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Morvoren shook her head. She didn’t wish to speak of anything at the moment, but she couldn’t prolong the inevitable any longer. That much had become clear today.

“I…I think perhaps I need to find work outside of St. Just.” She kept her head low as she spoke, not wishing to see Mrs. Honeysett’s reaction. “Golowduyn might be fine for a time, but I do believe Bodmin might be the better option for I.”

“Bodmin?” Surprise buoyed the woman’s voice, though she quickly checked her tone, nodding to show her support. “And-and what will ye do in Bodmin?”

“I’m not certain yet.” Actually, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be certain. Bodmin hardly sounded appealing, being nearly sixty miles away from Tristwick and landlocked in every direction.

“So ye don’t wish to work at Golowduyn, then? Or remain in Tristwick for the winter?”

Morvoren didn’t know what to say. “I was goin’ to stay, but…well, I was only supposed to remain ’ere for a short time anyway. And there’ll be more options for me future in a bigger city.”

Mrs. Honeysett nodded, falling silent.

Desperate to ease her own conscience, as well as to convince herself that what she was doing was right, Morvoren scooted forward on the bench to face Mrs. Honeysett more directly.

“I’d like to stay. Really I would. But I think it be time I give your family some space. A few more months of me wouldn’t do any of ye any good.”

Mrs. Honeysett rested her cheek against her daughter’s head, staring into the fire. “I know your stayin’ ’ere would be for Poppy’s and my benefit. So…might I safely assume ye be doin’ this for me son?”

Morvoren shook her head, quick to protest. But then, what other reason had she but the truth? Her shaking head slowly shifted to a single nod. “I just know me livin’ ’ere be upsettin’ ’im.”

“What makes ye say that?”

Because Morvoren had been nothing but a burden to him. A pebble in his boot. A windless night to his lugger. “I know his crew is havin’ trouble with my bein’ here still. He has enough to worry about without me stirrin’ up trouble, even if it be unintentionally.”

To her surprise, Mrs. Honeysett huffed out an impatient sigh. “It be them Cardys. Daft fools, they be.” She rested her shaking head against the back of the bench. “Destroyin’ other people’s ’appiness to secure their own. ’Tain’t right.”

Morvoren couldn’t agree more, but she couldn’t blame her own misgivings on the Cardys, no matter how she wanted to.

“In truth, they aren’t the only reason I’m leavin’,” she said in a whisper. “I told Trevik about my father earlier today, but I…I’d like to share more about him with ye.”

Mrs. Honeysett nodded, her eyes focusing on Morvoren.

After recounting what she’d told Trevik, Mrs. Honeysett listening to every word, Morvoren continued. “When his greed grew, it ruined my parent’s marriage. Seein’ that deteriorate, and me mother’s health after that, I promised myself I’d ne’er settle for a future of bein’ a fisherman’s wife.” She paused. “Your son is a wonderful man. And I don’t presume to think that he e’er, that he feels…” She shook her head, beginning again. “My leavin’ be for the best. The longer I spend here, the harder it’ll be for me when I have to leave. And I…” Emotion stuck in her throat. “I have to leave ’fore I grow more attached.”

Mrs. Honeysett was silent, her features downcast. “I understand. Truly, I do. ’Specially in regard to what ’appened with your father.” She drew a deep breath. “But I…I’ve ne’er seen me son take to someone as much as ’e’s taken to ye.”

Morvoren looked away with a disbelieving sniff. Poppy shifted at the noise, then settled deeper into her mother’s shoulder.

“It be true,” Mrs. Honeysett said more softly. “I’ve seen it. Things ’ave ’appened in Trevik’s past to make it ’ard for ’im to trust others. Terrible experiences with seiners and ’is father.”

Morvoren’s ears perked up. She longed to know more about the connection, but if she said a word about seiners, Mrs. Honeysett would surely be able to deduce Morvoren’s own connection to them.

“That was why ’e ’ad a difficult time with ye in the beginnin’,” Mrs. Honeysett continued. “’Cause o’ your need to ’ide the truth. But once ye were honest with ’im, once ye told ’im the truth ’bout where ye be from…” She paused, shaking her head. “Like I said, I’ve ne’er seen ’im take to someone more ’an with ye.”

The words should have secured Morvoren’s fate to remain in Tristwick for the rest of her life. After all, hearing that Trevik didn’t think of her as a burden, that he was truly happy with her presence there, was comforting beyond words.

And yet, she couldn’t set aside how he’d treated her in front of his crew that day, nor could she forget that she hadn’t been entirely honest with Trevik. Whatever had happened between him and the seining companies had been traumatic. How could she ever admit to the Honeysetts now that they’d been harboring a seiner’s niece under their very roof?

Her thoughts were interrupted as Mrs. Honeysett reached over, taking Morvoren’s hand in hers. “I don’t blame ye for your decision to keep away from the fishin’ trade,” she whispered. “And I’ll support ye no matter what ye decide. But remember, ye can’t control what others do, only what ye do. And sometimes, the risk o’ fishin’ in a storm be worth the rain that falls on ye, for the catch’ll be all the better.”

Mrs. Honeysett ended her words with a smile and another gentle squeeze to Morvoren’s hand, then she released her and replaced her arm over Poppy’s shoulder.

They sat together in silence then, listening to the fire snapping as the flames slowly died before them.

For so long, Morvoren had prayed for guidance from her mother, for the distance between heaven and earth to thin for just a moment so she might see Mother’s encouraging smile again, to feel her embrace just one more time.

How had it taken Morvoren so long to see that Mrs. Honeysett was that answer to her prayers?