…” He dragged the word out, staying close while Kit used the tongs to the stir the coals in the forge. “Looks like I’m going to be squeezing myself into the middle of your lovely little pairing,” Anders said. “For a while at least.”
I paused with the leather strap in one hand and a block of beeswax in the other and glanced at the other two men.
“What do you mean?” Kit asked.
Anders shrugged his wide shoulders. “I find myself without a partner for the next pair of Oaths. So, I’ve been told to join you two.”
“Told by who?” Kit asked.
I had a suspicion long before Anders chortled through his reply. “The other blond-haired, green-eyed Oliver.”
My nostrils flared through a hot breath, and I started scrubbing the wax along the side of the belt. “And he sent you to tell us as much?” I muttered. Much more went unsaid as I rubbed quickly, angrily, shining the leather and dropping crumbles of wax into my lap.
“Not exactly,” Anders said. “I was just excited, is all. We’ll make quite a team, don’t you think?
” He crowded in beside Kit and elbowed him in the ribs, then chuckled.
“So long as you two keep it down at night when we’re on the road.
Don’t want to bump into you while you’re bumping into each other. ”
Rocking back on my stool, I let out an aggravated groan. “We're going on the road again?”
I didn’t mind an adventure—our last trip away from Ashpoint had been full of cozy nights and visits to a couple of lively taverns.
Without the hemlock to put a cloud of illness over this next expedition, it could make for an almost romantic getaway.
But not with Anders in tow. I would almost sooner drink poison again than endure his company on the road.
The thought of hours spent listening to the overgrown imbecile make snide comments about Kit and me made my skin itch.
Kit sighed before responding to my question. “We'll be leaving town, yes. But we won't know where we're headed until we receive further instruction.” He glanced at Anders with weary expectation. “Unless you have more to share.”
Anders shook his head. “That was it. I’d stay and discuss further, but I’m afraid you caught me on my way to the mill. Poor bastards can’t get a thing done without me.” He laughed again.
“We caught you?” I retorted, but Anders didn’t hear. Or, if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it before trotting out of the stall and into the icy square beyond.
In his absence, quiet consumed the shop.
The belt draped across my lap, and I smoothed a hand over it. Not being particularly sneaky but not wholly caring while gloomy thoughts encroached.
Winding up in a city where my overbearing older half-brother held any measure of control was a recipe for misery.
I was surprised again at the extent of his reach and how devious he could be.
Since Tessa’s death, Rosie was also in need of new partners to complete her Oaths.
We could have as easily been paired with her, and might have been, but I had no doubt Merrick got in the way of that. He knew I would enjoy it too much.
Looking at Kit found him grinding his teeth while apparently mired in his own thoughts.
I moved the belt to the table and rose from my stool to join him beside the forge. The warmth of the coals kissed my skin, and I only got close enough to pull him a few feet farther from it. My fingers curled around his wrist and gave a squeeze that drew his gaze to mine.
“You make a good point about Anders.” I smirked. “He does think a lot about us bumping into each other. Might wish we were bumping into him instead.”
A grin tempted Kit’s lips as he shook his head.
I inched in, pulling his gloved hand to rest on my waist as I whispered, “But if I wake up with that mammoth crushing me with his tree trunk arms, I may never recover.”
Kit snorted as the smile took over and made his eyes glitter with mirth. “You'd finally have a use for that knife of yours.” He nodded toward the dagger sheathed to my hip. “I made it to scare away predators, after all.”
I couldn’t help but think of Tessa. She’d been a predator in her own right, and I’d never told Kit about how I’d menaced her. I wasn’t sure I had the courage to actually use the knife on someone, but perhaps the threat of the weapon was enough to scare off idiots like Anders.
I grinned. “Oh, I'm not too worried about it. With your penchant for putting yourself between me and any perceived danger, you're the one most likely to end up being cuddled to death.”
Kit’s expression went slack as if he was surprised I’d noticed. Or perhaps he was arriving late to the realization himself. I chuckled and pulled away, though I immediately missed the press of his hand on my side. Anders wasn’t the only person with work to get done.
Back at my worktable, I had just enough time to get both edges of the belt thoroughly waxed and brought to a high shine before we were interrupted again. This time, the visitor nearly snuck up on us, slinking quietly into the shop unnoticed until she cleared her throat.
I jumped, and the clank of Kit’s hammer came to a sudden stop.
Turning, I spotted Isla only a few feet away.
She looked almost like an apparition, wispy and pale with white-blonde hair hanging around her face.
Her eyes seemed impossibly round as they flicked from Kit to me and she summoned the nerve to speak.
“Hello, Kit. Penny.” She nodded to us in turn.
I dipped my chin in response, afraid to speak for fear of scaring her away. Kit seemed to feel similarly as he lifted the tool he’d been shaping from the anvil and returned it to rest in the coals of the forge.
“Afternoon, Isla,” he said. “Is there something we can help you with?”
She shook her head, swinging locks like cornsilk across her shoulders. “Just visiting. Glad to see you’re both doing well.”
“Same to you,” Kit replied.
Isla swayed slightly and twisted her hands in the patchwork fabric of her cloak. The silence swelled like a bubble for several moments until it popped with the woman’s belated addition of, “You know, since the third Oath.”
Kit stared at her and so did I while quiet descended once more. I wasn’t sure if she stood there one minute or five before she cleared her throat again.
“That’s all,” she said, then turned and scurried away without another word.
The whole encounter was so abrupt and strange that I found myself lost for words. Finally, I settled to say, “That was nice of her.”
Kit squinted across the square, tracking the woman’s retreating form. “Strange is what it was,” he grunted.
“Maybe a bit,” I admitted. “Or she’s just shy.”
“Not that shy,” Kit replied. “She’s quite personable when Otis isn’t around.”
The scrutiny in his expression made me sigh.
He was suspicious, of course. Of everyone.
Always warning me not to trust the people in town or their hidden intentions.
I’d come to see some of the rationale in his paranoia, but it could be a bit exhausting.
We barely knew Isla. What reason would she have to wish us ill?
“She made the tea, didn't she?” I asked. “For my cough? She was likely relieved it helped.”
Kit’s features stayed pinched as he retrieved the metal piece from the fire. “Except that it didn't,” he replied bitterly.
I huffed. “If I’d had an actual cold, I'm sure it would have.”
Kit grunted and carried the tool back to the anvil. He took up his hammer in the other hand. The pinging sound accompanied the spray of sparks as he set to the task of flattening the glowing piece of iron.
With the belt burnished and the workday nearing its end, I was at a loss of ways to occupy my mind.
I tidied up the bench and tucked the belt out of sight, then rose to get my sketchbook from my satchel when a thought wriggled into my mind.
Something Anders said that was almost pleasant.
Amusing at least, and I couldn’t keep it to myself.
I crossed the shop to where Kit was hammering and stepped up behind him so his form nearly blocked me completely from the view of passersby.
Pushing onto my toes, I nuzzled my face next to his ear and whispered, “I should ask, though, what do you think of my pretty green eyes?”
The hammer missed its mark and struck the surface of the anvil with a clang. He stood still for only a moment before resting the tool on the anvil top and stooping to lean his tongs against the base of the stand. When he turned around, I batted my eyelashes and laughed.
Kit smiled, the softest look I’d seen on him since Isla’s departure.
Rather than wait for me to take his hand and put it where I wanted it, he snaked his arm around my waist and splayed his hand on the small of my back.
Then, he studied me. He stared long enough I wanted to shy away from his inspection but, before I could, he spoke in a gentle voice.
“They’re like the leaves of a snowdrop, the first hint that winter’s ending and warmth is coming. The promise of better times ahead.”
I blanched, mouth going dry while I failed to come up with any kind of response. I’d meant to be cheeky, but Kit turned the moment into something so endearing and earnest that I felt myself melting against him.
The weak feeling intensified when he added in a lower voice, “I think every part of you is stunning, Pen. But, lately, I’m most interested in your lips.”
I ran my tongue across them and held my breath until Kit smiled and turned away. Without his arm bracing me, I stumbled back, catching myself on wobbly legs. In profile, I saw Kit smiling to himself so mischievously it was clear he knew he’d bested me.
Besides the fluttery feeling eating up my insides, an erection was beginning to tent my trousers. I tugged at my crotch, trying to adjust before Kit noticed.
“I think I’ll head home,” I called over to Kit as the hammer resumed its rhythmic tapping. Shouldering my satchel, I swung it around in front of my groin and gave it a pat. “Tidy up. Get dinner ready.” Take a moment to myself to deal with the lustful thoughts crowding into my brain…
“Thoma’s coming, isn’t he?” I asked.
Kit’s nod was answer enough to send me scurrying from the shop with the memory of his touch fresh in my mind.