Page 11 of A Land So Wide
Ellis licked his lips. “They’re making her run in the Hunt.”
“But…that can’t be right.”
Ellis shrugged helplessly.
“Oh, Louise…” She studied Ellis, unsure how to read his expression. “We don’t know she’ll be found,” she began tentatively, trying to think of something hopeful to say. “She always was the best at hide-and-seek.”
A corner of Ellis’s mouth lifted, but it was a far cry from his usual smile.
“But if she is caught…we’ll be together,” Greer assured him. “You and me. We’ll take care of Mary. The twins, little Norah, everyone. We won’t be far away.”
For the past year, Ellis had been preparing a cabin for the two of them, building it on the back half of the Beaufort land. With the Hunt only a few weeks away, it was nearly complete, but Ellis insisted it remain a secret till after the Hunt and Joining Ceremony. He wanted the first time Greer saw it to be when she was carried over the threshold as his bride.
He nodded now, looking appeased. “Don’t let her bad mood trouble you. I’m sure she didn’t mean whatever she said, and one offering won’t make a difference anyway.”
“Martha and I picked a bumper crop of blackberries yesterday,” Greer began thoughtfully. “Perhaps I could bring some over before the barn warming…”
“Not tonight,” he warned. “Give her time to stew. But tomorrow, that would be a kindness I know she’d appreciate—as would I. Nothing beats Martha Kingston’s jam,” he added cheerfully. The matter was—in his mind—laid to rest.
He was so unlike her.
Whereas Greer was prone to fits of worry, endlessly fretting overmistakes real or perceived, Ellis was fast to forgive, and just as quick to forget. He reminded her of the black-and-white eider ducks on the Great Bay. They paddled up and down its breadth no matter how perilous the weather, content to ride out whatever waves might come.
Ellis poked his head out from under the awning to peer at the sky. “Storm’s likely to last awhile. There’s sourdough in the oven. Should be done soon. Come on in.”
Ellis had begun working at the bakery once his schooling ended, seven harvests ago. He’d started out as nothing more than an errand boy, wrapping orders and counting payment, making sure the barters were fair. Now Tywynn allowed him to work in the back, pounding out the dough, and even entrusting Ellis with his best recipes. Though unstated, it was common understanding that once the old baker—long widowed, with no children of his own—was ready, he’d pass the business on to Ellis.
“It’s tempting,” Greer said.
“Is it?” His voice lowered still, warm and husky with longing.
He laced his fingers through hers, tangling them into an affectionate knot. A spark of hungry warmth caught in her middle, and as he traced little circles over her knuckles, Greer suddenly forgot all about Louise.
“Is anyone else around?”
“Haven’t had a customer since noon.”
“What a shame. I suppose I should come in and buy something.”
“For Tywynn,” he reasoned, brushing his thumb across the delicate skin of her inner wrist.
Greer’s breath hitched, lodging in the hollow of her throat. “For Tywynn.” The words almost didn’t come out.
As she stepped inside, Greer was struck by a wall of delicious heat. She could hear the flames in the ovens crackling, the hiss of baking bread. The front shop was clean and tidy and gloriously empty.
Even so, Ellis tugged her to the far corner of the room, away from the large storefront window. Eyes were everywhere, and with only days until the Hunt, nothing would please the town gossips more than catching a pair of lovers in a moment of indiscretion.
Ellis traced the curve of her ear, murmuring how much he’d missedher. Then, after he gave a quick glance back out the window, his mouth was on hers.
She nearly laughed with relief as they fell against each other. Pressed between the wall and Ellis’s long, looming frame, for one blessed, heady moment, Greer heard nothing but the whisper of his breath, the deep hum of his appreciation, and the racing patter of his heart and hers. In that moment, the rest of the world washed away, leaving only the two of them behind.
“I’ve missed you, Ellis Beaufort,” she murmured as he left a trail of kisses down the column of her throat. His hands roamed along her sides, squeezing the curve of her hips, bundling folds of her skirt as if he wished to tear them away. She drew lines up over his back, tugging at his suspenders, across his scalp, her fingers curling into his hair. She wanted to hold him in place, wanted to keep this moment going.
Just a little longer.
Just a little…
Ellis chuckled as he broke away, giving her an admonishing tap on her nose.
