Footsteps echoed up the stairwell.
“Merry?” I called out. “I can’t get the last button clasped. Can you help me?”
She didn’t respond.
“Sadie?” I tried. “It’s almost time to leave. Did you change into your calico?”
The footsteps paused.
“I can come back later if you…Oh, Ellerie Downing.”
I froze, every hair on my arms rising to attention as I recognized that voice. I looked in the mirror, and there he was, standing behind me as though my thoughts had summoned him.
“Whitaker?” It came out as soft as a breath.
“You are so, so beautiful.”
I turned.
He looked…longer somehow. Weeks of traveling had worn him down. He was tired, leaner.
He was still the most perfect boy I’d ever seen.
“What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t miss seeing you in your new dress,” he said, a ghost of a smile lighting his face. “I was right. That is the perfect shade for you.”
A charming deflection.
Of course.
He pressed his lips into a sober line, as if sensing my thoughts. “I…I realized I made a mistake.”
I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest. “Really?”
He nodded reluctantly. “I should have been more open with you. Should have told you…I should have told you so many things. I…I wanted to come back and set things right, Ellerie.”
It was everything I’d wanted to hear. Everything I hoped for, in the dark of night when I found myself unable to sleep, remembering our last conversation and wishing I’d said so many things differently.
Even still, I hesitated to believe him.
“Then start with something simple,” I challenged. “What’s your name?”
He sighed. “I don’t want to talk about my name right now.”
“You don’t want to talk about anything ever,” I reminded him, irritation flaring in my throat. “If you thought coming back would be such a grand gesture that I’d forget everything else, you were mistaken.”
My heart ached even as it knew I spoke the truth.
“That…that wasn’t all. I wanted to tell you…”
“What?” I snapped. I took a step forward, showing him—showing myself—I could be in his presence without running into his arms.
Whitaker scratched his neck. “I…”
“What, Whitaker? Tell me this one thing. No excuses. No tactics. Just answer me.”
“I…” He jangled his fingers in a flurry of suppressed motion. “I realized…I care about you, Ellerie. Deeply. Maddeningly. And I…I don’t know what to do and I’m obviously getting it completely wrong, but I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you, of leaving you here, not knowing how much I love…”
My heart stilled even as Whitaker trailed off with a sigh.
“So I came back, and now I don’t…I don’t know what I’m doing.” He looked up to the ceiling. “I’ve made a giant mess of this all, but I know…I would rather be here, with you hating me, than anywhere else in the world.”
His open confession stunned me. It wasn’t the truth I’d expected from him, but it was a start.
It was a good start.
“I don’t…I don’t hate you,” I murmured carefully.
“You don’t?”
“I couldn’t.”
He frowned, fighting hope. “Why?”
I wanted to bridge the distance between us, but my feet were planted to the floorboards, roots deep and unyielding. “I…I care about you too much to ever hate you.”
He let out a breath. “You do?”
“Deeply. Maddeningly, even.” His words tasted bittersweet on my tongue. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to forget everything.”
“Oh.”
I’d wounded him.
“I…This is a lot to think over.”
He lowered his eyes. “Of course.”
“I’ll need some time.”
And time was something I had very little of at present.
“I…I don’t suppose you’ll have thought everything over by the social?” He swallowed uncomfortably as his attempt at lightheartedness fell flat.
“You shouldn’t go to that.” I tried keeping my voice even but firm. It pained me to keep secrets from Whitaker, but it wasn’t as if he was ever entirely forthcoming with me. This leveled out the field a bit.
After a beat, he nodded, amber eyes full of sorrow. “If that’s what you want.”
It wasn’t. Not really. Inside my chest, my heart screamed out his name so loudly, he must have heard it. But I bobbed my head. “I think it best. For now.”
“I should get going, then. Let you finish…” He gestured toward the mirror. “All that.”
He turned to leave but then changed directions, striding across the room in the blink of an eye. Surprised, I stepped backward, catching my foot on the corner of the bedpost.
He caught my elbow, steadying me, and for the longest second, we gazed into each other’s eyes.
“I mean it, Ellerie. You look so terribly beautiful.”
He reached out with tentative fingers, cupping my cheek, his touch lighter than a warm summer rain.
I should have pushed him away, righting myself. Should have stormed off to sort out my confusion far, far away from the alluring glint of his eyes.
But he was so warm.
He was warm and solid and so impossibly strong. I grasped his shoulders, our faces close enough for me to feel the soft caress of his breath. His fingers curved at the nape of my neck, sinking into the curls, and a maddening need seized me, aching to forget the fight, forget my anger, forget everything that had gone wrong between us.
Before I could do any of those things, Whitaker was off, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead and disappearing down the stairwell.
The sun streamed down, bright and sparkling as we made our way to the town square. Soaring oak trees bordered its edge, providing ample shade, and colorful pennants hung swagged throughout their branches, forming a festive bower. Beneath their zenith, Thaddeus McComb and his sons tuned their fiddles, preparing for the dancing to come, and all around us, people were laughing and happy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen so many smiling faces in town.