She could call her Libby. Not spare so many thoughts to what her mother or brother would say and put her first, as she would any other friend. She could let herself fully appreciate all she’d done while here to help with the Beth mystery. The way she’d taken so quickly to the people Mabena held most dear. She could tear down the barrier she’d kept so carefully between them.
But how to tell her so? She debated it the rest of the way to St. Mary’s. Fighting with someone was easy enough, but making up? When it required words and not just a mutual decision to ignore the row and move on, as she and Beth had always done? That was altogether different.
She still wasn’t certain how best to handle it when they were all on shore at the quay in Hugh Town, but when Oliver declared he’d better hasten to the pharmacy before they closed for the day and Casek said he’d better check at the ferry office to see if any more shipments for the school had come in, she decided there was no time like the present for making the first strides.
And so she linked her arm through Libby’s—something she’d never done before—and gave her a smile. “I’m sorry we’ll miss the race tomorrow morning. If you want to just collect Darling and go back, we can.” It wasn’t what she’d said earlier when they’d asked her. Then, she’d simply wanted to escape her parents’ good-natured fussing for a few days. But friendship required a bit of self-sacrifice now and then.
Libby softened a bit, though her returning smile was still forced. “It’s all right. Oliver doesn’t mean to participate anyway. He convinced Mr. Menna to take his seat.”
“The things I missed while I slept off a headache!” Mabena gave the slightest shake of her head—all she dared. “Mr. Menna can outrow any of them.”
“That’s what Oliver said.” Libby’s smile faded into a sigh. “Though I’ll want to go back soon. To see how Mamm-wynn’s doing.”
“Any time you like. I ought to be right as rain again by tomorrow. What?” she added at the dubious look Libby sent her. “I’ve the hardest head on the islands. Ask anybody. A little knock on it can’t keep me down for long.”
Libby shook her head with enviable generosity of movement. Let a beat of silence speak for her. Then said, so softly Mabena could scarcely hear it over the breeze, “You’re not leaving again, are you? At the end of summer, I mean.”
And how could she know that when Mabena herself had scarcely come to the conclusion an hour ago?
Because . . . they were friends. She sighed. “I can’t. This is home.”
Libby nodded. “I don’t know how you ever left to begin with. I mean, I do. What with Cador and all. But . . .”
“I had to go. I’m glad I did. Glad I met you.” She bumped their shoulders together. “I never expected to make a friend, Libby. But I have, and I’m grateful for it. Grateful and . . . and maybe it’s the head injury, but I’m beginning to think maybe it was for a greater purpose too. That the Lord meant for you to come here this summer.”
The way Libby’s brows knit, and the way she took her lower lip between her teeth, made her seem at once a little girl, dreadfully uncertain, and an old woman who had seen too much. “I’ve never heard you talk so.”
“It’s not my way—I always left that to Ollie. But that doesn’t change the truth of it. And the truth is that I’ve never seen you as you’ve been since you got here a month ago.” She pulled Libby to a halt, waiting until she looked over at her. “You don’t have to go either, you know. At the end of summer. I know that was your plan, that this was just a respite to give Sheridan time to come to his senses and strike down your brother’s idea. I know you wouldn’t want to leave your mother. But there’s a place for you here. I wouldn’t have believed it had someone asked me before, but that’s truth too.”
Libby looked away. But not away. Not from Mabena so much as to the islands. “When you left here, you didn’t give up your place. You could go somewhere new and still know this was home.” She met her gaze again. “I’m not so certain that would be the case for me, if I chose the Scillies.”
If she chose Oliver, she meant. And she could well be right. “You have the rest of the summer to weigh that, then. To decide what you can live without and what you can’t. And I’ll be at your side to talk it through with you, if you need. That’s what friends are for.”
Libby gave her a small, mellow grin that felt like a gift. “I imagine I’ll take you up on that.”
They turned to the path again and walked up it without any more conversation. No doubt Libby’s mind was spinning as quickly as Mabena’s. About just as many things. And in Mabena’s case, it brought the headache roaring to the forefront again. She was rather glad Libby had declined returning to Tresco tonight. She found herself craving a hot cup of tea, some silence, and the bed at the cottage she’d grown accustomed to.
When they turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, though, she knew there’d be no rest tonight.
Not given the two men sitting at their table. In particular, the one with his arms folded like iron gates over his chest.
21
Libby’s stomach knotted, her hands clenched, and she fought down the unreasonable urge to spin on her heel and run all the way back to the quay. “Bram! What are you doing here?”
Mabena clicked the door shut behind them—effectively cutting off her escape.
Her brother lifted one powerful eyebrow and kept right on glaring at her. “What am I doing here? I’d think that’s fairly obvious.”
She wanted to be furious, to channel all the churning emotions into some strong response, like Mabena would have made. Instead, all she could think was that she’d never disobeyed her brother before coming here. Never disobeyed their father before him. Not willfully. And this was why. That look.
Even so. If she obeyed him now, the other man sitting in her sweet little kitchen would be her whole future. She darted one quick glance at Lord Sheridan to remind herself of why that would never do. And lifted her chin. “I’m not going back. I’ve let the cottage for the summer, and I’m going to enjoy it.”
“Meow!” A tiny bundle of stripes came tearing from her bedroom upon hearing her voice and probably would have climbed directly up her skirt if she hadn’t bent down to scoop him up. Darling curled into his favorite spot under her chin, butting his head against her and purring loudly. At least someone knew how to properly greet her after an absence.
Bram had opened his mouth, no doubt to issue some command she’d have to ignore despite the churning of her stomach, but he huffed out an incredulous breath instead. “Has that thing been here the whole time?”
“That thing?” She stroked a hand over the kitten’s vibrating back, lest he be insulted. “His name is Darling.”
Bram sent his eyes to the ceiling, looking fully exasperated. “Of course it is.”
“And what exactly do you mean by ‘the whole time’?” There, finally, the kitten’s purring was infusing her with a bit of confidence. “How long have you been here brooding and invading my privacy? And how did you get in?”