Page 36 of Savage Blooms
Robert Lancaster stood in three-quarters profile, gazing out over the green with his hands tucked into the pockets of an oversized gray wool coat, his scarf catching in the wind. There was no date on the photograph, no hint to who had taken it, and no seasonal indicator in the gray haze of the sky above Craigmar, but it was definitely him. Robert was young in this picture, maybe not yet twenty. His head of stick-straight blond hair hadn’t begun to thin, and his cornflower eyes – Adam’s eyes – were clear.
“Oh my God,” Adam said, pinching the photograph tight between his fingers like a gust of wind might snatch it away.
“It is him, isn’t it?” Eileen said.
“It’s him,” Adam said, eyes suddenly stinging. He blinked away the tears, more a physiological response to unexpectedly seeing his grandfather than an expression of sadness. “That’s my grandad.”
“He was here,” Eileen said, squeezing Adam’s bicep tight. That touch anchored Adam to reality, to the solid warmth of Eileen beside him, and he was grateful for it. “He washere, Adam. You were right.”
“Yeah,” Adam said, nodding and trying to keep his head. “But we still don’t knowwhyhe was here, or for how long, or what he knew about Craigmar.”
“He knew about the faeries. I feel it in my gut. My grandmother must have told him.”
“Maybe,” Adam conceded. “But I’d like more details, or at least a little more evidence.”
“And there’s time for that,” Eileen said, dark eyes suddenly softer than Adam had yet seen them, softer than he thought possible. “But we don’t have to rush. You can just enjoy this small win for now.”
Eileen fell silent as they both gazed at the photograph, taking in every detail.
“He looks happy,” Eileen said after a long while, and it was this simple statement that made a stray tear trickle down Adam’s cheek. He swiped it away quickly with his fist, and Eileen, thankfully, didn’t say anything about it.
“Can I keep this?” Adam asked. “I’ll make sure it stays safe.”
“Of course,” Eileen said. “I’m happy you have this photograph, at least. And, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you found your way here.”
Adam looked at her, the chestnut highlights in her dark hair shining in the light falling through the windows, and allowed himself, for one moment, to feel that same happiness his grandfather must have felt discovering this place and its strange, lovely people for the first time.
“I am too,” he said.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nicola
Adam and Eileen stayed locked in the library for hours, chatting in excited voices about whatever was in those boxes. Nicola gave them their privacy, not wanting to insert herself too much in whatever shared quest they were on, but she poked her head in once to say hello and then again to bring in a tray of tea with honey, for which Eileen and Adam seemed grateful. Eileen called her “chickadee” when she thanked Nicola for her hot cup of Earl Grey, which made Nicola blush. At first, the avian pet names had felt dismissive, like Eileen was making fun of her, but they were quickly starting to feel affectionate.
After tea, Adam invited her to sit with them in front of the fire. Nicola brought her sketchbook with her, and drew the rolling hills outside the window while she warmed her bones. Her newest story was about a goblin,the littlest in his family, who wanted to go to school to learn arithmetic. The pastoral environs of Craigmar made for fitting scenery, and Nicola privately hoped that she could steal a little of Craigmar’s enchantment to make her next book proposal irresistible to publishers.
Finley had become scarce, and even though Nicola knew he had chores to do and a life to live beyond that, she couldn’t help but feel injured. She reacted poorly to perceived rejection – her therapist thought it had something to do with all that abandonment in childhood – but she still wondered how much of Finley’s disappearance had to do with Eileen making a show of tightening his leash. She also wasn’t pleased with Finley’s failure to inform her that he was dating Eileen, quite seriously it seemed, but then again, she didn’t think either of them had expected to share that all-consuming kiss by the ocean.
Finley reappeared late in the day, his curls damp with mist from the walk over from his cottage, to suggest that they all break for dinner. There was still some bread left over from the cave offering, and Nicola sat at the kitchen table eating a thick slice smeared with sweet butter while Finley and Eileen buzzed around preparing soup. It was wrenchingly tender, watching these two people who knew each other better than they knew themselves bicker about how much salt to use and laugh about how bad Eileen was at chopping carrots. It made Nicola a little jealous, having a front-row seat to such deep and abiding love. But there was also something deliciously warming aboutbeing brought into this intimate world, like a child safe in the embrace of her parents’ love dozing in the backseat as they chatted and drove. Adam’s presence made it even sweeter, as he sat with his knee touching hers running through possible timelines of his grandfather’s visit to Craigmar in pencil on a napkin.
At one point, probably when he thought no one was looking, Finley leaned over to Eileen and bit her shoulder while she was stirring the soup. It was an affectionate bite, and he smiled when he did it, but it was still hard.
Nicola’s stomach curled with lust at the sight, but then Finley was mincing parsley and the moment was over.
They all ate in companionable quiet, as though they had known each other for two years and not two days. Nicola kept having to swallow down emotion along with her soup, stirred up by the simple domesticity of the moment. She was doing it again, imprinting on people who barely knew her.
Nicola had always been desperate to hoard all the love in the world for herself, even to her detriment, or the annoyance of other people. She wanted to entice Adam into cuddling with her on the couch by the fire, even though that would make things weird between them, and she wanted to crawl between Eileen and Finley and sleep there, held in the matrix of their affection for each other, but that was wrong.
She needed to be normal, or at least act normal.
“Those dogs are going to have me up bright and early,”Finley said after the dishes had been cleared and they had all finished the bread with a bit of jam for dessert. “I should get going.”
“You letting Snug and Smoo run you ragged again?” Eileen teased. “I hope they aren’t sick.”
“No,” Finley replied. “Snug’s been having nightmares, if you can believe it. He’ll cry and nose at the door until I let him sleep on the bed with me.”
“Oh, to be loved the way a man loves a dog,” Eileen said drolly.
