Paloma tilted her head slightly. “What exactly does come with the territory? Accusations of witchery? Or belief?”
Deryn cocked a hip, hand on her belt. “Both. This island’s history cannot be ignored, and neither can the events my ancestors were put through by the Puritans. As for belief? I have faith in good things to come. And in…coming.”
Paloma raised an eyebrow at Deryn’s antics, Deryn closed her mouth and gulped. Well, this was the peak of unfairness. When Paloma crossed her arms over her chest and, consequently, pushed her breasts up, making them rise ever so slightly higher in the already low-cut blouse, Deryn amended her assessment of unfairness. Because surely this one was it. The peak of the peak.
“Let’s leave sex and the supernatural alone, for now, because I have not had enough coffee to discuss orgasms or brujas just yet. How about we come back to your comment? What did you actually mean?” Paloma spoke quietly, though she obviously realized she had caught her fake girlfriend flat-footed. Deryn cocked her head and frowned.
Paloma waved her hand dismissively. “The comment from before…uh… The haven remark.”
“Oh, yeah. I mean, the Crowharts weren’t the only ones seeking refuge, and not just from the…let’s call it ‘religious persecution’ for now. Dragons has served as a shelter for women running from their husbands, fathers, and families for centuries. Some were taken in by the school as cooks, maids, and staff, depending on their level of education. Some simply settled on the island, hence its female population has always been slightly higher. Also, not just women ran here, queer people too. Whichis pretty good for us lesbians, bisexuals, and pansexuals, if you ask me.”
Paloma shook her head.
“Let’s not pretend this is Provincetown, Ms. Crowhart. While I don’t see overt homophobia, the misogyny is still rampant.” Deryn wanted to contradict, but Paloma kept speaking, effectively shutting her up. “Are you saying that you approve of my idea?”
“To make a shelter for women and queer people seeking support and assistance the fulcrum of your campaign? Yes, I do. It’s honorable. However…”
Paloma turned away and started walking toward Market Square. She looked over her shoulder, and Deryn fell in step with her.
“However, Ms. Crowhart?”
“It’s not my ‘however.’ I want to help survivors of violence as much as you do. The ‘however’ is for the campaign’s sake. You will likely be questioned on the necessity of a shelter in a small town that barely needs a sheriff’s department, which was established only after Dragons School for Girls went up in smoke and that fallout.”
Paloma was silent for a few seconds, allowing them to move into the crowded square, the Christmas market bringing tourists once again to the island. Their numbers were much smaller than the fall crowds, but the thirty or so booths were busy nevertheless. In the distance, Deryn could see Prudence standing in her bookstore’s doorway, observing the scene in front of her.
“You don’t think running on a platform that puts the Center for Survivors forward is a smart move?”
Paloma turned to face her fully, and Deryn nearly swallowed her tongue. The morning sun was making its way above the ocean line behind her, framing Paloma in an ethereal glow, hereyes dark and yet somehow brighter than ever before. Deryn tried to swallow around the growing lump in her throat.
Why is it suddenly hard to breathe?
“I didn’t say that. And I did mention there being more women on the island than men, so…”
“That you did.” Paloma turned, making her way to one of the stalls.
Deryn caught up to her again and, realizing that all the eyes of the vendors and the locals meandering around were focused their way, took her hand. The fingers in hers flinched from the unexpected touch, but a second later, they gripped back gently.
“Nice to see you too, Ms. Eileen. We’ll take two of these amazing-looking cinnamon rolls, please.” Paloma shook the plump hand of the still-staring matron, nodding at the rows of baked goods. Deryn winked at Greg, who had his ever-present cart nearby and stood silently, watching Paloma charm the townies.
For some reason, while it looked effortless, Deryn felt that it wasn’t. The fingers in hers twitched periodically, as if tired or uncomfortable. Still, Deryn tried not to interfere beyond the occasional smile and nod. She carried the cinnamon rolls that Paloma handed her and walked beside her, but largely stayed out of the fray. She really should have a conversation with Lachlan or Paloma herself about what the heck was expected of her at these things.
“So, Ms. Allende, are congratulations in order, then?” Marsha McMons grinned salaciously at their joined hands. The grip on Deryn’s fingers became one of steel as Marsha wiggled her eyebrows. “You two sure are the talk of the town!”
“And here you are again, Marsha, not minding your business.”
Both Deryn and Paloma turned in unison to witness Victoria, arms full of wrapped parcels—clearly having visited some of the produce and fish stalls—staring daggers at the dog groomer.
“Just trying to confirm what theCawreported. Since its sources can be iffy,” Marsha said, her sneer twisted maliciously.
There was a collective gasp. Greg dropped the sausage he was preparing, a bun still in hand, and a massive orange cat availed himself of the opportunity to pounce on it. Victoria gripped the wrapped fish tighter and opened her mouth, but Paloma beat her to it, trailing her fingers up Deryn’s forearm and settling on holding her elbow.
“The most reputableCrow’s Cawhas not led you astray, Ms. McMons. But while my finding joy in a relationship is an occasion for congratulations, the recent ban of over twenty additional titles by the town’s library is not. You are on the Board, ma’am…”
Paloma allowed the sentence to dangle for a moment. A moment where all eyes were suddenly on Marsha, who was turning beet red as the seconds passed. Deryn saw Victoria smirk and Greg bite his lip, no doubt to hide a smile of his own.
Paloma let everyone get their satisfaction and Marsha to squirm long enough before she released Deryn’s arm and took Marsha’s.
“How about I buy you one of those fancy cappuccinos at Crow’s Coffee, and we discuss what can be done to stop the anonymous challenges to our beloved library collection? Before long, it will be empty, and then where will we be? Did you know that in Florida, they challenged and even managed to ban romance novels?” There was another collective gasp, this time one that Marsha herself joined.
