by Ann Aguirre
“That’s such basic knowledge that I’m embarrassed for you,” she told him pertly.
Morrow tickled her in response to that sass, and she squirmed with an abandon that led to other things. As he kissed the curve of her throat, she shivered and sighed. Then she pushed him away and combined their bedding. While he definitely wanted to be close to her, he also suspected she might be punishing him for being so sluggish at figuring things out.
“Is this wise?”
Millie opened her eyes at him in a look that no longer registered as innocent. Dear lord, he thought. She’s been teasing me for months.
“It’s practical,” she replied. “We won’t need to feed the fire as much if we’re generating our own heat.”
“Fine.”
He muffled a groan as she snuggled into the pallet beside him and drew up the covers. All sorts of objections cluttered his head, but at base, he didn’t really want to sleep alone. Morrow settled Millie against him and wrapped an arm around her. Since his mother had died, he couldn’t remember sleeping with anyone. His father was kind enough, but distant, which was probably why he’d taken refuge in stories.
“Tell me something about young James,” she whispered, settling in.
This … this is fantastic.
He wanted a lot more than sleep, but it was too soon. So he said, “I suppose I was lonely. The governor as my father meant I got a lot of respect, but the other children tended to be nervous when I wanted to play. I eventually stopped asking, and I just read instead.”
Millie laughed. “Oh, you adorable dolt. That’s your sad story?”
Stung, he muttered, “Stop laughing. And … my mother died when I was young.”
“Of illness?”
“That’s what I’m told. I don’t remember.”
Millie kissed his temple. “No wonder you’re confused. For everyone else, the world is devastating and dangerous. For you, it’s lonely.”
“Things were much worse outside Rosemere. I know that. I saw it when I went to the ruins on the other side of the river.”
“But … my darling James, knowing isn’t enough. For you, the ruins were an adventure. To someone else, it was a hell they couldn’t escape, and they probably didn’t even know it could be better elsewhere.”
There’s no doubt she means Tegan.
The words cracked his mind open with such force that he understood so many things now. Too late for it to do any good now. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m such a child.”
“A little, perhaps. But it’s also marvelous that you had a chance to be. Most of us didn’t. You shouldn’t regret the sweetness of your life or the richness of your luck.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Saving me. Nobody’s ever talked to me like this … and it’s exactly what I need.”
“Well, you are the governor’s son.” But she softened the sting with a kiss, and then another, until he no longer minded hearing such truths.
In the morning he woke to a foot in his ribs. “I thought you weren’t going to bother her.”
Cracking an eye open, he found Devi standing over him. He flushed. “I—”
“Didn’t.” Millie sighed as she rolled out of the blankets. “I am supremely unbothered. However, I’m wondering where we can stay for the winter. I don’t imagine you want strangers on your floor for several months.”
Evette turned from stirring the porridge and gestured with a wooden spoon. “It’s not for our sake, dear. You’ll soon tire of not having a room of your own. But the matter’s much simpler if we’re only seeking one spare, not two. Is that so?”
Morrow wouldn’t have spoken so boldly, but it was endearing when Millie did. “Most definitely. I can help with cooking and cleaning for our keep.”
As if I’d let you support me.
He scowled. “I’m sure I can find work as well.”
Her smirk practically scraped his skin down to the raw nerves. “No doubt. Do you reckon they’d pay you to teach sword fighting? Or maybe storytelling…?”
She thinks I’m useless.
It didn’t cool his anger that she had a point. As he balled up a fist, Devi said soothingly, “Don’t squabble before breakfast, little ones. You’ll get indigestion.”
“I’m not,” Millie said in a placid tone. “But you know men and their pride.”
Both Devi and Evette nodded, and the latter said knowingly, “Men.”
Outnumbered and feeling it, he mumbled, “Where is Sung Ji?”
Devi laughed as she set bowls on the table. “You won’t see him or Advika for a day or two. There’s a limit to how much fun they can have on board a ship, so we just set food and water outside the door.”
“Once they broke the bed,” Evette added.
Morrow’s whole face caught fire, but Millie gazed down the hall in wicked delight. “Say it’s not so?” But her expression begged for confirmation.
Morrow bolted to his feet and donned his winter gear as fast as he could wrap up, unsure what was worse—that he’d soon be privy to some noisy bed games or this conversation about it. Either way, exploring Baybridge offered the least potential for additional humiliation. Engrossed in her chat, Millie showed no signs of wanting to follow him, as she used to.
“What about breakfast?” Devi asked.
“I’ll find something. Good day, ladies.”
With that, he hurried into the lightly falling snow. The village sprawled before him, built into the rolling hills above the water. Crisp and cold, the air smelled faintly of the sea, but there was also smoke from so many chimneys and a molten tang that reminded him of the smithy in Rosemere. Cottages lined the road down into town proper, most whitewashed and built of quarried stone, but others were weathered wood or even what looked like earthen brick, now grown over green, brown-turned in the season, and soon to be frosted white. It was too cold for an open market, but Morrow spied a large building that seemed to serve the same function, and there were more public houses than he’d seen even in Peckinpaugh.
Morrow walked until his chagrin had cooled, but that proved useful when he spotted a sign in the window that read SCHOOL TEACHER WANTED—INQUIRE WITHIN. A tinkling bell announced his entry. The shop smelled of dried herbs and camphor, but it was also deliciously warm. He stamped the wet off his boots and glanced around, intrigued by the oddments that had been bottled. An impressive selection of dead insects lined one shelf, and another seemed to be withered parts; he recognized the chicken feet, but the rest eluded him.
A small man came out from the back, two gray-caterpillar brows dancing above deep-set eyes. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here about the job,” Morrow said, trying not to stare.
“Ah yes. Have you taught children before?”
“No. But I’m highly lettered. I’ve even written—”
“Never mind then. In this line of work, it’s more important to be kind than clever.”
“How do you know I’m not both? And how many applicants have you had, anyway? The Catalina barely made it to port this late in the year.” Aware he sounded contentious, he couldn’t back off what might be the only suitable work in town.
“True, true. I’m Lionel Fairstone, the apothecary, also the administrator in charge of education in Baybridge. We have a three-room school, you know.” Fairstone said this as if Morrow must realize it was impressive.
He did. Rosemere educated all the children at once while some settlements left learning to the parents. In those cases, the little ones rarely learned to read or write because there were animals to tend and hunt, endless washing, crops to cultivate, and work that never paused for dreaming. To one who loved books as he did, that seemed like a diabolical shame.
“So I would be working with two others. Then … ask me some questions, get a feel for my personality. And if you like what you learn, I could work on a trial basis under the supervision of my colleagues.”
“You’re well spoken,” the other ma
n admitted. “Very well, tell me about yourself.”
So Morrow did. He spoke of Rosemere, growing up as the governor’s son, the war down south and his role in Company D, and finally the adventures, losses, and gains that led him to Baybridge. By this point, his stomach was rumbling, so it seemed reasonable to accept Fairstone’s offer of toast and tea. The administrator then quizzed him with some potential disciplinary situations to see how he’d handle them. At the end of the interview, Fairstone offered a hearty handshake.
“Welcome aboard, sir. You’ll do well for our children. We can’t pay much, but the job comes with room and board. There are three small cottages adjacent to the school.”
“Perfect. But I feel I must be clear.… I’ll likely be sailing in the spring. There’s a girl my father must meet before I can formally offer her my heart.”
“Then we’ll take those four months gladly and hope that providence replaces you.”
They talked a little longer, and then Morrow followed him out of the shop. Fairstone flipped the sign and wrote, BACK IN TEN MINUTES, then he led the way to the school for a short tour, as it was really just a house that had been repurposed for education. The teacher cottages were small, as stated, especially compared to his home on Rosemere, but as he turned in place, he imagined living here with Millie. There was a padded settee before the fireplace and a stove for cooking, and a room devoted just to washing up. People lived much worse in Otterburn, so she’d surely be delighted.
And I did this for us.
“It’s all right if someone lives here with me?” It seemed best to check.
“The girl you mentioned before?”
He nodded.
“I have no objections. As long as you do your work reliably, your life is your own to arrange as you see fit.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll report tomorrow, bright and early.”
Morrow raced through town, slipping on the snow, and didn’t pause for breath until he reached Devi and Evette’s house. Unsure if he should knock, he rapped twice and ran in, at first wheezing too hard to get his news out. The women stared at him in alarm and pelted him with questions. But soon he shared his good tidings, and Devi poured homemade elderberry wine.
She raised her cup in a toast. “Well done, sir. In time I would’ve asked around, but you were too quick.”
Millie caught Evette’s eye and grinned. “Told you goading him would work.”
He choked on his wine and spluttered, “You … you were teasing me? On purpose?’
“A little. But don’t be glum; we’ve got a place to stay this winter. I’ll keep it clean and have dinner on when you get home.”
That sounded too lovely for him to sulk. So he drank until he shouldn’t anymore, since he was starting a new job in the morning. Morrow did notice that neither Sung Ji nor Captain Advika emerged before he and Millie set out for their own house the next day. What a sweet ring to those words. When they arrived, someone had stocked the shelves with bread and cheese, dried meat, and various staples. Millie kissed him good-bye and shooed him out the door.
At first the children were obstreperous, but he quickly learned that if he could turn a lecture into a story, they focused much better. All told, holding their attention wasn’t that much different from entertaining a bunch of drunken men. He found he liked it, and he especially enjoyed when a child’s face lit with understanding. And at the end of each day, Millie waited for him, as promised, with a hot meal.
They made friends in town and visited often with Devi and Evette, Advika and Sung Ji, over cheerful meals and silly games that James had never been invited to play, like Forfeits, Lookabout, Fox and Geese, but his favorite by far must have been Throwing the Smile, for the moment he locked eyes with Millie, she beamed like a beacon, and he always won. In truth, the winter months flew. It seemed as if he slept once, twice, snuggled up with this wondrous girl, and then suddenly the sun came back again.
On his last day at school, his students cried, and he did, too, though he pretended to have something in his eye. Millie had their bags packed, not that they had accumulated much. Most of it, they left in the cottage in case the next teacher could make use of it. Lionel Fairstone had a party for him at the Limping Dog, well attended by parents and pupils alike. People toasted him and spoke of gratitude and never once asked him to tell a story.
Here, I was more than the governor’s studious son. I made my own way this time.
Afterward, Millie hugged him from behind, where he stood gazing out the cottage window at the darkened schoolhouse. “James … I’m happy here. And I know you are, too. We could just … stay.”
Smiling, he shook his head.
“Why not?” She bristled and tugged on his arm until he faced her.
She thinks I mean to search for Tegan. Or spend my life on something else, perhaps salvaging old books, while she grows old waiting for me.
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly; cheeks, chin, nose, brow, and finally lips, where he lingered long enough nearly to forget what he intended to say. “Because you must first come to Rosemere, and I must go to Winterville. Next year, if you want to come … and stay, maybe bring your parents with us, then I’ll have no objections.”
When Millie parsed his words, she pounced; they didn’t sleep much that night.
In the morning they barely made the Catalina before it set sail. Millie headed for the infirmary with their things, and he made himself useful. As he helped the first mate, Morrow avoided Sung Ji’s teasing gaze.
“Hope you celebrated well. There’s not much privacy on board, and subbing as our medic, Millie’s in great demand. The whole crew speaks so fondly of her gentle hands.”
Part of Morrow’s brain filled with lightning, but he choked it down. “How sad for them. Talking’s all they’ll ever get to do with her.”
Sung Ji laughed, adjusting the sails. “You’ve got it bad, son.”
“I know. But … you said subbing. Does that mean you think Dr. Tegan might come back to work someday?”
The other man shrugged. “The sea is a strange mistress. Sometimes she gives; sometimes she takes. Until I know for sure, I always wait and hope.”
Love Never Leaves
As Tegan pinned the laundry to the line, Lucilla ran down the path toward her. Smiling, she caught the girl and lifted her for a proper hug. “You’re late today.”
“I came as soon as I could. Auntie Mara needs my help a lot.”
“True.” She kissed Lucilla’s forehead and then set her down to finish her work.
The little girl handed her clothing from the basket piece by piece, until it was all drying beneath the warm sun. “You’ll never guess what happened.”
“Peter pulled your hair.”
“He always does that.”
“Ate your sticky bun?”
Lucilla sighed. “That, too. No, this is important.”
“Oh. Sorry.” She smothered a smile. “By all means, tell me.”
“That ship you told me about … the Catalina? It’s finally here!”
Stunned, Tegan dropped her basket. Without another word, she took off running, Lucilla close behind her. They raced to the docks, and she recognized the ship currently being unloaded. To a nearby dockworker’s dismay, she climbed on top of a crate for a better look. Sure enough, she spotted Captain Advika and Sung Ji on deck, preparing to disembark.
Millie and James must be here, too.
She hopped down without regard for her weak leg and pushed past the workers to dash up the gangplank. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much she wanted to see all of them again. Good-byes had been such a permanent part of her existence that once someone went—or she did—she tried not to think of them again. Most days yearning seemed like another word for weakness. In her life, only one person ever lasted through her attempts to forget and cut him out.
“Are these your friends?” Lucilla asked.
“They are.”
It’s true.
She’
d resisted roots like they might strangle her, but now happy tears ran down her cheeks. “Captain. Captain!”
The older woman whirled and then sprinted toward her, her smile giddy, eyes gleaming. She hugged Tegan, or vice versa, and then the first mate joined in. Soon everyone on deck was shouting, until James and Millie emerged from below. Morrow stopped cold and just … stared. Tegan smiled at him, tentatively, because this felt like the first meeting of a new life. The months had been good to him. With sun-kissed cheeks and sparkling eyes, James looked … happy, for want of a better word. He’d also put on muscle working aboard the ship. As for Millie, she, too, radiated joy, though her expression faded to shock on spotting Tegan.
“You’re alive,” James said hoarsely.
Captain Advika let go of her, and Sung Ji stepped back. In moments James had her in his arms, but it was a different sort of hug than he’d offered before. Hard to quantify the difference, but his hold was firm, and his touch didn’t linger. He eased her to arm’s length to scrutinize her.
“Last I checked.” She smiled a bit.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t save you.”
“That wasn’t your role,” she told him gently. “I never wanted you to save me. Mostly I wished to be someone people trusted to save herself.”
A nod told her that he understood. “Still, I’m unspeakably relieved.”
Next, Tegan turned to Millie and gave the girl a longer embrace; they’d set out together, after all, and she’d followed someone else into the sea. “I’m glad to see you both.”
Beaming, Millie kissed her cheek. “You look well.”
“I told you.” Nudging James, Sung Ji seemed really pleased with himself.
James nodded. “Always wait and hope. That’s my new motto.”
“What happened?” Millie asked.
There was far too much mutual news to share while standing on the ship’s deck, so Tegan picked up Lucilla, who was anxiously tugging on her sleeve. “When you have time, come to Khamish’s place.” She asked Advika, “You know where it is?”
“Certainly. James and Millie can go with you now. Once we wrap up here, Sung Ji and I will be along.”
