Page 36 of Bane Bloom

Now the tears came hot and fast. In my mind I saw the pale figure in yellow. I imagined little Prudence at her side, falling apart while a stranger tried to hold her together. I could scarcely imagine her pain. Or what it had felt like to be so loved by her mother that she’d lost her life trying to save Prudence.

There came a noise very close to my ear, and I let out a startled cry. This was followed by a whinny and the sound of stones grinding. I glanced up to discover that the white horse I’d seen earlier had joined me on the beach. My sudden cry had caused him to falter back a couple of steps. But now he stepped gingerly closer.

I’d never seen a coat so white. He had a long and lustrous white mane, too, and white feathering at his hooves. His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and I could see that even they were light in color.

When he reached me, his head came down slowly, and he huffed warmly into my hair.

I let out a hoarse laugh. “You’re real, anyway.”

I held up my palm, and he snuffled into it, velvet lips and chin whiskers tickling my skin. “Where do you belong, lovely? If I was your owner, I’d be worrying about you.”

He bobbed his head and blew again through his great nostrils.

I got slowly to my feet, and once the feeling had come back to them, I stepped to the water’s edge. The horse followed and drew up beside me. Together we gazed out over the glassy lake, and it was a comfort not to be alone. I reached out slowly and touched his neck. His coat was surprisingly soft, the muscle firm underneath, and he was very warm. I cast him a sidelong glance, afraid he would leave at any moment, and he let out a nicker.

A smile spread over my face. “I’m pleased to meet you, sir. I wonder what your name could be?”

His head dipped low again, and he snuffed at the water before sucking it through his lips.

“Perhaps I’ll give you one. You’re a ghostly thing, prowling around in the darkness. Will you answer to ‘Phantom’?”

My new friend’s only reply was to paw at his reflection in the water, which made me laugh again. He gave his head a great shake, and then he waded slowly into the lake.

“A midnight swim, is it?”

I’d been joking, but he whickered and waded out farther. Soon his powerful legs were churning water. I watched him glide away from the shoreline, only his head and neck visible above the surface, wondering if this was typical horse behavior. He was soon out farther than my eyes could follow.

What could have brought him to Pine Cottage? Maybe he’d remembered me from my earlier visit to the stream and come to investigate. I thought he must belong to a neighboring farm, though even to my untrained eye, it seemed an animal like that would be worth too much money to let wander.

Regardless, the encounter had done me good, shaking me out of spiraling despair.

Chin up, my girl. You are equal to this. If Thomas could grow up here with his faculties intact, I could certainly get through a few weeks.

And as for Thomas’s unexplained disappearance, he was under no obligation to keep me apprised of his activities. People got up to all sorts of things under a full moon, or so some of the novels I read would have one believe.

Maybe he has a sweetheart nearby.

My heart gave an odd stumble at the thought.

He’d no doubt reappear by morning, his same old grumpy, imposing, yet increasingly interesting self.

Calmer now, I began to feel the cold. I turned and walked back to the hut to collect my candlestick before returning to the house.

With no chirp of my watch to wake me, I slept until the downstairs clock struck eight. I rose stiffly from bed, parts of my body sore that I didn’t think ever had been before. That comes from half drowning, I suppose.

Or being hauled out of the water by a Viking.

Eager to determine whether the Viking had returned, I got up and went to the window. Smoke puffed from the chimney of Thomas’s hut, and I felt a great welling of relief. I watched his window until I caught some glimpses of movement inside and then drew away before he could catch me spying.

I was hungry after sleeping in, but I dressed for the day before going downstairs in case Thomas should come into the house. (Hoping Thomas would come into the house.)

I thought again of the woman I’d seen on the beach, and in the light of day, it all felt like a dream. It had been very late, and I’d just made a connection between Prudence’s mother and the mandrake. Thomas was stirring up very raw feelings around my mother’s abandonment. And when I’d gone out, there was clearly nothing there. The house was affecting me, as Thomas had warned me it would. In deciding to stay, I had to accept and be ready for that.

On my way to the kitchen, I paused at the foot of the stairs for my shawl, and the entry table, with its pile of treasures, happened to catch my eye. Something new and familiar lay among the collected objects. My watch.

Hadn’t I left it in my room? I was almost sure of it, yet perhaps not. Quite a lot had happened since then. I picked it up and held it to my ear; my memory hadn’t failed me about the fact that it no longer worked. Sighing, I slipped it into a pocket and went on to the kitchen.

I found the stove cold and worked to get the fire going. I’d done this at home sometimes, when Nancy was ill or had family obligations, and it took me only a few minutes, but it would be a while before it put off enough heat to scramble eggs and toast bread. I picked up the empty bucket and stepped out to fetch water from the well.