Page 37 of Bane Bloom

As I rounded the back corner of the house, I tried—and mostly succeeded—to not look in the direction of Thomas’s hut.

But as I was drawing the roped bucket up from the well, I heard, “I’ll do that, Miss Gray.”

My heart stuttered as I watched him approach. “I thought you were going to call me Catherine,” I said peaceably.

He avoided my gaze as he took hold of the crank, his warm fingers brushing mine as I let it go.

“Or Cathy, if Catherine seems too formal.” Keeping my eyes on his face—and allowing a hint of mischief into my tone—I added, “If it won’t feel like you’re enabling me to remain stuck in my childhood.”

His habitual frown deepened. “It wasn’t my place to say such a thing.”

“No,” I said, laughing nervously, “it certainly wasn’t. But I’ll use it as an excuse to ask you something that’s not my place.”

At last he looked at me, still holding the crank, full bucket poised over the well.

“Where were you last night?” I said more soberly. “I was worried something had happened to you.”

His narrowed gaze held mine, and I could feel my heart’s staccato rhythm. Finally he reached out for the bucket and began filling the empty one. “Was there something you needed me for?”

My eyes following a water droplet that slid down his tan forearm toward the bucket, I said, “Well no, I just . . .” Was lonely? Was frightened? Had started to worry he wasn’t real?

Heat spread over my cheeks, and I sighed. “It’s not important. I’m glad you’re back.”

His grunt suggested he was dubious. He lifted the filled bucket, and we started back toward the kitchen. I noticed with satisfaction that he was sloshing water, too, though not as much as I had.

“I was out on the beach last night while you were gone,” I said. “I saw the most beautiful horse. He was white as icing sugar, and sweet, too. He came right up to me and even let me touch him. I wondered whether he might belong to a neighbor.”

Thomas frowned. “I haven’t seen him. Likely he’s one of the fell ponies.”

I eyed him, my curiosity raised. “Fell ponies. You mean he lives up in the hills? He’s wild?”

“The workhorses in the Lake Country are mostly fell ponies, but there are still some that roam free.”

“Well, that’s rather wonderful. We don’t have wild ponies in London. But he was very friendly, and not at all afraid of me. Is that usual?”

Thomas shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe he took a liking to you.”

It surprised me how this warmed me all over. I think because it suggested Thomas thought I was likable.

Smiling, I said, “I quite liked him as well.”

Thomas made no reply to this, and after a moment I said, “Do you know what else? After the two of us finished our chat, he went right into the lake. Swam off like a duck. Is that usual?”

Brows knitting, he replied, “I wouldn’t think so. Though a horse can swim as well as any other creature.”

I frowned. “Maybe not any other.”

He made a breathy sound that was not one of his customary noises, and when I looked at him, I saw a smile. Crinkles, even, at the corners of his eyes. His return had lifted my spirits immensely, even more than Phantom had. How starved I must be for human companionship!

We’d made it round to the kitchen steps, and he set the bucket down. I expected him to make his escape, but he hesitated a moment and finally met my gaze. I was standing on the topmost of the three steps, and I didn’t have to crane my neck quite so far to look at him.

At the same time, it felt more intimate, and I found I was holding my breath.

“I need some things from the village and thought to go there around the noon hour,” he said. His eyes briefly moved over my face, causing a sudden falling sensation low in my belly. My hand made an involuntary motion toward a nonexistent rail before pressing back to my side. He continued, “I could take you along if you want to get away from the house for a while.”

A bird swooped just over our heads, letting out a stream of cheerful notes, and Thomas’s eyes followed. Finally I remembered to breathe.

His unexpected consideration tugged at my heart. Though I supposed he might have asked because he didn’t like the idea of me remaining here without him, as he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on me. But any concerns of that nature hadn’t stopped him from disappearing last night. It now occurred to me—he’d thoroughly ducked my question about that. But then I’d really had no business asking.