Kit crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “You always make plenty, Pen.” He gestured to the oven as evidence. “A whole ham? For the two of us?”
He looked happy. More so every day and, if I’d thought him dashing with his forehead constantly furrowed and hismouth sternly set, it was only because I didn’t know how handsome he could be when he smiled.
His good humor bled onto me, and I stopped my flurry of movement with a sigh. “There’s bread as well. It’s cooling.”
The loaf rested on the open windowsill in a clay dish. Kit tracked my glance toward it, then nodded.
“No one will leave hungry,” he assured me.
Pushing away from the counter, he turned to the upper cabinet and opened it. I remembered the bottle of poison stowed inside, and my lip curled.
“Can’t that wait?” I asked. “You never want to eat afterwards.”
When Kit spun round again, he held a stack of dishes instead of the foul green liquid. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I intend to eat my fill of your succulent ham.”
He smirked, and I knew I was blushing again.
As he moved toward the dining table, he added, “But we will need to take it after our company leaves. We don’t have enough days until the third Oath to miss one.”
Four plates and sets of cutlery exhausted our supply, but it made the little table look a bit cheerier. Growing up in a crowded farmhouse, I was used to more company and commotion than we ever had in Kit’s cottage. It would be nice to have a full house again.
I retrieved tin cups from the hooks below the cabinet and added them to the places Kit had set.
“Why did you invite them?” I asked. “Is there some occasion?”
Kit bounced his broad shoulders. “You all seemed to get along. I thought you might like the chance to visit without Anders interrupting.”
Something tickled the back of my throat again, and I tried and failed to clear it.
Taking one of the cups, I went to the faucet and pumped it full of water. I guzzled the drink while Kit looked on with a quirked brow.
“I could have sought them out myself, you know,” I told him. “They’re often at the stables.”
Kit grunted, and I got the sense he wasn’t being entirely forthcoming. The air of secrecy prompted me to press.
“Not that I mind them coming here, but I assumedyouwould.” I pumped more water into the cup then took another sip.
“I don’t mind.” He bent over the table to straighten one of the forks. “They seem like decent folk.”
I snorted. “A bold statement coming from you.”
Kit paused and cast a sideways glance at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He’d spent the bulk of our early days in Ashpoint issuing endlessly dire warnings. I knew our mission was dangerous but, to hear him tell it, we stood in the maw of a beast, waiting for its teeth to crush us. Everyone was an enemy and every encounter an opportunity to have our intentions sniffed out. I’d been wary at first, but without much evidence to support Kit's claims, I’d lowered my guard. The most dangerous thing in Ashpoint seemed to be my half-brother, Merrick, and if I’d survived him for the twenty-two years of my life thus far, I could continue to do so.
I grabbed a towel from the counter and wrapped it around my hands before tugging open the oven door. “First Rosie, now Reimond and Thoma? I dare say, Kit, you may actually like the people here.”
He grumbled. “I will admit there are a few who aren’t as awful as the rest.”
I pulled the roasting pan from the oven, then bumped the door with my hip to swing it closed. Setting the ham atop the stove beside the potatoes, I discarded the towel at the same moment a knock came from the front door.
“I’ll get it,” I announced, rushing past Kit and through the living room.
With a brief pause to settle a sudden swell of nerves, I flung the door wide and found Reimond and Thoma on the stoop. The sun cascaded in behind them, making Reimond’s auburn hair glow orange, and warming Thoma’s skin to a rich shade of umber.
I’d expected them to be arm in arm, but that would have been difficult with Thoma’s hands laden with a covered casserole dish.
“Good evening, Penny.” Reimond’s smile merited one from me.
