Page 114 of Last Rites

The crowd erupted in cheers, and the sunflowers bowed in the breeze as if they, too, were celebrating.

Kit and I turned to face our friends and family, the ribbons held high between us. I wanted to jump or run or spin until the world blurred, but before I could move, Kit caught me. His arms wrapped around me and lifted until only my toes brushed the ground. With his hands firm at my waist, I framed his face with both palms and dove in for a lingering kiss.

He was blushing again by the time I freed him to take a breath, and he set me down just as the onlookers began to approach.

I could count on Sayla to lead the pack, dragging Warren along while cradling her newborn to her chest.

“Well, you’ve gone and done it now, Kit,” she said, smiling wide. “Made my brother the happiest man in the province.”

Kit hugged me to his hip so we could face them side by side.

“It’s only fair I should return the favor,” he replied.

“Pen tells me you two may soon be following my lead in this area as well.” She nodded to the infant sleeping peacefully in her arms, a baby girl she named Cinna.

Kit hiked a brow at me, and his lips chased it with a bemused smirk. “Spreading that around, are we?”

It still felt like a dream. When Sayla first wrote to us last winter that we were going to be uncles, I’d been happy for her. She was building the life she’d dreamed about since she was a girl. Building a family.

Even still, there was a twinge of jealousy there for the children I was certain I’d never have. But I had Kit, and Ember and Nutmeg—not to mention the handful of other animals we collected over the months—and that was a kind of family, too. It was enough, and I was content.

Until Kit plucked Sayla’s letter out of my hands and tucked himself up close to me and said he’d like to give her the same news someday, that she was going to be an aunt. “We’ve had some good practice taking in strays already,” he’d said as he mopped the resulting tears off my face. “There are plenty of kids in need of a home, too.”

I didn’t think there was a single dream of mine that this man couldn’t make come true.

I squeezed closer to Kit and wrung the knotted ribbons between my hands. “I had to tell someone!”

Sayla laughed and shifted Cinna higher against her shoulder before holding her out toward Kit. “Well, you may as well start practicing. I could use a rest.”

Kit froze, wide-eyed, as the tiny bundle was carefully pressed into his arms. He released me to adjust his hold, settling the baby close to his chest.

We’d seen her a bit, even held her in the days we’d been here preparing for the wedding, but Kit was ever enthralled. He moved subtly side-to-side, staring down at Cinna’s peaceful face and brushing back the tufts of her pale blonde hair.

I took it all in: the farm, our family gathered around us, my husband cradling the child who looked like hope itself. It was a glimpse of everything I’d ever wanted, all the pieces of a future I’d barely dared to dream.

But I wasn’t dreaming. I was awake—alive—and seeing more clearly than I ever had.

And when I looked at Kit, he was already looking back. Even with the newborn nestled in his arms, his eyes found mine and held fast, as if to say, This is only the beginning.

THE EVER AFTER

KIT

Two years ago, I never would have dreamed that my life could be this full.

Gone were the quiet months I spent alone in an empty house, the days of going all afternoon without being approached in the forge, and the endless ache of loneliness that I’d convinced myself I deserved. In its place was a happiness I could never have imagined.

Here on the Oliver farm, surrounded by family and friends and with a backdrop of towering sunflowers, one adventure ended and another began. The scent of change rode the edge of the wind and carried with it the promise of a future well-deserved. A life together.

Warren and his brothers had spent all of yesterday setting up rows of tables and chairs between the house and the barn. Now, every seat was full. Penny and I sat together at the head table looking out over familiar faces from Ashpoint, Forstford, and Eastcliff—even my cousin, Willem, and his wife were here—all gathered for us.

This was the community we’d been seeking, finally made manifest without the shadow of the cult looming on the horizon. And when I saw Thoma tucked close to one of Warren’s older brothers, and Rosie shyly sneaking glances at Ben’s nephew while she and Isla whispered together, and Warren fussing over Cinna dozing in my new sister’s arms, I had to admit that Eeus hadn’t lied.

For all the bad I’d done, Penny and I still managed to bring all of these people together. We patched the cracks in each other’s lives and tended each other’s wounds until new things could grow. It didn’t erase the pain or make up for the losses we suffered, but it made the load lighter. It made the rebuilding easier. We shared the sorrow and the joy, and neither of us would have to face anything alone again.

“You’re quiet,” Penny said, sliding his fingers between mine beneath the table and propping his chin on my shoulder.

I gave his hand a squeeze. “Just thinking.”