Chapter 40
Kit
It took us another week to finish planting the last of the fields and the back garden, as well as complete repairs on the fences and the thatch on the house and barn roofs.
I found time in the evenings to reseal the window frames, brace an unsteady kitchen chair, and shore up the crumbling stone of the fireplace in the living room.
By the time it all wound down, the farm looked tidy and all available planting space was in use.
Barring some sort of pest or blight or prolonged drought, there would be enough excess to turn a profit at harvest.
During that time, Amelina ventured from her room more often.
She worked alongside Sayla in the garden and spent more time with everyone at meals.
She was still wary of me—though she was at least cordial when forced to interact—but it was better than her spending all her time holed up in her room in stubborn silence.
After we’d wrapped everything up, everyone gathered in the living area.
The small space was crowded with the eight of us piled on the couch and a pair of armchairs and loitering by the fire.
The boisterous laughter and loud chatter was starting to wear on me.
Penny on the other hand, who sat perched in my lap in one of the chairs for lack of space, was buzzing with excitement.
I leaned in near his ear to be heard over Warren’s brothers arguing over who had done more work in the last few weeks. “I’m going to make some coffee.”
Penny glanced back then got to his feet. “I can make it.”
I caught his hand as I stood and tugged him toward the chair. “You sit. I’ve got it.”
He pecked me on the cheek then sat down, leaving me to slip into the kitchen and scavenge whatever peace could be found there.
It wasn’t much quieter, but having a task to focus on was soothing. The sense of overwhelm faded despite the noise chasing me through the open doorway, and I lost myself in the familiar steps of brewing coffee that were more ritual than habit after so many years.
I was so absorbed that I didn’t notice Amelina until she leaned against the counter just inside my line of sight. The kettle clattered on the cooktop as I jolted with surprise.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s all right. I didn’t hear you come in.”
We stood in silence, me watching her out of the corner of my eye and her monitoring the goings on in the other room, before she spoke again.
“I wanted to thank you for your help with planting and the repairs you’ve done around the house. The farm hasn’t looked this good in years. My family is in your debt.”
“It was my pleasure to help,” I replied. “It’s a lovely home and a wonderful property. I’m glad to see it thriving as it should.”
Her brows furrowed before her expression smoothed. “That’s not the only thing that’s thriving.” She let out a soft sigh. “I don’t recall ever seeing my son so happy. I believe I have you to thank for that, as well.”
I turned to follow her gaze to the living room where Penny was doubled over with laughter in the armchair. It was my favorite way to see him: smile so wide it threatened to split his face and cheeks flushed. I couldn’t help a smile of my own.
Out of the corner of my eye, I was aware of Amelina aiming her gaze at me.
“Do you love him?” she asked.
I tore my eyes away from Penny and met his mother’s instead. “I do,” I said softly. “In every way I know how. More than anything in the world.”
Her mouth pressed a thin line, and when she spoke again, her voice was tinged in resignation.
“I know the two of you are planning to go back to Ashpoint now that planting’s done.
I tried to talk him out of it, but he’s made up his mind.
” Her expression couldn’t quite decide whether it wanted to be a smile or a frown, stuck somewhere in between and looking pained above all else.
“I’m not used to him being quite so resolute.
He said you’ve kept him safe, and I’d like to ask you to continue to do so. ”
“You don’t have to ask.”
“He’s precious to me.”
I nodded and pressed a hand to my chest. “To both of us. I intend to marry him and take care of him for the rest of my life.”
A small smile finally won out, but it was strained.
“Then I leave him to you,” she said, patting my arm. She started back toward the living room, but paused halfway there to turn back and say, “I may have lost a son this planting season, but if Penwell has his way, it seems I’m set to gain another.”
And then she was gone, and I was left to shoulder the weight of her words. She’d meant them as a sort of concession, an olive branch after a month of tension, but they were at best a cold comfort in the face of the realization that dawned in her wake.
I couldn’t take Penny back to Ashpoint.
Amelina had lost one son. Merrick had washed his hands of the farm and family, and I refused to be the reason that she lost another child.
I’d never been successful in my attempts to get Penny to do anything self-preserving, but I needed to persuade him now more than ever; the stakes were too high.
The elder Oliver brother had been given almost a month to plot revenge for his forceful ejection from the farm, and I expected his retaliation to be swift, brutal, and targeted. The thought of leaving Penny at his half-brother’s mercy made my heart hammer in my chest.
It was like when I watched him drink the hemlock tea. It was too late to stop that or to undo the resulting damage, but I had an opportunity now. I had time and leverage, and maybe I’d finally convince Penny to put his safety over my company.
He’d been excited to tell me that Sayla might take over the farm in his stead, though she and Warren hadn’t given him an official decision yet.
If they decided to take it, Warren would need guidance through the growing season.
That might be reason enough for Penny to stay and pass along his knowledge in anticipation of joining me once I finished what we’d started in Ashpoint.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and settled at the kitchen table.
Staring down into the dark brew, my thoughts continued to spin like water down a drain.
My hands curled around the mug and squeezed until the heat bit into my fingertips and threatened to burn.
The discomfort was barely enough to pull my mind out of its spiral.
I lost track of how long I sat there, nursing my drink and trying to pull back on a mask of celebration so I could rejoin everyone else in the living room, but my coffee was lukewarm by the time a voice startled me out of my fugue.
“Kit?” Penny hesitated just inside the kitchen with his brows drawn together. “Are you okay?”
My smile felt forced, but it was enough to relax Penny’s worried expression. Even just his presence in the room settled me, too, and my racing thoughts slowed.
I would miss him when I left.
“I’m all right,” I said. “Just a little overwhelmed by all the noise.” I pushed back from the table and dumped the remainder of my coffee in the sink before holding out my hand. “Can we go for a walk? I need a little quiet.”
Penny’s smile returned in full force, and he slid his fingers into mine.
“I would like nothing more.”