“Did the cabinets tell you where to find those?” I asked, trying to sound annoyed and not discombobulated over the very wordmarriage.It wasn’t too difficult. Ezra knew his way around the kitchen better than I did, and it made me feel like an outsider in my own home.
“What?” Ezra blinked for a second, then huffed a small laugh. “Oh. That’s between me and the unfinished maple.”
He had an uncanny way of making me smile and lose track of my thoughts. I sat across from him, and the sun streamed in through the narrow windows at us, lighting dust motes like fireflies in the shady room. “I’d like to do this again,” I said, quickly adding, “though not here, obviously.”
It took Ezra a long time to answer me, so long that I wondered if he’d reject the very notion of spending more time with me. “Yes,” he finally said, without looking up at me. “I’d like that, too.” He devoured the toasted bread in three bites.
“Is the midwife starving you?” I asked, not sure if I was impressed or horrified.
He looked up, confusion on his face for a moment, before he grinned. “You realize she’s teaching me healing, not providing room and board.”
“That’s right. You’re a vagabond,” I said, surprised at how fond it made me feel to tease him.
“I am,” he responded, too serious. My smile faltered. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m perfectly comfortable. Believe it or not, I could survive on my own if I had to.”
“I do believe that. Wouldn’t the trees toss you nuts and fruit if you asked them to?”
Ezra licked his fingertips and picked up the last crumbs on his plate. “I’ve never asked.” He swallowed and looked at the sunbeam cutting through the room like a blade. “My mother was a courier. We lived all along the Dry Bone. Rafted most of the time. Slept in tents and foraged and hunted. Stopped in little towns and outposts when we could. I didn’t appreciate what a good life we had, that I wanted for nothing. We weren’t tied down by anything.” His gaze had gone faraway, and he ran his finger along the edge of the plate absently. “She taught me how to work hard, but she made it a game whenever she could. I miss her every day.”
“What happened?” I asked, suddenly hoarse.
“I drowned her when I was nine.” He ignored my gasp. “She wouldn’t give me something I wanted. The terrible thing is that I can’t even remember what it was. Probably something sweet. I always wanted her to buy me sweets at the general store.”
My ears buzzed like the room was full of flies. “Ezra …”
“I was so angry.” He laughed once, bitterly. His words became choppy and too fast. “I hated that we had to work all the time and that I never got to play. I called to the water and made it rise, and it scared her. I was glad that it scared her. But then it capsized our raft. The river carried me to the bank safely. And the current swept her body downriver and left her in a shallow pool.”
I tried not to picture it, but my mind supplied the image anyway: a young woman floating in the water, hair rippling like river grass.
“You were a child,” I said, swallowing down nausea. “You didn’t mean to do it.”
His breath shuddered. “It doesn’t matter what Imeantto do. Don’t you see?”
I didn’t see. It made me feel like a child incapable of understanding what adults were talking about. “That doesn’t make you dangerous now.”
“I know that.” He pushed his stool back and stood, running his hand through his hair. “It isn’t supposed to be this way,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
I stood in turn, my heart racing. We weren’t fighting, but it felt like it. I felt bruised and helpless. “What do you mean?”
When he met my gaze, something changed in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter now.”
I hated his dismissal. I hated how unhappy he looked. The Mission was so quiet, I could hear his uneven breathing.
“I’m sorry you lost her,” I whispered. “I know—I know it’s hard to be alone.”
His lips parted gently with surprise before they curled into a sad smile. “I haven’t felt alone with you.”
Bumping into the table clumsily, I threw my arms around him.
He caught me with a little “oof” and pulled me closer, his hands clasped at my lower back. “Jo …” It was a fond, exasperated admonishment. But he didn’t push me away.
I found myself wanting this fiercely. The feel of his heartbeat. The strength of his hold. The sense that no matter how tightly he held me, he needed me to hold him tighter.
Pushing up on my toes, I tried to kiss him. I needed to kiss him.
But he froze, his muscles twitching against me, his breath hitching. I followed his wary gaze, and my body went numb with panic.
Julian stood in the entryway, his jaw tight with fury.
