Thorns of Decision (Dusk Gate Chronicles)

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Thorns of Decision (Dusk Gate Chronicles) Page 13

by Breeana Puttroff


  She noticed the way he deftly changed the subject, but decided to ignore it. “Yes, would you like some?”

  “I would love some. Thank you.”

  A few minutes later they were sitting across from each other, hot mugs in hand, the warm, soothing smell filling the air between them. They sipped in silence for a while before Thomas looked up at her, studying her closely before he spoke.

  “So, you and my big brother, huh?”

  She nodded, wondering if her cheeks looked as hot as they felt. “I guess so.”

  “You guess?” He raised an eyebrow, and her face glowed even warmer.

  “I mean, yes. Me and William.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “I’m not sure I can begin to tell you how happy it makes me to see him the way he’s been around you, Quinn.”

  She glanced down at the floor, the red still spreading, down to her neck and out to the tips of her ears now, as panic over what he might be implying constricted her chest. “You know it’s not anything serious yet, right Thomas?”

  And she wasn’t ready for it to be – at least when William wasn’t in the room, and she could think clearly. When he was right next to her, looking at her with those compassionate eyes that sometimes felt like he could see into her very soul, everything tended to get a little fuzzy, and she would start thinking strange things, start feeling like maybe it wasn’t crazy to be – courting someone from another world. Like there was actually some way this could end well.

  “Does it have to be serious for me to be happy about it?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t want you to have unrealistic expectations about it, that’s all.”

  “And what are your expectations, Quinn?”

  “I don’t know, Thomas. It’s not exactly a normal situation. I have no idea what’s going to happen between the two of us when I go home.”

  “Are you going to go home?”

  Her heartbeat stuttered, almost stopping before she was able to look back up at him. “Of course I’m going to go home, Thomas. What kind of question is that?” She stared up at him, surprised when she realized he was smiling. “Seriously, Thomas. What?”

  He shrugged. “I’m just trying to figure out where your mind’s at, Quinn. Play along with me for a minute?”

  “Play along with you how?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  He shifted back into the cushions, rearranging himself so that both legs were stretched out on the couch in front of him, and he took a long sip of his tea before holding the mug with both hands in his lap. “Let’s say – just for argument’s sake – that you didn’t go back home. That you decided to stay here.”

  “I can’t just do that, Thomas. Bristlecone is my home – that’s my world.”

  “It’s half your world Quinn. You’re half from here, too. You have just as much stake here as you do there.”

  “Not quite – and yes, I have thought about it. I was born there. My father was living there. My mom is there. My little brother and sister are there. I haven’t even graduated high school. It’s not like I can just walk out right now and never look back.”

  “Maybe not right now, Quinn. But you’ll graduate high school – or you won’t, you wouldn’t have to – you’re already of age here, and our education system is quite different. It would be hard, but it isn’t like you could never see your family again. You could go back and visit.”

  “And my mom would tell people what when I just disappear and reappear?”

  “That you’re magic.”

  “If you weren’t sitting over there with a broken leg, Thomas...”

  “You’d what?” he said, raising an eyebrow, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

  She sighed loudly.

  “Okay, you’re right, Quinn. It’s complicated for you. I get it. Just – when it comes time to make a decision – don’t assume it’s so complicated that there’s no possible way it could work out, okay?”

  “Fine, Thomas. I’ll try. But believe me when I say I am not ready to make that decision yet, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Besides,” she said, staring into her teacup. “I’m not sure I’m ready to live in a world where I have to start a fire in the middle of the night just to have a cup of tea.”

  “Will has an electric kettle in his room.”

  “Now you tell me. He didn’t think to bring one back for the common room?”

  Thomas chuckled, but he shrugged. “This is a castle. Most of the time when someone wants tea, there is someone else to start a fire.”

  “It’s not that way for everyone in your world, though.”

  “No, you’re right. I do get it, Quinn. This world is very different from yours, and I can imagine how hard it would be to get used to living without a lot of the things you have. Most people in my world do have to build their own fires before they can have something as simple as a cup of tea. Most people in my world have to go around lighting candles if they wake up in the middle of the night in the first place. You’re from a place with computers and cell phones and cars. It’s not an easy decision.”

  11. Homesick

  By the time Quinn had actually gotten tired again and been able to fall back asleep, the first hints of pale, gray light had been peeking over the horizon. She wasn’t ready to wake up again when Linnea knocked twice on her bedroom door and then came bounding inside.

  “Wow, you’re not usually asleep this late,” she said, as Quinn struggled to sit up and open her eyes. “We’re planning on leaving for Mistle Village in about an hour.”

  “Really?” She glanced over at the window. The light coming through the slit between the heavy curtains still looked faint.

  “Yeah, so you’d probably better get dressed and ready.” Linnea walked over and pulled back the curtains. The light still seemed off, but now Quinn could see why. The sky was overcast; billowy gray clouds covered up any trace of blue. She noticed for the first time that Linnea was dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

  “Is it cold outside?” she asked.

  “Not cold, but cooler than usual. You’ll want long sleeves and we’ll take jackets and things in case it rains this afternoon. You should get ready, though. Will and Jacob want to leave on time so we can get there before the storm hits if there is going to be one.”

  Even though Quinn was dressed and ready to go in less than half an hour, by the time they got outside to the front of the clinic, several people were already busily getting the Hardridge family loaded into two wagons. Lily and Graeme were running in and out of the clinic, loading as many supplies as they could into the beds.

  The horses were already hitched to the wagons; the two that Jacob had brought whuffled patiently in front of his wagon. Skittles, William’s brown and white mare, looked a little less than pleased to be harnessed next to one of her stable mates that Quinn didn’t recognize.

  Walking over to Skittles, Quinn reached up and rubbed her nose sympathetically. “Good girl,” she murmured.

  Suddenly, there was a forceful nudge at her shoulder. Startled, she spun around to see her own mare, Dusk, starting at her in what she would have sworn was jealousy. “Oh, Dusk,” she said, putting her arms around the animal’s neck. “You know I love you best.”

  Dusk bobbed her head up and down once, snorting. From behind her, Quinn heard a hearty laugh.

  “Sometimes I think that horse has more personality than the rest of us put together,” William said, coming up to stand next to Quinn.

  When she turned to look at him, her breath caught in her throat. Standing there as he was, in a tight, light blue sweater that set off his sparkling gray eyes and almost-black hair perfectly, it was hard to imagine exactly how he could have ever escaped her notice at school. Underneath the soft wool she could see the outlines of the muscles he’d developed through all of the manual labor he did here in his world.

  When he caught her gaze she blushed, watching the color spread across her cheeks in the reflection off the clear glass in his wire
-framed glasses. “Hey,” he said. “Good morning.”

  “’Morning.”

  Their position, standing in the circle created by the three horses, gave them a tiny bit of privacy from the people who worked around them, and he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “You okay?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine. Why?” she asked, frowning.

  “I talked to Thomas a little bit ago. He said you were awake half the night.”

  Oh, right. “Yeah ... it was just dreams again.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder, running it down to her elbow comfortingly. “Do you remember what they were about this time?”

  Closing her eyes, she tried to catch the hint of an image that danced in her mind, but shook her head when she opened them again. “I remember something about dandelions,” she said. “I think I was trapped in a field of them or something, but I can’t really remember.”

  William caught her hand and squeezed it gently. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it’s disconcerting for you when you have dreams like that.”

  “I just wish I could remember them. It seems like they’re important somehow, like I need to know what’s happening in them, but I just can’t hold onto it.”

  He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. It felt good to be there, snuggled against his chest, the uneasy feeling left over from her dream was slowly slipping away. His head tipped down towards hers, their lips brushing…

  “Will! Where are you?” Jacob’s voice called from the porch.

  He sighed and then chuckled. “I’ll be right there,” he called. “We need to get on the road,” he said, looking back down at Quinn. “I think we’ve got a few hours before it rains, but I’d like to have Eldon and Payla settled at the clinic regardless.”

  * * *

  The ride to Mistle Village was pleasant in the cool, overcast weather. It was nice to not be feeling sweaty and sticky underneath the searing heat of the summer sun. Dusk seemed to be enjoying herself, too; her casual walk was more energetic than usual. Linnea’s mare, Snow, kept up a happy pace right beside them.

  They followed along a little way behind the wagon William was driving, which carried all of the Hardridge children, except the youngest one, the barely toddling cherub-cheeked baby named George. They’d kept him in the first wagon with his parents so that Connie could hold on to him.

  Payla, the seven-cycle little girl who had been so ill just a few days ago was doing a lot better, though William and Jacob still wanted to keep her at the clinic until her coughing had subsided more. Right now she was smiling along with her siblings as they huddled under blankets and watched the countryside roll by.

  “Are you going to stare at Will the whole trip?” Linnea asked beside her.

  Heat flowed into her cheeks again as she turned to face her friend. “I’m not staring at him.”

  Linnea raised an eyebrow.

  Maybe she had been staring a little. Although she had seen William on horseback many times, she’d never watched him drive a wagon before, and it was surprisingly fascinating – the way he deftly controlled the horses with subtle movements of the lines he held.

  “People don’t drive wagons much in my world,” she said. “It’s kind of interesting.”

  “Yeah ... that’s the reason you’re staring.”

  The blush crept further down her neck as she scrambled for a response. “And if it was a certain, cute stable hand up there...”

  “If Jared was driving the wagon in front of us, I’d be staring too,” Linnea said, completely unabashed. “Maybe he’d notice and actually ask me on a walk or something.”

  How did all of this come so naturally to some people, Quinn wondered, when it all felt awkward and strange to her? Even with Zander, it had been hard to admit they were really dating, though Abigail had never seemed to have a problem flaunting her relationship with Adam.

  With William, it was hard enough when they admitted what was going on to each other – now she had to know what to say to his sister, too? Of course, she could always keep changing the subject. “He notices you, Nay. I’ve seen him. I think he’s just intimidated because he’s a stable hand and you’re a princess.”

  Linnea rolled her eyes. “There’s always some excuse for not just coming out and taking a chance, isn’t there? I’d go on a walk with him. Or a horseback ride.”

  “So why don’t you ask him?”

  Linnea raised her eyebrows. “Do girls do that in your world? Ask boys?”

  She shrugged. “Some girls.” She hadn’t. Abigail had. “Maybe more should.”

  “I don’t know. Here it would be weird, definitely. I’d scare him off for sure. And I think enough boys are already scared after they heard that Tolliver asked to court me. Things have dried up quite a bit since then.”

  “Well, you don’t need a hundred boys, Nay. Just the right one.”

  “Is William the right one for you?”

  Crap. She should have been more careful about letting that conversation circle back. “I don’t know, Nay. I like him. We’re courting.”

  “Can you imagine a future with him? More than just courting?”

  Quinn swallowed hard. What was it with Linnea – and Thomas – pushing her thoughts to the future instead of staying grounded in now?

  Being inside her own head was challenging enough. Although she’d tried her hardest not to let her mind go beyond the present, if she was honest, it had. The other night, they’d been in the common room after dinner, all of them just hanging out, and William had been holding baby Hannah, lifting her over his head, blowing raspberries on her tummy as she giggled wildly, and Quinn’s imagination had slipped just a little too far into an unlikely future. It hadn’t helped when he’d looked up at Quinn, his eyes meeting hers, smiling the lopsided smile that made her heart turn into a puddle in her chest.

  “Yeah, Linnea, sometimes I can.”

  When the first houses outside of Mistle Village came into view, Quinn sucked in a breath at the familiarity. She hadn’t been to the little village since her first trip to Eirentheos, but at the sight of the first little stone house with smoke curling from its chimney, she knew she could have led Dusk all the way to the other side of the village, to the paddock outside the clinic without any further directions.

  A thrill of recognition and excitement rippled through her middle when the low, white building appeared in front of them, and Dusk and Snow followed the wagons through the opening in the wooden fence. Jacob and William brought both wagons right up in front of the big, covered porch while Quinn and Linnea walked their horses around the side of the clinic, continuing through the large, grassy paddock until they were just outside the small stable in the back.

  Essie came out almost as soon as they had dismounted, and Quinn smiled as soon as she saw the familiar brown braid that had fallen over the shoulder of Essie’s simple, cotton dress. On her first trip here, Quinn had spent a lot of time helping Essie in her kitchen and around the clinic, and she’d come to like Jacob’s young, energetic wife who was also a healer.

  “How was your trip?” Essie asked, stepping right in to help unbuckle Dusk’s saddle. “I was starting to get worried it might rain while you were still traveling.”

  “It was really nice, actually,” Linnea said, though now she was rubbing her arms against a breeze that had picked up. “Although, I think we really are going to get a storm here, soon. We should probably get the horses settled in their stalls.”

  Essie nodded, moving toward the wagon with the children. “I made some stew and fresh bread for lunch. Come on inside when you’re finished.”

  * * *

  When the storm did hit, less than half an hour after they made it inside Jacob and Essie’s warm, homey kitchen, it was unlike anything Quinn had ever seen.

  Growing up in the mountains of Colorado, she had experienced more than her share of blizzards, and sometimes in the summer they would get sudden, heavy rains that led to flash flood warnings in the small canyon area where B
ristlecone was located, but the storm that raged outside the little clinic was a new experience.

  While William and Jacob worked to get Eldon Hardridge settled in one of the small bed areas in the clinic, Linnea, Quinn, and Essie had taken the children into the half of the building that made up Jacob and Essie’s home. They brought Payla into the cozy living room for now, though she was made to rest on the couch, and Essie brought over a steaming mug of clear broth for her to drink.

  When the first ominous, pitch-black clouds had appeared on the horizon, Quinn and Linnea followed Essie outside, and ran the entire circumference of the wraparound porch, closing heavy, wooden shutters over all of the windows.

  They’d just gotten inside, and Essie was getting a fire going in the living room hearth when the first roar of thunder shook the house, causing the dishes in the cupboards to rattle. Quinn shivered at the noise.

  The older children, and the tiny toddler, George, didn’t seem too bothered by the crashing and banging overhead, but little Arianna, who was three, cowered in the corner of the couch, tears brimming over the edges of her eyelids.

  When a new sound started, the heavy pattering of millions of raindrops slamming against the wooden roof, Arianna began to cry in earnest.

  Quinn was a little freaked out herself, especially when the wind began whipping across the outside walls, and the heavy shutters knocked against the window frames. Climbing up on the couch next to the little girl, she pulled her into her lap.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” she said. “Everything’s okay. We’re all okay.” After a few minutes, the little girl relaxed into her lap, her head against Quinn’s shoulder, and they sat there, staring at the flickering flames of the fire while the storm raged outside. Nearby, Linnea had pulled out a deck of cards and was playing a game with the three older children, and George had toddled into the kitchen with Essie. Quinn could hear her in there asking him to hand her plates and spoons as she washed the dishes.

 

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