Chapter 10

Katie

There was a chill in the meeting room that couldn't be combated by the fire roaring in the hearth. I pulled my shawl closer around me, which did nothing to help distract me from Brew sitting opposite me. If anything it made me more aware of him.

It was ridiculous. My shawl didn't even smell like him any more and he was doing everything he could not to look at me, which gave me ample opportunity to look at him. Though that was concerning. He had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping well.

Was it because of me? Or was something else going on that had taken the pep out of his step? I hated the idea that I might have done something to upset him, though I didn't know what. Maybe it was because I hadn't said anything about the night outside the tavern. But that couldn't be it. He wasn't being serious then, was he?

I closed my eyes and tried to regain some control over myself. Carly was right that I clearly needed to talk to Brew, especially if I couldn't even be in the same room with him without spiralling over what was going on between us.

Mrs Brewster knocked on the table to get everyone's attention and bring the meeting to order. I was almost relieved that we had to talk about serious things. That would take my mind off Rooibos Brewster for at least a little bit.

Even if he was in the room and would be part of the conversation.

"Does anyone want to start?" Mrs Brewster asked, looking around the room.

Unsurprisingly, nobody said anything, probably because we all knew that she had something important to talk about.

"All right, so the tea," she said.

I sat up straighter. Having helped the Brewsters with the stock check, I knew the basics about the situation, but I wanted to hear the outcome. And it was going to impact the entire settlement. Tea was the source of power for the tea witches, and without it, they wouldn't be able to run the infirmary. I was sure there were other things they wouldn't be able to do, but I had no idea exactly how the magic worked.

"We've been through the warehouse and sorted out the situation with the rat infestation. We're looking at having about two months' worth of tea left, three months if we ration it," Mrs Brewster said.

"Though we're expecting the trader soon," Jasmine said.

"If nothing goes wrong," Mrs Steeper interjected, a serious expression on her face.

Her wife nodded. "The trader has been late in the past and they're not the most reliable. We need our own plantation to succeed more than ever. That's why the meeting with Grower's Cove should be a priority. If the dryads can assist us, it'll be worth whatever they demand from us. I suggest Grey goes to negotiate with them."

Upon hearing his name, Grey looked up with a hesitant expression. "Me?"

No one answered his question. It was a bit of a surprise that his aunts hadn't talked to him about it. The Steepers always seemed close, but maybe there were some complicated dynamics going on. I wasn't sure what had happened to Grey's parents, but he'd lived with his aunts and cousin for as long as I could remember.

"I can negotiate too," Jasmine said.

Brew snapped to attention, looking at his sister with a look that said he wasn't keen on her dealing with the dryads from Grower's Cove, but that was just the protective brother in him. He'd felt protective over his other siblings ever since his dad died along with my parents.

It was always sweet to see him like that and warm affection for him settled in my chest.

"All right," Mrs Brewster said. "Grey and Jasmine can take the lead on the negotiations with Grower's Cove."

Discussions continued into the logistics of that, and I found my mind drifting. I wasn't needed for any of these discussions, being neither a dryad or a tea witch. It was at times like this that I wished my ward tattoo of Banjo was somewhere on my hands so I could entertain myself by watching it. Maybe that was where I'd get my next ward tattoo for that purpose.

Without meaning to, I stole a glance at Brew. He had a serious expression on his face as he listened intently. It was making his forehead wrinkle. If we were still children, I would've smoothed those out with my finger because he always said he worried about looking old.

He noticed me staring and smiled with just his mouth, a hollow echo of the signature Brew grin. That wouldn't do, but it gave me hope that I could manage to get the right kind of response out of him.

I brought my hand behind my head to make bunny ears. It was silly and childish but it brought a little spark to Brew's eyes. They crinkled as he made some bunny ears of his own and inflicted some on Earl sitting next to him who was giving us confused looks.

Jasmine turned in our direction, giving me a strange look that I couldn't decipher, but she didn't say anything and carried on with her part of the conversation about the dryads.

I leaned back and put bunny ears behind Naida's head, making Brew grin in response.

Now that was the mischievous Brew I knew. Still, his smile didn't last and fell away quickly. Something was definitely up with him.

I should talk to him. Even if this wasn't about what happened outside the tavern, maybe giving him a chance to talk would be good and he could let me in on what was bothering him. Perhaps we could even fix it together.

The meeting finally came to an end and I sprung up from my seat, determined to find out what was making Brew frown like this. I made my way around the large table, cursing my position at the far side because it put me on the back foot.

Outside, Brew's long strides had already carried him past the gates of the property. Since I didn't want to cause a scene with all the others around, I could only quicken my pace so much. I caught up with him but he was no longer alone. Two women had snared him with small talk and coquettish smiles that did nothing to hide their intention.

While I usually waited and let them do their thing, I didn't have the patience for that today. I barged in on their conversation, slightly out of breath but determined all the same.

"Brew, a word?" I said, hoping my behaviour wasn't too brusque.

He looked surprised but nodded, which made the two other women slink away. One of them squeezed his arm before she did and mouthed something that I couldn't make out.

They really were everywhere.

"Friends of yours?" I asked.

Brew hummed. "Patients. I treated one of them for a lung infection earlier this winter."

While it was a likely story, that didn't stop me from being annoyed at how familiar they were acting around him. They didn't know him, not like I did.

"Do you never tire of all the attention?" I asked, cursing inwardly as the question slipped out. This wasn't the way I wanted this to go.

"I like talking to people and it's part of my role to be friendly to everyone so they'll tell me what troubles them," he said with a little shrug. Knowing him, he truly meant it too.

The infirmary was lucky with a dedicated healer like him, even if his response made me a little jealous.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Brew asked, reminding me that I'd come running after him.

Heat rushed to my face and I avoided looking directly at him. It would be easier to ask this when I wasn't feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed.

"It's about that night outside the tavern," I said, quietly hoping that might be enough to jolt his memory.

Brew hummed but didn't say anything. He was going to make me say it, wasn't he?

I finally looked at him but got distracted by fresh snow fluttering down on us. It was only light but big snowflakes were settling on his unruly auburn hair. It looked a little like snow settling on a tree.

"Katie?" he prompted.

"Do you like me, Brew?" I knew it was direct, but life was too short to waste on unfounded worries. My heart pounded as I waited for his response, and I hadn't realised just how much it actually mattered to me.

A lopsided grin tugged the corner of his mouth up. "Of course, I like you."

"Not like a friend. I'm asking if you have feelings for me."

"I know what you're asking." A gust of wind made his curls dance. "The answer is yes, Katheryn."

He said it so simply and yet with such intent, it made my heart pound like it wanted to burst right out of my chest. How could he admit something like that so casually? Did it not worry him?

I looked up in his blue eyes, searching for answers. They were bright and he looked unburdened. How long had he been feeling this way that a confession was taking weight off of his shoulders?

He took a step forward, his smile kind and intimate. And very different from the way he looked at other people. How had I not noticed this before?

"Does that surprise you?" His voice was a low murmur, and I could sense a little promise there. Perhaps because I hadn't run away from him. If anything, I was leaning in.

I swallowed hard. "Does Oliver know?"

He snorted. "Do I still have all my teeth?"

"I think he's more of a scratching-eyes-out person," I murmured.

"Mmm, if he could set Howie on me, he would for this. But no, Oliver doesn't know. I wasn't going to ruin our friendship over something that I didn't think would ever happen."

My breath caught in my throat. The way he was wording things seemed deliberate, as if he was testing out whether that was something that was going to change.

"How long have you felt this way?" Maybe I should have gone with a different question, but this was the one I really wanted the answer to.

Brew tapped his chin. "How long have we known each other?"

Now he was asking complicated questions. I counted back the years since Oliver and I had first come to the farm, back when our parents were still alive and well.

"Eighteen years or so?" I guessed. "I was six, you were eight. Oliver declared you his mortal enemy in the morning and you were best friends before the sun went down."

Brew chuckled at the memory. "Then I've felt this way for eighteen years minus one day."

"You're not going to convince me it was love at first sight." That had to just be a line.

"Maybe not love, but I definitely felt something." He scratched the back of his head and offered me a hesitant smile. "Don't overthink it, Katie. I don't expect you to reciprocate. I don't expect anything at all. I simply like you."

Strange how he was the one consoling me when I wasn't the one who'd spent the past eighteen years repressing feelings and having them rejected at every turn.

"I have to get to the infirmary," he said. "I'll see you soon, Katie." He lingered for a moment, almost as if he wanted to say goodbye in a very different way. Or he wanted me to say anything.

But everything was so confusing that I didn't know what to say. So I just let him leave and tried not to dwell on how painful it was to watch him walk away.