“Larran’s father knocked his mother down the stairs,” Eadie said. “She hit her head. Later, he told everyone that he didn’t mean it. Shouted in the street that he couldn’t have helped himself, that he felt what he felt, and he didn’t intend to hurt her . . .”
“A few days later, he took his boat out, and it drifted back to shore empty,” Ulina said. “His body later washed up on the rocks. We don’t know if it was an accident or intentional, but at age thirteen, Larran became an orphan. A merhorse herder took him in, but only a handful of years later . . . there was a sudden storm, and he drowned. Larran was the one who found him, tried to save him, but he was past saving.” She sighed heavily.
“Boy has seen a lot of bad things,” Eadie said. “He’s worked hard to be the very opposite of his parents in every way, but he’s careful with his heart. Never lets himself become close to anyone.”
“Until you,” Bryn said with a smile.
Kiela shook her head. He’d been through so much . . .Poor Larran.But surely,shewasn’t the first person he’d cared about. She didn’t even know if he did care about her. All they’d had were a few moments. He’d been kind to her because of Sian. He felt gratitude and maybe friendship.It could have become more, if I could have stayed. But I can’t.“He doesn’t . . . We’re not . . .”
“You can hear it when he talks about you,” Bryn said.
Kiela blinked at her. “He talks about me?”
“He comes for a cinnamon roll nearly every morning,” Bryn said. “He’s mentioned you every single time. Often it’s a stray thought, like wondering whether you saw the sunrise, whether you like tomato sandwiches, or how you feel about merhorses, but I can tell you that he’s never acted like this before.”
Eadie rapped her knuckles on the table. “We’re not saying you should stay because our boy is sad and needs fixing. Gah, that would be a terrible reason. Never think you need to fix a lover. You should stay because there’s a chance you two could make each other happy, and that’s a special thing.”
“It’s worth taking a risk,” Ulina said.
“I can’t endanger everyone,” Kiela said. “Not for a relationship that may or may not exist, that may never be anything. You all could be reading into what isn’t there.”
“Then talk to him,” Bryn said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
“Unless you were planning to leave immediately?” Ulina asked.
“I don’t recommend that, if you want to avoid raising Radane’s suspicions,” Eadie said. “You don’t want her chasing you. So, go talk to Larran. Bring him something from your garden—that way, no one will question your visit.” She smiled. “Talk to him, and see if you’ve a reason to stay.”
“Besides us, of course,” Bryn said, refilling everyone’s teacups. “Obviously, we’re an excellent reason to stay, but if you need additional motivation . . .”
Ulina grinned at her. “He does have nice eyes.”
The other two women nodded.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Carrying a basket of tomatoes, Kiela picked her way down the cliff stairs. The sea breeze was playful today, dancing through her blue hair and tickling her neck. All the pink roses were in bloom, and their scent was heavy in the air, tinged with the ever-present scent of seaweed that had been soaking in the sun. She remembered her father had hated that smell—overcooked salad,he’d called it—but she thought it smelled wonderful.It smells like summer.With the cloudless blue overhead, it was hard to believe that anything awful could ever happen here.
Like what Larran’s father did.
She reached the beach and, shielding her eyes, looked out toward the end of the jetty.Bryn, Eadie, and Ulina are wrong. He doesn’t need me.He had his merhorses. He had friends. He knew nearly every islander. She wasn’t anything special to him.
Out in the waves, Larran rode on the back of a golden merhorse. Spray flew all around them, sparkling in the air. He was turned away from her, but she saw the shape of his shoulders and the muscles on his arms as he steered Sian into the breaking foam of a swell.
Kiela drew a tomato out of her basket and held it in the air. She didn’t know if the merhorse could come out of the water—did they beach themselves like walruses? How much time could they spend out of the water? Did they like it? She’d have to ask Larran, after she convinced him there was nothing between them and therefore she wasn’t ruining any potential future by fleeing. Or . . . maybe she should start with questions about merhorse behavior.
She heard him shout, startled, as Sian charged toward the shore.
He saw her a second later, and she couldn’t help but smile—he was smiling, his hand raised in a wave, as Sian leapt through the waves to the shore. Kiela kicked off her boots and waded into the shallows. She’d worn her favorite of her mother’s old island dresses, the one with the soft white bodice and a blue patchwork skirt with silver thread. She hiked her skirt up to her knees to keep the silver-ribbon hem from being soaked. Today the water was as warm as breath.
Sian plucked the tomato out of her hand and then stuck her head into the basket. Kiela laughed. “Sorry, is it okay—” she asked as Larran said, “Thank you for bringing her a treat.”
“Thankyoufor—” She cut herself off and glanced at his house. “For yesterday.” It was safer to not be more specific than that.
“She’s not here,” Larran said firmly. “We never . . . That is, she was never in my bed, except for that first night, when she was unconscious, but after she woke . . .” He repeated, “She’s not here and hasn’t been here for a while. I just want to be clear about that.”
He hadn’t welcomed her back, and she wasn’t sharing his bed. He’d chosen Kiela’s side, despite the fact that she’d clearly broken the law and endangered all her new friends. “Thank you,” Kiela said again, as if those two words could encompass everything.
“Of course,” he said, as if those two words explained everything.
