Chapter 6

Aurora

I'M NOT QUITE SURE WHAT to do with myself while Alden is working on the roof. The pounding of the hammer is so loud inside that I don't want to be in the cottage finishing up the rest of the cleaning I need to do. So instead, I weave my hair back into a single long braid and then head outside to continue working on the garden.

I trim and pull and sweep until my back aches and my hands are sore even through my gardening gloves. Every time I look up at Alden, he's looking away, focused on the work he's doing. One time when I looked up, he had a few nails held between his teeth, and he was hammering away on the roof, the muscles in his arm rippling with every movement. I'll admit I was frozen for a moment, at least until he glanced over and narrowed his eyes at me like my attention irritated him. Since then, I've just been stealing glances, trying not to let him see me looking.

We don't speak the rest of the day, except when I offer him lunch. As expected, he turns down my offer, even though I know he must be hungry. He's been up and down the ladder all day, and the sun is starting to sink over the trees by the time he packs his cart up and takes off his tool belt.

"Got those holes patched," he tells me, reaching up to pull his thick dark hair out of the knot tied at the base of his neck. "I'll be back in a couple days to work on the porch."

"Okay," I say, but I'm slightly distracted by the way he runs his fingers through his hair, tousling the individual curls. When I don't say anything else, he turns and starts pulling his cart back down the road. "Alden!"

He goes rigid at the sound of his name. It takes him a moment to glance back at me.

"Despite what Lydia said, I'd like to pay you for all your work." I twist my gardening gloves in my hands. "What do I owe you?"

Alden doesn't say anything. A breeze rustles the pines and the naked aspens, sending his thick hair waving around his dark eyes. I really wish I could touch one of his curls, roll it between my fingers. It looks so soft in this light.

Finally, he sighs.

"It's my pleasure," he says in that gruff voice of his. It sure doesn't sound like a pleasure. Then he turns and walks away, cart wheels crunching over the dirt as he goes.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" HARRISON asks after he hops up onto the desk beside me.

Auntie left most of her furniture here, and this writing desk is one of my favorite pieces. It's beautifully carved and embellished, and it stands beneath a window in the parlor, a candle flickering in a candleholder beneath a tin of wax, illuminating the parchment spread out before me.

"Writing a letter to Selene." I dip my quill into a bottle of midnight-black ink, then carefully write my sister's name across the top.

"Is she going to come visit?" he asks, a hint of excitement in his voice. He's always loved Selene—and the snacks she brings him.

"Not yet. We have to get this place fixed up first. We can't have her sleeping on the floor." I arch an eyebrow at him. "Not in her condition."

Harrison sighs, then gets distracted by one of the quartz crystals sitting on the windowsill in the moonlight. He swipes it with one paw, and the crystal flies off the windowsill and goes skittering across the hardwood floor. I let out a little laugh as Harrison leaps off the desk to pursue it, then turn back to my letter.

Selene,

I'm sorry for not writing sooner. I've made it to Faunwood, and it's as beautiful and charming here as I remember. It's so quiet, nothing like Wysteria. When I wake in the morning, all I hear is birdsong. The creek is still frozen, but I look forward to hearing its babbling come summer. Do you remember how we used to play in the creek while Auntie would make that special lemonade we loved so much? I miss that.

Brookside is in shambles, though. It's so sad seeing Auntie's beloved home in such a poor state. A carpenter in town is helping me with the much-needed repairs. His name is Alden Stonewood, and Selene, he's so cold! He spent all day here, but he refused the tea and lunch I offered him, and I don't think he smiled once. He's got a strange energy around him, like he doesn't want to let anyone get too close. It's nettling, to say the least. I look forward to the repairs being complete so I won't need to have him around all day. I'm not sure I'll know peace until he's well and truly gone.

Harrison misses you and wants you to come visit. But I know traveling is uncomfortable for you right now. I can't wait to meet my little niece or nephew, whenever they decide to arrive.

Tell Wyland and Mama I love them. And you know that I love you to the moon and back.

Write soon,

Aurora

I blow on the ink to get it to dry, then carefully fold the parchment and seal it with a dab of crimson wax. I press my seal into it— AS —then turn it over and leave it on the desk. I'll walk into town tomorrow to post it.

The wind rattles the window over the desk, reminding me of the cold lurking outside the cottage. It makes me glance up, where I can see the fresh wood planks patching the hole over the parlor. A tiny smile curves on my lips.

But then I remember Alden's narrowed eyes and harsh tone when he spoke to me today, and it makes me bristle.

The sooner he finishes with repairs and the sooner I can be rid of him, the better.