Page 7 of Reckless

I leaned against the plinth and stared out at the black ocean. There was no moon tonight; the clouds were dark and low. Somewhere out near the horizon, the lights from a passing cargo ship poked holes in the darkness. The wind was picking up—a storm would break by morning. At least all the boats were in, ropes creaking as they pulled at the jetty, and all their hands were safely on shore. I’d head home in a few minutes—the bad weather was a perfect excuse to check the animals were all secure—and maybe clear my head on the walk. Sometimes I felt like I was the only person on the island who didn’t love Saturday nights at the old church. And then I remembered Elias Dinsmore, who never came into the village unless he could help it. I’d never be Dauntless Island’s most antisocial resident as long as he was still around.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the salt air.

“Hey.”

I jolted upright. Dr. Jones was standing in front of me, a drink in his hand. The faint light spilling out of the open church doors did nothing to illuminate his expression.

“You seemed a little awkward in there,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable.”

“I... this is how I always am.” Nice one, Robbie. Smooth.

“Oh.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Well, I just wanted you to know nothing that happens in my office ever leaves there, if that was a concern.”

I shrugged. “Not really.”

“Good.” He gave an uncertain smile. “You just took off pretty quickly.”

“I don’t really do people.”

“I’m a little out of practice myself.”

I doubted that. Anyone who could hold a conversation while jabbing a swab down someone’s dick had better people skills than I ever would. But I nodded.

“So what would you rather be doing tonight?” he asked, like he really was curious.

“Looking after my animals,” I said honestly, and he looked faintly surprised, as if he’d expected me to say, “Having anonymous sex with strangers.” That might have been my answer some of the time, but not all the time. And not tonight, with the storm coming. The cows and goats were already stabled, but when the wind got up it unsettled them, so I liked to do one last walkthrough before bed—rubbing noses and patting flanks just to let them know they were okay. It was probably stupid, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep well otherwise.

If the storm coming in was going to be a bad one, I left our old, disused shed open for the feral goats that wandered the island. Tipped some grain out for them to sweeten the deal, and let them get out of the weather while it lasted. It wasn’t all altruism—over the years, a few of them had joined my herd. Kat liked to say we weren’t running a retirement home for old goats, but she let it happen, just like I didn’t say anything about the way she kept some of the chickens that had stopped laying. Of course a few of them found their way onto our dinner table—some of the goats did too—but we were both a little soft-hearted when it came to our animals.

“What animals do you have?” Dr. Jones asked. I told him about the cows and the chickens and the goats—and about Sam, my favourite goat. I had no idea why, because I wasn’t a talker, but he’d asked the question in that quiet tone of his, and he listened as though he really wanted to know the answer. As though my job was as interesting and important as anyone else’s, even his.

“No dogs?” he asked when I got to the end of the list. “I’d have expected a farmer to have dogs.”

“Not much need for them,” I said. “No predators here on the island, and no need for any mustering. They all bring themselves into the shed when it’s time for milking, or to be put up in the bad weather.”

“Really?”

“Sometimes I have to go looking for them. Maybe one of them got lost and tangled up in the bushes somewhere, or maybe ran away to try and join the ferals, but that doesn’t happen very often.”

“How do you know where to look for them?”

I shrugged. “I know where they like to go.”

He looked at me intently in the darkness, and I had the strangest feeling, like I was a kid, and an adult was searching my expression to see if they could catch me in a lie. I fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny as I waited for his judgement.

“It sounds as though you have quite a bond with them.” He smiled, and my weird anxiety ebbed.

I shrugged again and glanced away, not sure if I could bear the weight of his curious gaze a second longer. It made my skin itch and feel two sizes too small. “I s’pose.”

The air seemed suddenly heavier, as though the storm was already here.

“How have you been?” he asked, as though you could just switch from talking about animals to gonorrhoea like that. Like it was just another topic of conversation. “Everything all cleared up?”

My face burned. I didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He shifted, and for a moment I thought he was going to leave without saying anything else. Then his hand landed lightly on my shoulder, and he squeezed. “Be safe, please.”

My chin jerked up and I met his gaze. “Yeah. I will.”