It’s truly amazing that something so small can bring so much hope and joy in the direst circumstances.
“I want to thank you for taking care of me. Keeping me safe.” If only I knew how to return the favor. When we reach Rosehill, I’m going to bake him as many blueberry pies as his heart desires.
“Caring for you is a great honor, Nia Quill.”
I’m not so sure about that. This trek would certainly be faster if he were on his own—probably easier as well. Still, I’m grateful for his company. And his resourcefulness.
I think back to the day I found him struggling to open that bottle of wine.
He always seemed so out of place in Rosehill, easily distracted by the smallest things. Here, he is clearly in his element. It’s impressive. Undeniably attractive.
Just what I need—yet another reason to be drawn to Maddox Finch.
“I almost forgot.” He drags over his rucksack and starts combing through its contents. After a few moments of searching, he withdraws a small brown object. “I found this for you.”
I accept the gift, smoothing my thumb over the oblong brown pebble. “You found me a stone?” Is this an Unseelie courting custom I don’t know about? The thought doesn’t distress me as much as it once did.
I wouldn’t mind being officially courted by Maddox.
He kneels next to me, the excitement on his face catching. “Turn it over.”
Would you look at that? Someone—Maddox, I assume—painted a fish on the other side.
“When I found it, I thought it looked like a trout,” he says.
“It really does.” Even has the fluted tail and a crease where the fins go. “When did you find this?” Surely not this morning. Unless he carries paint in that rucksack of his.
The color of his ears deepens. “I came across this on one of our hunting trails and thought of you and your desire to be a trout of the lake.”
This might be the sweetest present anyone has ever given me. Certainly the most thoughtful.
“It is only a silly stone. You may throw it back in the river if you do not wish to keep it.”
Is he mad? My fist tightens around the beautiful treasure. “Of course I’m going to keep it. I love it, Maddox.”
He glances away, but not before I catch sight of his grin.
After another day of walking hand-in-hand and eating fish for every meal, the river’s banks expand from stones to thick green brush dotted with plump purple berries. My skirts, which have finally dried, flutter against my shins as I jog toward those beautiful bushes, excitement expanding in my heart like rising bread dough.
If these are what I think they are, they’ll make a wonderful dessert.
I snag one and lift it up toward what little light there is in this giant crevice. The color isn’t quite as deep as it should be. I think.
Curse it all. Why didn’t I study harder in botany?
Probably because the closest I ever got to harvesting crops was stealing a few black raspberries from our neighbor’s hedge. Everything I needed could be purchased in a shop. I never anticipated being stranded at the bottom of the bloody Divide.
Maddox gives the broad leaves a shake, and a few drop off into his palm. “What are these?”
“Bonny berries. Maybe. Or Pilton berries.” The former makes excellent jam. The latter could kill you stone dead. “I don’t know if they’re poisonous or not.” Although it kills me to do so, it’s best to err on the side of caution and leave them behind. There are bound to be more bushes with fruit I can identify. If not, I’ll eat my weight in berries when we reach Rosehill.
Maddox rolls one between two large green fingers, then pops it straight into his mouth.
“Maddox!” Did he not hear me say it could be poisonous? I thought the Unseelie had exceptional hearing. I catch his jaw and try to pry it open to no avail. “Spit that out right this minute.”
Does he listen? Of course not. He chews once, then swallows it straight down.
“Have you lost your mind? You could die.”
