“Well, I am certain they enjoy spending time with ye too,” Leah said. “Nay other person, except the Laird himself, has been able to make them light up as ye have.”
The words slid under Erica’s skin, and she tried to shrug them off.
Of course, Leah meant it as a compliment. There was no denying that. But this only made the brief thought she had earlier even more painful.
The childrenwouldbe devastated once she left.
She didn’t know how to deal with that. So instead of responding to Leah’s compliment, she made a sound in her throat that might have been agreement. Leah gave her a quick smile and returned to the girls.
Later, they ate bread, broth, and hard cheese at the long side table. Katie told a story with her hands about a frog that had escaped from the barrel. Bettie corrected every detail and made it worse. Erica took small bites and watched the door, even though she had sworn she would not.
After the noon meal, the girls wanted to play with more ribbons and sort them out for some reason.
Erica sat cross-legged on the floor and let the pile cover her lap. Katie climbed onto her knee without asking and stayed there while she tied a bow. Bettie, on the other hand, leaned against her shoulder.
Their weight made Erica’s throat close up. She held very still so they would not move away.
In the late afternoon, they begged to go back outside, so Erica took them to the narrow path beside the castle’s tower. They played a game of pretend market, trading pebble coins for bundles of thyme.
“Ye are a soft seller,” Erica said at some point when the girls handed her everything she wanted for the smallest of rocks.
“I am a kind seller,” Bettie said. “People come back to kind sellers.”
“Aye,” Erica said. “They do.”
When the bell sounded for the evening meal, the girls groaned again and began to gather the mess they had made.
Erica stood and shook bits of crushed stem from her skirt, ignoring the way her fingers smelled of green and earth. She looked at the marks the day had left on her palms and thought of turning the lock of her chamber door, only to find it empty of the hopes she had left there in the morning.
On their way inside, Katie slipped her hand into Erica’s and swung it twice. “Will ye sit near us tonight?”
“If I can,” Erica said.
“Ye can,” Bettie said with confidence.
Erica smiled and let them pull her along.
That night, the quiet came back hard. It always did. The sounds of the castle after the girls retired to bed were different. She let down her hair, sat by the small window, and listened to it all likea woman listening for a cart on the road. The laughter from the afternoon was still close enough to touch. It also felt borrowed.
The second day went pretty much the same. Erica taught them to string the small white blossoms on cotton thread to make tiny garlands for the handles of their baskets. They scolded her for pricking her finger, and she pretended it hurt more than it did so they would feel brave.
Leah, once again, brought out a blanket and a pot of jam. They ate so much of it that Katie got a smear on her cheek. Erica wiped it with her thumb and felt the swing of the world again, off and then on.
The third day, talk of the cèilidh grew louder in the halls. Grandmamma stood by the kitchen door and inspected every meal like a general surveying troops. The girls begged Erica to practice a dance, and she let them pull her into the center of the yard, stepping and turning and pretending not to look toward the gate.
That night, she slept a little and woke up with the knot still there. She and Alex stood miles apart, and for some reason, it felt like the gap continued to widen with each passing day.
By the fourth day, the crowns they had made hung from pegs to dry. Katie named one for every person she loved. Bettie, on the other hand, tried to name one for every person shewantedto love her. Erica said they could not do that. They did it anyway, and the names they chose made her laugh and then swallow hard.
Each night, the quiet returned and settled on her shoulders. She would lie on her side and think about the girls’ warm weight on her lap and then think about the door closing behind her.
She tried not to think about the other door.The one in her chest.
On the sixth morning, the girls raced into her room before the bell and climbed onto her bed.
“We have decided,” Bettie declared, breathless. “Ye will wear the green dress.”
“The blue one,” Katie said at the same time. “Because of the lake.”
