Chapter 38
Kit
The week after the conversation with his mother was the longest I’d ever seen Penny go without picking up his sketchbook.
It stayed in his satchel along with the roll of coloring pencils, and none of it moved from its spot on top of the dresser in our bedroom.
It was like witnessing a sort of slow death as his focus narrowed to work, eat, sleep for days at a time.
And he was quiet. He’d speak if spoken to, but unless I carried the conversations, our days in the fields passed in near silence. He kept to himself at mealtimes as well, too worn down to feign amiability while Warren detailed what we’d accomplished and Sayla fawned over him for it.
I could hardly remember the last time I’d seen Penny smile.
He was up with the sun more often than I was, so I wasn’t sure how much he was sleeping, since he was usually still awake by the time I drifted off each night. It was as if he was determined to prove to the now-absent Merrick that he could be a proper farm owner, or possibly prove it to himself.
There was no talking to him about it; he brushed off my concern any time I tried to bring anything up, claiming he was fine, as though I couldn’t see the unspoken pain and worry in the pinch of his eyes.
I did my best to be quietly supportive and managed well enough for a while.
We got through plowing and planting two of the fields in good time, and were due a more relaxed day while we let the horse rest. With nothing to do but finish clearing the third field and prepare it for plowing the next day, I knew there wouldn’t be a better time to get Penny away from it all.
So, after lunch, when he rose from the table to go back to work with half of his food left untouched, I caught his arm.
“I think you and I need to take the afternoon off,” I said. “We’re ahead of schedule, and you need a break.”
Penny’s mouth pressed a thin line as he cast his gaze out the back windows at the fields beyond.
“There’s still so much to do. Once the field is clear, there are fences to fix.
” He nodded toward the ceiling. “The roof needs patching, the plow could do with sharpening, and I really should fix the torn strap on the harness—”
“Pen, take a break,” Sayla chimed from her post by the kitchen sink. “You’ve barely stopped in the last week.”
Penny’s shoulders stiffened, and he swallowed hard. “This farm is my responsibility,” he said, monotone as if it was a script he’d rehearsed in his head. “I need to make sure it’s at its best. I need to make sure you’re taken care of.”
On the other side of the table, Amelina’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t speak. Her eyes flicked briefly to me before dropping to where she was pushing the crust of her bread back and forth across her plate.
“You can’t take care of anyone if you don’t take care of yourself first.” I squeezed his arm. “There’s no harm in taking a few hours off. We can go into town and get a strap for the harness, and maybe pick something up so we can make a dessert for this evening.”
He still looked unconvinced, but Warren perked at the mention of sweets.
“We can handle the last bit of the field, Penny,” he rushed to say. “You should go.”
Warren’s father and brothers murmured agreement, and Penny relented with a nod.
I reached for my plate, but Sayla waved me off.
“I’ll get the dishes. You two go ahead.”
While Penny went to the front door to pull on his boots, I detoured to our room to grab my coin pouch and tuck it into Penny’s satchel. I ferried it to the door to step into my own boots and hand it off to Penny.
He stared at it with a sort of longing before he finally took it from me and slung it across his chest.
“That’s better,” I said as I opened the door and motioned him out. “It’s been strange seeing you without this all the time.”
“I have more important obligations,” he said softly.
I settled into stride beside him and laced my fingers with his. “Not this afternoon. Free and clear until supper, and we’ll make the most of it.”
His fingers flexed around mine, and I lifted our joined hands to kiss the back of his.
A little of his stiffness eased. Small progress, but it was a start.
“What do you think we should make for dessert?”
He shrugged. “Strawberries are in season. Maybe a tart?”
I tugged him closer so our shoulders brushed as we walked. “Sounds delicious.”
The trip into town was shorter than I expected, but the quiet around us was more companionable than tense. Penny brightened when we entered the market, clearly feeling more at home amidst the flurry of activity here than he was back on the farm.
He took over leading and tugged me toward the first stall that caught his eye. The woman behind the counter was haggling over the price of some fabric with another patron, so she paid us no mind as Penny ran the hem of a deep green shirt between his fingers.
I released his hand so I could tuck myself up against his back and wind my arms around his waist. He shivered when I pressed my lips to his neck. “I always liked that color on you,” I murmured against his skin.
His swallow was audible. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. Brings out your eyes.” I reached past him to turn the small paper price tag pinned to the shoulder. “Looks about your size. Might be a little big, but I like that look on you, too.”
Blush burned across his cheeks, and he fought against a smile as he turned to speak quietly enough that no one but me could hear. “Because that’s the way I look in your shirts.”
“You’re not wrong.” My lips brushed the shell of his ear when he faced forward again, and I whispered, “But I prefer you in nothing at all.”
He barked a laugh and shoved at my arms so he could pull away. When he spun to face me, the red spread all the way to his ears, but his grin was blinding. I snagged my fingers in his shirt and pulled him back in so I could kiss his smiling lips.
“I’ve missed that sound,” I admitted. My fingers traced the curve of his mouth. “And I’ve missed this.”
Penny dropped his cheek against my offered palm and let out a sigh. “So have I. There’s just so much to do, and I—”
“You’re not doing it alone.” I leaned in to press my forehead to his. “Let me help.”
The shopkeeper cleared her throat, and we split apart. She obviously recognized Penny, asking where he’d been and how the planting season was progressing. They spent several minutes catching up on gossip and the goings on in Eastcliff.
Their conversation wound down when another customer approached. I handed over coin for the shirt Penny had been admiring, tucked it into his satchel, and we made our way to the fruit vendor.
“If you want, I can get the strawberries while you get the strap you need for the harness.” I tugged on an errant lock of Penny’s hair. “Then we may be able to take some time for ourselves on our way home.”
He nodded, and I pulled him in for a parting kiss before he trotted a few stalls down to greet the tanner.
I picked through the fruit display, looking for the reddest strawberries and amassing much more than would be needed for the tart. That way there would be plenty for us to share on our way back, too.
Even here, far from the dangers of Ashpoint, I was so used to focusing on Penny’s voice amidst the market chatter that I perked up the moment he spoke in a less than conversational tone.
“Dawson?”
That name put me on high alert, and I sought Penny out in the crowd of milling townsfolk. He was still in front of the tanner’s stall, leather in one hand and coin in the other, staring up at a taller man with close cropped dark hair.
I could only see them in profile, but neither seemed upset, so I forced myself to carry on with my task. I traded some coin for a small crate to pile the strawberries in, then hung back to watch, ready to swoop in should Penny need me.
The dark-haired man grinned and dragged Penny in for an embrace. “Pen! It's been a while.”
Penny broke free and stepped back. “It has,” he agreed. “How’ve you been?”
“I've been better. Things with Celia...” Dawson shrugged. “It didn't work out.”
I bit back a snicker at Penny’s poor attempt at sympathy as he said, “I'm sorry to hear that.”
Dawson waved off his condolence. “It's for the best. Frankly, we made each other miserable.” He leaned in closer. “But, when I came back to Eastcliff, I'd be lying to say I didn't hope to find you. I’ve thought about you.”
“You have?” Penny asked, shifting subtly to maintain the distance between them.
“I think I made a mistake.” Dawson’s brows dipped in a more serious expression. “No, I know I did. I took you for granted.” He laid his hand on Penny’s arm, earning a frown he seemed keen to ignore.
Suddenly, I understood Penny’s need all those months ago to kiss me where Levitt could see.
Watching this other man put his hands on my intended made me bristle.
I wanted nothing more than to drag Penny out of Dawson’s reach and stake my claim the same way Penny had.
Leave no doubt that the other man had lost his chance and send him on his way.
I started toward them.
“Seeing you now,” Dawson continued, “maybe it’s fate, you know?”
Penny’s eyes narrowed as he pulled against Dawson’s grip. “I don’t…”
I could tell even from several feet away that Penny was uncomfortable. His hands were fisted at his sides and a scowl twisted his lips. I would be damned if I let this other man undo all the progress I’d made in cheering Penny up, so I quickened my steps.
Dawson carried on, oblivious to Penny’s unease. “You aren’t busy, are you? Maybe we could catch up. Slip away to the barn like old times?” He crowded in and caressed Penny’s cheek.
Penny jerked free and nearly collided with me as I stepped up behind him.
“Sorry,” I said, “but I’m afraid the barn is already booked for this afternoon.”
The tension drained out of Penny’s body as he pressed up against me. “Oh, Kit! This is Dawson.”
I knew very well who the other man was, but I played along. “Dawson Hilliard?”