Page 117 of Brambles and Bellflowers
“They don’t…” I muttered, barely able to breathe at her implications, twisting my fingers in Miles’s pants. “Think I’m theirs…”
There was no way.
“They wouldn’t even let me take their name,” I added. “I’m a Brosnan… kind of.”
I might be Dubois now, but my marriage to Bryce didn’t count. I’d asked to change my name when I was first adopted, but they’d refused.
“Brosnan?” Kathleen’s frown twisted.
“K-Kieran,” I explained. “He helped raise me for a while.”
“Then, of course, they wouldn’t let you change your name,” she replied. “That’s disrespectful.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, the suffocating lump weighing over my chest loosening slightly.
“The Brosnans might not be noble, but they are well-respected among the fae.” Kathleen glanced toward her house. “They are one of the two guardian families that protect the realms between the courts. They are also warriors and mercenaries. Kieran Brosnan was your mother’s bodyguard and your father’s best man. He was the one who introduced the two of them.”
“How…” I began, squirming. I’d known that Kieran’s last name was Brosnan, but I had no idea it was so important. “How does it all work?”
“Ask Gregory,” she replied. “He’ll be able to explain it better than I. In the meantime, this brings us back to our original conversation: witches raised you.”
So everyone claimed, but I never thought of my adoptive parents as such.
“They must have taught you a thing or two,” she continued, looking down at my lap. “Why don’t you mend those pants, and we’ll see what happens?”
I stared at her. Well, they would no longer be ripped. What else would happen?
“Just trust me,” she said, shakily pushing to her feet and brushing off her skirt. “Just think about Miles and believe in yourself.”
But why over complicate such a simple task? I didn’t have a chance to ask before she limped away.
At her departure, the atmosphere seemed to lighten, and I tore my eyes away from her retreat and toward the garment in my hands.
I had done a thorough job in destroying the leg. It’d been necessary at the time, but now Miles desperately needed covering. It wasn’t like he could traipse around in his boxers. He would freeze, and it would be entirely my fault.
The guilt would be all-encompassing.
Kathleen had left behind a small tin containing a sewing kit, which rested on the dirt beside my knee. The ground around me was humming in the aftermath of her presence—or maybe it was just my nerves. I wasn’t sure, but the feeling grew stronger as I pulled the open tin to me and reached for the black thread and a needle.
It wasn’t a perfect match by any stretch of the imagination, but it was all I could do. Unfortunately, Miles was not going to get professional-level service from me.
But I would do my best.
The shifting shadows of the sunlight streaming through the branches lulled me while the atmosphere seemed to fade as I moved to repair the garment, focusing on my goal.
The cabin’swarmth caressed my skin as I stepped back into Kathleen’s kitchen. Miles was sipping tea at the table, and he turned to me as I approached him and thrust his pants into his arms.
“Here,” I told him. “I fixed them for you.”
“What?” he asked, glancing at his arms. “Youdid this?” he continued in the most ungrateful manner. The disbelief in his voice was almost insulting, especially as he ran his fingers over the dark threads.
“But how?” He turned wide-brown eyes to me.
“The normal way,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my stomach.
Kathleen was at the hearth, stirring a deep purple something in her cauldron. She’d barely looked up at my arrival, but at Miles’s question, her attention moved briefly in our direction.
“That’s some marvelous work,” she said, her voice mild. “She must really like you.”
