Leah. Evening of the fourth day.
Darknesshadfallenoverthe estate, the temperature dropping and causing the soft ground to harden again. Earlier, her father, Jonas and Owen had fallen the yule log. While tradition recommended burning the large trunk of tree within the house, Leah’s mother would hear none of it. Thus, they always waited until dark, gathering around a blazing bonfire, each of them sitting on smaller pieces of the trees as rustic benches. And then they would each try their turn at scaring the group.
Miranda and Rose were in their beds, cozy and awaiting Christmas morning as Owen and the rest of the siblings sat in the wagon, making their way to the back of the estate where servants already had the yule log burning. Leah could see the slight orange flicker as the wagon swayed over the hills and bumped atop the uneven ground.
Owen sat across from her, and when the siblings were busy talking, he would steal glances toward her. Leah wasn’t sure how to react when he smiled at her. Everything was still so fresh after this afternoon, and she had ruminated on what had happened every second of every minute from then until now. But she still couldn’t quite understand how she had moved from loathing Owen’s existence only four days ago, to wherever her heart seemed to be now. Somehow, her exacting revenge had drawn them closer together instead of dividing them further.
How very strange.
“I cannot wait to sit beside the fire,” Graham said, his shoulder pressed against hers. The wagon was not very large. “It is freezing out here.”
“You say that every year.” Cecily laughed, hunched up beside Jonas. The lantern offered a soft light, the shadows continuously shifting as it swayed with the horses’ movements.
Owen was pressed against the wagon, on Jonas’ other side, and at the moment he seemed to be studying the passing trees.
“I expect a very scary story from you tonight.” Leah had to break the tension. It was becoming unbearable. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since they had almost kissed in the larder. Her skin warmed despite the chill of the air. She could remember vividly how his breath had tickled her face, how his hand had tensed under her touch and how his eyes seemed black in the dark room, staring at her with an intensity that left no denial of what had been about to happen.
He had been going to kiss her.
Owen turned to her with a smile. “If I do not give you goosebumps, I will return home in utter defeat.”
“You all have very different ideas of scary.” Graham sighed. “To me, loss of an estate due to bad investments is much scarier than ghosts or apparitions.”
Jonas barked out a laugh. “Is that why you slept on the floor of my room last year? You were afraid Father would lose our entire estate suddenly on Christmas Eve?”
Graham rolled a shoulder. “It could happen.”
“Very doubtful though,” Cecily added. “Considering the feast we ate the very next day.”
“All the more reason to fear losing everything.” Graham raised his chin. “That meal must have cost a fortune.”
As Jonas and Cecily continued to barrage Graham with teasing, Leah let herself turn back to Owen. But, he was happily watching her siblings exchange.
Perhaps they had only misunderstood each other as children. She had been rather moody and he had been—well—a young, silly boy. And she had to admit, letting go was rather fun.
The wagon halted as it neared the fire. Jonas and Owen jumped down, and Owen stood beside it, his hand raised as he offered to help her from the wagon. Her palm slid over the back of his hand and all the feelings from earlier pounded in her chest. When she stepped onto the crusted earth, her fingers held his for a moment. Their eyes met with a snap, Owen’s thumb running along her knuckles.
Leah took a quivering breath as she slid her hand up his arm, allowing him to lead her over to the fire. The snow was gone, but the grass gave a slight crunch under their feet. The darkness offered a certain privacy, allowing them to use it to stay near one another as they walked. Jonas, Cecily and Graham were already situated when they made it to the fire. Logs surrounded the roaring fire and Owen took a seat directly beside her, the log being a perfect length for just two.
“So, who shall go first?” Jonas asked, standing across the fire from her and Owen.
Leah smiled. “You, of course. It is tradition.”
Jonas hunched over, holding his arm in front of his face. “It all began on a night, very much like this one. A young family sat around the fire—laughing, smiling, enjoying the season and its festivities. Until a cool wind swept in, snuffing out the burning flames . . .”
As Jonas told his story, Graham straightened in his seat, trying to look brave. But anytime a rustle sounded in the brush behind them or someone did anything so much asmove, he would flinch. Cecily leaned her elbows on her legs, smiling as Jonas did his best to scare them all.
Leah felt something brush against her back, and she jolted forward on her seat.
“Shhh.” Owen leaned near her ear. “It’s just me.”
“Oh.” Leah settled herself back, balancing on the log. Owen’s arm was stretched out behind her and she glanced at him to see if he would move it. But he only looked on to Jonas as he wrapped up his story, leaving his arm behind her as if to gently hold her up.
“—And every year when the full moon shone, they were all left with the memory of that night.” Jonas bowed at the end of his story, and they all offered their applause.
“Not bad, Jonas. But not enough to frighten me.” Graham shrugged.
“Please.” Cecily scoffed. “I could see the beads of nervous sweat on your brow from all the way over here.”
