Page 118 of Brambles and Bellflowers
“It’s not…” I began. Their sudden attention to my work frayed my nerves, and I shuffled my weight to my other foot. “It was my fault to begin with. Sorry, it’s not better.”
“But…” Miles ran his index finger down the mended rip at the knee. “How?”
I frowned at him. The nervous energy swirling in my stomach made it impossible to think. Why couldn’t he just get dressed? At least he had a shirt on for once. But his thighs were not any less distracting than his bare torso.
And what did he mean? I stabbed a needle through some fabric; that was how sewing worked.
Unless, of course, he was referring to how they might have gotten destroyed in the first place. I didn’t think he’d gotten brain damage, but it was always a possibility.
“I ripped off your clothes,” I reminded him. “Remember? It was after you dramatically fell and smashed your head against the ground.”
Miles’s amazed expression morphed into a flush. “I didnotsmash my head into the ground.”
Well, at least he wasn’t denying that I unclothed him.
“Sometimes it feels like we’re having two separate conversations,” he continued, still unable to meet my eyes. “You’re so hard to follow.”
I bit my lip and slunk into the chair across from him. Should I be upset?
Kathleen banged her spoon against the lip of the cauldron, breaking the awkward silence. “Miles,” she commanded. “I need your help with this.”
His face was still red as he moved to her and asked, “What is that, hydrangea?”
“It’s for a spell,” she replied, stirring the purple potion. “I only have a few hours left to get it right.”
“What kind of spell?” he asked, peering into the mixture.
Instead of answering, she only hummed under her breath, and the conversation shifted as the two witches conversed softly as they worked over the fire.
The restof the day passed slowly as Miles and Kathleen spoke and stirred. Although Kathleen never answered Miles’s question about what they were working on, she did manage to give him a lesson on witch etiquette.
I found the whole thing somewhat soft and fell asleep at the table mid-lecture.
They let me be there until dinner. I woke up on the bed when Miles shook me awake, and the three of us sat around the table, wolfing down potato stew.
“We’re headed out tomorrow,” Miles said as he lowered his bowl and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He nodded to Kathleen. “Thank you for your help, but we need to get back.”
Kathleen’s brows drew together, and she looked into her coffee. “I expected,” she replied. “Thank you for visiting. It was an honor to have this meal with you both.”
Her voice held a sense of resignation, and I lowered my coffee mug from my lips.
Even Miles had picked up on the strange statement. “Kathleen?” He pushed his seat back from the table. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s getting dark,” she replied, covering her mouth. “Miles, could you please fetch me one more thing? I have something left that I need to do.”
His sharp gaze moved over her slight form. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing unexpected.” Her shoulders tensed as the light from the hearth grew brighter, lightening the shadows that spread through the room. She moved her hands to her lap as her words rushed out breathlessly. “I only need some hydrangea root—you used the rest earlier. Please get it for me. It’s in the grove where I found you. Do you remember? You should be okay to walk that far.”
“Why tonight?” he protested, voice wary and brows furrowing. However, despite his doubtful expression, he’d already moved to his feet. “Can’t it wait?”
“No, but don’t worry,” Kathleen said, standing. “Everything will be ready by the time you get back.”
A chill seemed to pass through the air, and Miles and I exchanged an uneasy glance.
I waited until Miles limped out of the house, grumbling under his breath before I turned to Kathleen. I twisted my fingers in my lap. “Do you think it’s okay for him to go out?”
“He’ll be fine,” she answered, returning to the cauldron. She grabbed a checkered rag and grasped the handle. “I’m more certain now than ever before.” She returned to the table, setting the pot over a crocheted burgundy potholder. Then she liftedthe lid, waving her left hand through the smoke as she breathed in the strong lavender and eucalyptus scent. Despite pressuring Miles to leave quickly, she didn’t seem to be in any hurry.
