“The bed is too uncomfortable,” he said, and though his tone was light, and she knew he meant to tease her, she stiffened with offense.
“Joshua went to buy bread to break our fast. I’ll go to the well and fetch water for a bath. You look…”
She wanted to say he looked like a chimney sweep after a day of work, and that was true, but even beneath the smeared soot and ash, his face was so handsome it made her chest tighten. He had those beautiful green eyes and that slow, seductive smile.
“I can fetch the water. While Joshua is gone, I want to talk to you.”
This was goodbye, and she didn’t want to hear it. Not yet. “We can talk later,” she said. “I can’t take you seriously looking like you just fell out of a chimney.” And then, because he looked as though he might argue, she turned and fled back down the stairs, forgetting that she’d meant to nail the board over the broken window. Violet gathered her buckets and secured them on a long pole she could fit across her shoulders to carry the water back. She went out, feeling a sense of lightness at not having to fear Ferryman or his men as she walked along the road to the well.
She knew someone would try to take Ferryman’s place. Perhaps it would be Resurrection Man. They’d made up the story about his trying to encroach on Ferryman’s territory, but Ferryman had believed it because Resurrection Man had done it before. He’d almost certainly try it again. Or perhaps one of Ferryman’s lieutenants would rise to the top and consolidate power. She’d be ready this time and would take the money she saved from Ferryman’s taxes to hire her own thugs. Archie would be well enough to return soon, and he would know where to find such men and how to keep them in line.
Violet reached the well, pulled up the bucket, and poured the water in her first pail. The work did not require her to think, and as much as she tried to keep her mind occupied with formulating ideas for the tavern and her brothers, she couldn’t stop it from wandering back to where it wanted to go: King.
He was leaving her. That was good, she told herself as she lowered the bucket again. She’d told him to go a half-dozen times. The only reason she’d allowed him to stay in the first place was because Archie was injured. And whose fault was that? King’s!
Injuring Archie and wrecking her tavern wasn’t all he’d done. He’d caused all this trouble with Ferryman, which had putJoshua and himself in danger. It had worked out in the end, but what if it hadn’t? Violet should be glad to send King on his way.
She cursed as she hauled the heavy bucket up and poured the water into her pail, splashing some on her dress. In frustration, she pushed the bucket back into the well and then leaned her head on the well’s wooden supports and blinked back tears. What was wrong with her?
She drew in a deep breath and swiped the tears away. No more of this. King was going, and she’d be fine without him. Just fine.
She hefted the heavy pails onto her shoulders and trudged back to the tavern. King had better appreciate this effort. After today, he would have to haul his own water, and she’d have one fewer person to take care of. Things could go back to the way they were. She could forget King had ever existed.
She came in view of the back door, and it opened, revealing King. “Let me help you with those,” he said, coming out and taking the buckets from the pole. He lifted them easily. “If you’d given me a moment, I would have fetched them myself.”
“I can do it,” she said. “I managed without you for twenty-one years, and I’ll manage when you’re gone.”
He stilled and looked at her.
She looked back at him and raised her brows. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Joshua is back, and we’ve heated the stove. I’ll warm the water.”
“Good. I’ll nail the board over the window.” That would give her something to do so she wasn’t tempted to peek at King washing.
“I already did that. Go eat the rolls Joshua bought.”
“Fine. Do you know where the tub—”
“I have it, Miss Sunshine. Go.”
He was back to the teasing name he’d given her. She should he happy for that. It was so much less personal than when hesaid her name. She hated the way it sounded in his upper-class accent. At least, that was what she would tell herself.
She clomped up the stairs, annoyed he’d covered the window and determined to find something wrong in the work so she’d have to do it over. But it was well done, and that just made her angrier.
“Saved two rolls for you, Vi,” Joshua said, looking up from his plate at the table.
“Georgie will be home soon. I had better leave one for him. We can’t expect Archie to feed himandhouse him.” Her tone was sharp, and Joshua looked up at her from under his brows.
“I bought two for him as well.”
That was thoughtful. Clever Joshua. At least, that was what she meant to say. Instead, she said, “How much did you spend on rolls? Soon we’ll have no blunt!”
“I’m sorry, Vi. I—”
Violet didn’t let him finish. Instead, she went to him and hugged him. Hard. “I’m sorry. I’m tired and cranky and taking it out on you. You did everything perfectly, Joshua.”
“The bread wasn’t expensive,” he said. “I made sure to haggle.”
