27. Penny
Penny
M oonlight striped the ground through the canopy of the trees as Kit and I walked along. It was chillier than I had prepared for, so I hugged my arms around myself and watched my breath fog in the air. Kit didn’t seem to mind, enamored by the serenity and the view as his soft smile would attest.
We made it there in relative quiet, crossing town and climbing a little hill past the residential portion of Ashpoint. It got darker and quieter the further we went, and now the pale blue of the moon was the only source of light.
It was romantic.
I caught myself eyeing Kit’s hand hanging idly at his side, then tried to distract myself from it by telling him about the kind of pecans these were and how surprisingly easy they were to shell.
Somewhere amid the chatter, I remembered Tessa’s harsh words about Kit being sick of me.
Of me talking like I was now, running myself out of breath with every thought and whim that crossed my mind.
Kit was quiet beside me, as always. Unable to get a word in edgewise.
My brow furrowed, and I slowed in my stride.
“What did you think of Tessa?” I asked.
Kit frowned. “She’s pushy. And rude.”
“But she wants to make you a succulent ham,” I teased.
“I think I’ll manage without.”
My smile spread as we continued, kicking through the carpet of fallen leaves. “Pity,” I said, then quickly clarified, “for her.”
Kit caught my arm and drew me to a halt.
Turning to face him, I found his expression earnest. “I meant what I said back there: thank you for stopping her. And for correcting her when she used my full name.” His gaze cut away, chasing something unseen through the dense trees.
“You don’t have to, though,” he added in a lower voice.
“Don’t have to what?”
Kit’s lips twisted as he considered. “Protect me, I suppose. I’m a grown man.”
“I know that.” Looking down, I dragged the toe of my boot through a bare patch of dirt. “You're more grown than I am. More of a man, too.”
A pecan lay beside my foot, and I crouched to retrieve it. As I’d told Kit, the thin shell peeled off easily, revealing the soft meat of the nut. I offered it out. “Do you want to try one?”
Kit took it and popped it in his mouth, chewing while I began the hunt for more pecans.“You’re man enough in any way that matters, Pen.” His voice chased me as I scoured the ground.
Warmth blossomed inside me, more effective than anything at warding off the chill.
Breaking into motion, Kit came alongside me and joined the search for fallen nuts. “I don’t think I congratulated you properly for your first sale,” he said .
I sniffed as I stooped to pick up a few more pecans. “It was just Rosie’s father. I think he was being kind.”
“I don’t believe that,” Kit replied. “You do fine work.”
Warm feelings filled me again, and I scrubbed my shoulder over my flushed cheek. “Thank you.”
I gathered more pecans than I could hold and untucked my shirt to pile them in the loose hem. Kit was filling his pockets just as fast, and between us we’d have enough for me to try my hand at making pecan tarts for he and I.
“As far as the money you make,” Kit said after a pause, “you don’t owe it to me. You should save your earnings for your family or to buy things you want.”
“I wanted to buy you dinner.”
To thank him. To repay him. To court him…
Nerves made my stomach lurch. I was suddenly grateful I hadn’t eaten more of the roast.
“And I appreciate that,” Kit said, his voice soothing my inner turmoil, “but it’s not necessary.”
Our meandering brought us close once more, and we straightened to standing mere inches apart. My hair fell across my eyes and, with my hands full of pecans, I blew a breath to try to clear my line of sight. When that failed, Kit chuckled and reached out, tucking the loose strands behind my ear.
The brush of his fingertips made my skin prickle, and I found myself staring. At his eyes, his lips, the hollow of his throat where the lacing of his shirt hung loose across his chest…
My mouth went dry, and I struggled to swallow.
He was near enough I could smell him, almost feel him.
“Kit?” I croaked.
He raised a brow .
“Do you fancy men?”
Silence stretched around us.
I half-expected him to ask what I meant, but he seemed to understand immediately.
His expression went slack, and he stepped back.
His hand, which had hovered in the air, retreated as well.
He tried to tuck it into his pocket, but the abundance of pecans made that impossible, and he clasped both hands behind his back instead.
My heart fluttered with dying hope. I’d been too direct. Too abrupt. Too intrusive, considering Kit’s penchant for privacy.
Still, it was less than I wanted to ask because what I really wondered was if he fancied me.
The longer he took to respond, the more stricken I felt. My fingers squeezed around the hem of my shirt, overflowing with dozens of pecans.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted at last.
“Don’t apologize,” Kit said, sounding strained. “It’s a fair question.”
One he had yet to answer.
He chewed his lip before admitting, “I don’t know. I don’t suppose I’ve fancied anyone really, man or woman.”
“Not ever?”
He pondered a moment more, then shook his head. “Since I left here, I haven’t been close to many people, so there hasn’t been much opportunity.”
“What about passing glances?” I tried. “What do you like? What do you find attractive?”
Kit pulled a pecan from his pocket and crushed it, dropping pieces of shell on the ground. “I’m not sure,” he said.
It wasn’t a no. He said he hadn’t been close to other people. Hadn’t had opportunity. But I was close. And we had opportunity. This was an opportunity, and I didn’t intend to let it pass me by.
My hands clenched around the hem of my shirt, holding aloft the pile of pecans.
With a final, determined squeeze, I let them drop to scatter across the ground.
Kit watched them fall and started to say something, but I surged into him.
I cupped my palms to his cheeks and pulled his face to mine for a crushing kiss.
I half-expected him to pull away, but he didn’t move at all. He stayed in place, going stiff against me until I released him and gasped a breath. My heart rattled inside my ribs, making me pant short bursts that clouded in the air. I stared at Kit, who stood frozen with his eyes unfocused.
Clearly, I’d surprised us both.
“Oh, gods.” Heat rushed my cheeks. “I don’t… I didn’t mean…”
He didn’t say he liked men.
He certainly didn’t say he liked me .
What was I thinking?
I’d imagined this evening as a romantic outing, an opportunity , but Kit remained as stunned as if I’d struck him.
“That was presumptuous,” I carried on quickly. “I shouldn’t have thought… I’m not sure I thought at all, to be honest. I just wanted to be… close to you.”
His discomfort twisted at my stomach. I wanted to ease it but didn’t know how.
“Kit?” I wrung my hands. “Please say something. I didn’t mean any harm.”
He moved at last, though not in any of the directions I’d hoped. His head dipped toward the pecans littering the dirt. “Do you want help picking those up?” he asked.
I looked at them, too, then nodded .
We knelt and began collecting the scattered nuts. My hands trembled as I scavenged and stole furtive glances at Kit. If I’d been bolder, I would have asked if he’d enjoyed the kiss—if it changed the way he thought of me in the slightest—but Kit was quicker to speak.
“The first Oath is next week.”
“Oh.” I stalled with pecans clutched in both hands. “Right.”
He offered what he’d gathered to me, and I pulled out the hem of my shirt to let him dump the nuts in.
“Have you given it much thought?” he asked.
Had I thought about the ceremonial branding that would leave me with new, searing scars? The smell of my skin cooking right below my nose? The mark that would, according to my mother, damn my soul?
“I try not to,” I replied.
Did he intend to ignore what had just happened? He claimed to not be experienced in love or affection, so surely our first kiss was novel enough to merit some discussion.
“You can ask me if you have any questions,” Kit continued. “I may not know all of the Oaths, but this one I’m familiar with.”
After picking up the last of the pecans, Kit and I stood. He paused to dust off his trousers, avoiding my eyes until I said, “Kit, I feel like I should explain?—”
“You don’t have to.”
I heaved a breath, wishing I could expel my anxious thoughts as easily. “Can I, though? Will you let me? Please?”
He looked uncertain but didn’t reply.
My hands wrung around the scrunched hem of my shirt. “After what Sayla told you and now this…” I cringed. “I’m not the sort of person who just kisses men who aren’t in terested in me. At least, I don’t mean to be that sort of person.”
Kit stared, and I took that as permission to continue.
“Where I’m from, it isn’t… common. I had my choice of fine girls, but none of them…” I squirmed. “They were truly lovely girls. And they weren’t to blame.”
I checked Kit’s expression once more and found it impassive. It was hard to be so candid, but I’d asked for the opportunity to explain, so I couldn’t back down now.
“Dawson Hilliard was the brother of a girl I was meant to court,” I said.
“He was a few years older than me. Tall. Handsome. I was so taken with him. He worked as a farrier, and I followed him around for weeks claiming interest in his trade.” I grinned at the memory.
“Not unlike lying about being your apprentice, I suppose.”
Kit smiled, too, and I began to relax.
“But it wasn’t like Sayla said,” I continued.
“My family didn’t know and neither did Dawson’s.
He was already promised to a local girl, but he…
” Blush warmed my face again. “He was fond of me, Kit. That’s why I kissed him.
Because he told me we couldn’t be together, and I got it in my head that I could win him for myself.
So, I kissed him in front of everyone and… ” I sighed. “You know the rest.”
Kit hummed a low note. “He punched you in the gut.”
I nodded. “And never spoke to me again.”
We lingered in quiet for a moment before Kit rested his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”
I stared at his fingers, perpetually stained from charcoal and ash in the forge. I was still studying his hand, wondering if I should grab it or leave it lie, when I managed to respond. “It was my own fault. I knew he wanted to keep it secret. He was ashamed of me.”
Disdain twisted Kit’s features, and he shook his head. “ He was wrong for that. He would’ve been a lucky man to have you.”
Breath hung in my chest as I searched for the meaning behind his words.
You could be a lucky man, Kit, I thought. We both could. I would be yours if you’d have me.
“But why kiss me?” Kit asked. “There’s no one to see and nothing to prove.”
I liked to think I’d outgrown my need to impress a crowd of strangers. Quiet declarations were more meaningful than public displays. But I did have something to prove to myself. To assuage my self-doubt.
“I hoped you would like it,” I confessed.
Kit chuckled. “It was a surprise, to say the least.”
He broke into motion, no longer searching the ground, but instead staring up through the leafless branches overhead. After we’d traveled about a dozen paces, he said, “But about the branding?—”
“Will you be there?” I blurted.
Kit glanced over.
My scarred fingers ached with memories of fire and pain. The panic from a tragedy long past was still strong enough to choke me. I knew it would hurt. It wasn’t dangerous or deadly, but I dreaded it. Mostly, I didn’t want to face it alone.
I cleared my throat. “Will we be together when they…?”
“I’ll be there.” Kit’s expression was grim. “You’re my recruit, so I’m expected to observe.”
I nodded while trudging through piled leaves. “Am I expected to observe yours?”
“No,” he replied. “I don’t think so.”
“Could I? If you wanted me to?” I couldn’t ignore the notion that he might be as frightened as I was, and I couldn’t bear the idea of him enduring the torture alone.
Kit shook his head. “I don’t want you to have to watch that.”
A gust kicked up, chilling the already cold sweat that had beaded on my skin.
I shivered, and Kit closed the distance between us, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders.
I quickly relaxed and let myself lean into his offered warmth.
Fears about the first Oath quieted as we made the turn back toward town, and I thought instead about how wonderful I felt nestled up to Kit’s side.
“As for the kiss,” he said, and my heart stuttered in my chest. “I didn’t dislike it, for whatever that’s worth.”
A smile curved my lips. I didn’t tell him so, but it was worth an awful lot.