Book 2 - Page 43 (1/2)

Edmund was working on a pair of shoes when I walked in. His face reflected surprise, quickly hidden. “Deuce! Good to see you.”

I chatted with him for a few minutes so he wouldn’t be hurt that I hadn’t come to see him specifically. “What are those?”

“These will be a fine pair of slippers when I’m finished. Did Doc Tuttle check you out yet?”

“He removed my st.i.tches too. I’m good as new.”

Not quite. I hurt in ways I hadn’t before—the pain not physical—and I worried about the town, which had become my home. Not that it was my place to be concerned. The elders would solve the problem. I just had to find some useful way to occupy my time, now that I didn’t have to attend school, though I didn’t look forward to advising Mrs. James of my decision. Everyone in Salvation worked—and I didn’t want to apprentice to Momma Oaks and become a dressmaker. But I’d figure out a way to persuade people that I ought to be allowed to take over for Longshot, once the trade runs commenced … after they dealt with the Freaks outside the walls.

Not a small job.

Then Edmund proved he was more perceptive than he seemed. “Fade’s in the back, cutting patterns.”

“Do you mind…?”

“Go on. He’s welcome to take a break. Hard worker, that one … doesn’t talk much, though.”

He used to, I thought.

With an indistinct murmur, I brushed past Edmund into the work s.p.a.ce at the back of the shop. Fade glanced up—and I could’ve sworn for an instant that he was happy to see me, but the look vanished so fast I thought I imagined it. He put down the tool he used on the leather and c.o.c.ked his head in challenge.

“What are you doing here?” The unspoken meaning was clear: I told you to leave me alone, to forget about me. I meant it.

I ignored the pain, doggedly clinging to my mission, and flattened my palm on the counter. When I pulled my hand away, the key lay atop the half-trimmed leather. “I see that you’re unhappy … you feel trapped. But I can help.”

“What do you mean?”

“Longshot left me his house. I wouldn’t like living alone, and I don’t mind Edmund or Momma Oaks. So you can stay and take care of the place. It’ll give you more peace … more privacy.” I stared over his shoulder, wondering if he could tell how much this hurt me. “n.o.body will bother you there.”

You won’t see me. You can lick your wounds and miss me until you come searching for me … because you’re mine, and I’m yours. But I left that part unspoken.

His throat worked. “I … really appreciate this.”

“Do you know where it is?” It was hard for me to be casual with Fade when I wanted so much to reach for him, to twine our fingers together and kiss his palms, and to tell him he was acting crazy.

He inclined his head. “Longshot had me over once.”

I hadn’t known that. But during those first few months in town, I’d hardly seen Fade. Given how Mr. Jensen had treated him, it was no wonder he’d spent as little time at the livery as possible. I imagined him looking for a different place to be every night, and how I wished it had been with me.

“That’s all, then.” I turned, determined not to humiliate myself.

“Deuce…” For a moment, for a glorious, bright, hopeful moment, I thought he was going call me back. But he only added, “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” I muttered.

I managed a wave for Edmund, busy again. Little wonder he enjoyed resting at home when he spent his days hunched over a workbench. As I hurried out, rifle shots rang out, one after another. Instead of going home, I went to the wall to see for myself how bad it was. More than once, I’d sought Longshot when he was on duty to complain about my problems. I couldn’t anymore. The guards might not let me come up, but the sentry recognized me—well, sort of.

“I know you,” he said, frowning.

My cheeks heated; the dress must be throwing him. I’d known him at first glance. It was, in fact, the man who saved my life.

“I patrolled with you all summer,” I reminded him.

“You look different dressed as a female.” His brow cleared, the question answered to his satisfaction.

Despite my mood, I smiled, pointing at the ladder that led up to the platform. “May I?”

“I probably shouldn’t, but after what you’ve already seen, it doesn’t matter. Come on, then.”