Chapter 33
Penny
By the time dinner rolled around, my insides were a tangle of excitement to see Kit and aggravation about being trapped under the same roof as Merrick.
Warren and I finished cleaning and sorting the barn long before the other men turned in, so we had time to help Mother and Sayla cook dinner and set the table.
“Perhaps Merrick could take his meal in the garden,” Sayla suggested as we laid out plates. “Or in the mud with the pigs. He’ll be filthy enough to fit right in.”
I loved my sister always, but she earned an extra measure of my appreciation when she proved herself my strongest ally in all things. Truly, my best friend.
Mother pinned her with a chastising look. “I imagine Kit will be quite muddy, too. Should we banish him to the sty, as well?”
Sayla rolled her eyes.
Mother used a towel to pull a tray of rolls out of the oven and set them on the counter. Warren brought over a pot of green beans and nestled them next to the roasted pheasant in the middle of the table. Sayla bumped into him, making him smile when he realized the collision was intentional.
They'd certainly grown closer since I was last here. My sister had been smitten enough with the silversmith half a year ago. Now, she was besotted. It made me grin, too, considering Warren’s plans for the evening.
The back door swung open and Merrick tromped in, stamping dirty boot prints across the floor on his way to the sink to scrub his hands, then to the living room fireplace. The miserable day had turned even more so as the sun set, bringing a cold front on the wind that whistled by.
Merrick was soggy from head to heels, and his cheeks and nose burned red with chap. He was grumbling something under his breath I didn’t care to make out as my attention returned to the door he’d left open and the next person coming through it.
Kit was a sight, more mud than man and soaked through.
I felt a pang of remorse to think how wretched it must have been slogging about in the muck for hours and how he’d so dutifully spared me from it.
I set down the last plate and skirted the table, rushing to get to Kit as he stooped to tug off his boots.
The frown that had creased his brow eased at the sight of me. I came in close and offered a hand to take his cold, clammy one so he could steady himself until he was down to his similarly wet and muddy socks.
He glanced down at those and sighed.
“Bath for you later, sir,” I teased and kissed a clean spot on his cheek.
“Food first,” Kit grunted, and I nodded agreement.
I followed him to the sink where he scrubbed up to his elbows and wiped down his face, then led him to the seat at the head of the table.
He balked at that, hesitating long enough to draw Mother and Sayla’s notice.
Merrick was busy warming himself by the fire, but he would take note when he returned as well.
It might have been asking for trouble to be so brazen, but I wanted to be explicitly clear about who deserved the place of honor in my house.
Another nudge toward the open seat toppled Kit into it. I wasn’t sure if he was resigned to my decision or too tired to resist. Either way, I scooted around behind and pushed his chair in before taking my place at his right side.
Mother brought the rolls over and Sayla and Warren settled into their seats before Merrick finally turned from the hearth.
To his credit, he didn’t protest the arrangements, but he did tut an aggravated sound before stomping over and littering the floor with clods of wet dirt.
Mother was at the foot of the table and Sayla had sat beside Warren, which left the only available place next to me.
That was unfortunate, but bearable. If Kit could abide working the fields with my half-brother for a full day, surely I could stomach brushing my elbow against his over dinner.
“We had quite the afternoon,” Warren volunteered while the dishes were passed around. “Penny showed me around the barn, and we finished a good many chores…”
He carried on enumerating the tasks in a tedious checklist. Merrick glowered at him through the whole thing while Kit looked ready to nod off about the time I went to hand him the green beans.
Clearing my throat, I scooped a serving onto Kit’s plate, then set the pot down. “Great work in the fields today. We want for nothing but sun. And maybe a bit of warmth.” I gave my best effort at a lighthearted chuckle and gripped Kit’s damp knee under the table. “I’d hoped we left winter behind.”
“Would the sun be enough to draw you from hiding, Penwell?” Merrick groused. “Or do you intend to spend the entire planting season lazing about in the barn?”
Sayla sputtered into her mug of tea. “The entire season, Merrick. Really?” She rolled her head toward him, and a bitter sort of humor danced in her eyes. “It’s been a day. And Pen had a nasty cough when he and Kit arrived. I’m sure he’s just being cautious.”
I stiffened, and Kit’s fork clinked loudly against his plate.
Merrick turned toward me, flashing teeth in a predatory snarl. “Oh, did he? Are you unwell, little brother?”
I took up my knife and began cubing my piece of pheasant. “I’m fine. And I’ll be out in the fields tomorrow. Rain or sun.”
“Pen,” Kit murmured, but I carried on over him.
“Tomorrow,” I declared while fighting a shiver at the thought of toiling in the bitter wet. Facing Kit found his features drawn. Tired. Wary. “What’s our plan, darling?”
Merrick took a sip from his drink, then set the cup down with a clunk. “As if you don’t know. You’ve only been doing this your whole life.”
“Merrick,” Mother hissed, “there’s no need to be so contrary.”
She looked strained, too, and that bothered me as much as anything.
My mother had endured enough pain. Lost her husband and had his body stolen—though she still didn’t know about that last part.
She lost me, too, for a time. Now, I was trying to right some of those wrongs, but Merrick insisted on stirring up trouble in the heart of our home.
“Our plan, Kit,” I repeated more forcefully. “And make sure you give ample responsibility to Warren as well. He’s quite the competent worker.”
Grudging as I sounded, my compliment was genuine and more than a bit intentional. It had the desired effect, earning the other man appreciative glances from Mother and Sayla. Warren’s cheeks pinked, and he busied himself with buttering a roll.
Kit was so exhausted I wondered if he’d thought about much beyond surviving his day-long encounter with Merrick, but he surprised me by chiming in.
“We’ll need to finish plowing the field we started today.
We only got about a third of it done with all the mud.
And we’ll need to rotate the livestock to one of the fallow fields so when we’re done with this one, we can start plowing the one they’ve been grazing for the last year.
I’d prefer not to leave anything fallow this season if we can help it. ”
My smile stretched till I was practically beaming.
I was right to put my faith in him. Just like I’d followed him to Ashpoint and across the province completing rituals in Eeus’ name, I would follow him around my family farm and trust him to make everything here as wonderful as he had everywhere else.
“Merrick and I will carry on with the plowing,” Kit continued. “Pen, you and Warren can move the livestock and clear any significant debris to make ready for plowing. With any luck, we’ll be ready to plant the first field day after tomorrow.”
“Wheat,” I informed Warren. “If we get enough of the fields plowed, we can plant oats next, then we’ll plant cabbages, peas, carrots, and onions in the back garden.”
He’d seen our stores in the barn and knew our supply as well as I did.
Maybe better. He had a head for numbers and more than once corrected me on quantities of things when I lost count.
But, like Merrick so eagerly reminded me, I’d been doing this my whole life, and I was competent in my own right. Or I could be. I had to be.
My gaze drifted to Mother at the other end of the table.
She looked morose, thinking too deeply about things I had the feeling she was better off forgetting.
No doubt she was as aware as I was that this was our first spring without Father.
Milestones were an odd measurement of suffering, of grief, but they certainly put things in perspective.
She could do with a bit of good news, and I knew just the person to deliver it.
Warren had picked up where I left off, telling Sayla about the organization system he’d devised for the seed stores. I almost hated to interrupt him when he looked so sincere and Sayla so enchanted, but they would have to forgive it.
I shifted forward in my seat then kicked out, knocking my stockinged toes into Warren’s shin and making him jump. His thighs hit the table and jostled the whole thing, which made Merrick swear and me snicker.
“What?” he mouthed, blue eyes wide with surprise.
“Warren has plans too,” I said. “For our stores, for his future…”
Warren blinked so slowly I almost thought he didn’t catch my meaning. Then, the blush that had earlier tinted his face returned in force, splotching down his neck like a rash.
“Oh,” he mumbled.
“Oh,” I repeated while nodding in an exaggerated way.
Kit shot me a bewildered look, but I raised a finger to him as a sign to wait, then propped my elbows on the tabletop and rested my chin in my palms, watching Warren like a child might watch a festival show.
Warren cleared his throat three times in a row while the red burned ever brighter on his skin. He fished into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch. Sayla had been rapt for several seconds already, but her focus narrowed to the bag and her next breath stuttered.
Watching her, I vividly recalled being in a similar position, gliding through the snow alongside Kit, welling with tears while he tied the cord around my wrist.
I sat up and grabbed his knee again to give it a squeeze.