Page 27

“Evenin’,” Mrs. Honeysett said as more eyes fell on them. She wrapped a supportive arm around Morvoren’s waist and continued. “This be Morvoren ’Ollow, the lovely woman our boys pulled from the sea.”

Morvoren didn’t miss the subtle emphasis on the word ‘woman.’

A few responded with easy smiles and kind words as they expressed their hopes for Morvoren’s injuries to improve, but a hearty handful of men and women remained silent, only offering a single, stiff nod in greeting.

“Come,” Mrs. Honeysett said softly as the rest of the group went about mingling with others, “we’ll find ye a place to rest your foot.” Then she added in a whisper, “And a place where ye won’t be gawped at so greatly.”

Morvoren was led forward to a large tree trunk laid flat near the fire, and she settled down with a stifled sigh, the pressure on her foot instantly lessening.

“Now rest ’ere,” Mrs. Honeysett instructed. “I’ll return shortly with a plate o’ food for ye.”

As Mrs. Honeysett left her alone, a rush of nerves clambered over Morvoren. More stares were sent her way, including a scowl by one woman with a thick set of shoulders and a grim stretch of her lips.

They were suspicious of her, afraid she truly was a mermaid. And though Morvoren couldn’t blame them for making such an assumption, she also didn’t appreciate being watched as if she would call upon the powers of the sea to destroy Tristwick in a heartbeat.

Then again, did they simply mistrust her because of their superstitions, or had Mr. Honeysett spoken to them about her lies?

With leveling breaths, she faced the sea’s waves gently lapping at the sand. The clouds had finally given way that evening, allowing the sun a final peek at the earth as it began its descent toward the sea. The water reflected the sunshine in a blinding, white light that lingered behind her eyelids each time she blinked.

Morvoren lived for moments like these. Too long had passed since she’d experienced one. The fire crackling nearby, the gentle waves of an outgoing tide rumbling before her, the soft hum of pleasant conversation.

If she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was a child again. The condemning stares from others were actually smiles from Mother and Father as they sat around their fire, oysters roasting over the warm flames.

Those had been special moments. Memorable, perfect moments. Before Father had been seduced by Uncle’s promises and Mother had gotten sick.

Morvoren opened her eyes, staring more intently at the water as it slid up the darkened sand. She forced aside the unpleasant memories that always invaded her warm thoughts like a band of ruthless fiends.

How she wished her memories could only be happy ones.

“You must be Morvoren Hollow.”

Morvoren drew her attention away from the sea and glanced up to see who’d spoken to her. A man with an easy smile approached, accompanied by a woman with red hair.

“Yes, I…I am,” she stammered, unease rising in her chest like a burgeoning weed. The man had spoken with a proper tongue. He couldn’t be a fisherman, could he? “And ye are…”

“Gavin Kendricks,” he said. Then he motioned to the woman beside him, a spattering of freckles across her nose. “And this is my wife, Mrs. Abigail Kendricks. The Honeysetts occasionally work for us at Golowduyn Lighthouse.”

Just like that, relief plucked the weed of worry straight from her heart. She smiled up at the couple, remembering their names from the Honeysetts at dinner the night before. “Pleasure to meet ye both.”

“And you,” Mrs. Kendricks said softly, averting her gaze in a shy manner. “Mrs. Honeysett has told Captain Kendricks and I what you’ve had to endure. I do hope you are feeling better.”

“Yes, I be much better, thank…ye.” Morvoren’s words faltered, her eye catching Mr. Honeysett’s as he crossed the beach toward the gathering.

She had been more than shocked when he’d been the one to invite her to the party that evening, and she still hadn’t guessed his angle.

Instantly, Mr. Honeysett looked away from her, turning his attention to the woman who walked beside him. She didn’t look much older than Morvoren’s twenty years, her brown hair tied in a loose bun at the back of her head. The woman smiled up at Mr. Honeysett with a coy expression, the admiration clear in her eyes. So Trevik had a sweetheart, did he?

“Mrs. Honeysett also told us that you wish to get to Sennen.”

Morvoren blinked, redirecting her attention back to Captain Kendricks. “Yes, that be right.”

The captain shared a glance with his wife. “Well, Mrs. Kendricks and I have been thinking about your circumstances and would love to help you in any way we can. That being said, we’d like to offer you and the Honeysetts the use of our wagon so that you may return to Sennen sooner.”

Morvoren’s lips parted, her heart rising as if with the tide. “Truly?”

Mrs. Kendricks nodded. “We won’t be able to lend you use of it until Saturday. We know that isn’t a great deal closer than Monday, but…”

Her words trailed off as Morvoren shook her head. “No, that be wonderful. How can I ever thank ye?”