Guilt slices through me, like Mum’s caught me out doing something shameful.
She gives me a pained look. “Cale. You don’t have to feel bad about confiding in Ryah. She’s your friend. I think it’s wonderful that you talk to her. Wouldn’t you rather tell her yourself that you’re falling in love with her?”
“Look, stop that. I’m not telling her anything, and you’re not going to say a word, either. I forbid it.”
Mum’s eyebrows raise. “Is that how you address your performers, ringmaster?”
“No. Only meddling mothers.” I’ll just have to be more guarded with Ryah. If I tell her how I feel about her and she thinks she feels the same way, if she smiles at me, wants to be near me…
I close my eyes briefly. If she kisses me again, I won’t be able to stop myself from getting as close to her as I possibly can. Every inch of her body, and her heart.
“Cale—”
“Thank you for you input, mother,” I say tightly. “Now let’s change the subject.”
“You only call me mother when you’re annoyed.”
“I know I do, mother. Now excuse me, I’ve got packing to do.” I put the packages of cookies aside and head blindly out the back door, pretending to be on my way to something important behind the stables. Where I can be alone.
Wouldn’t you rather tell her yourself that you’re falling in love with her?
I press my fist against the wall and feel splinters driving into my flesh. The risks are too great. I almost lost control the night our lips met by accident. I kissed her then and I shouldn’t have. I wanted to go on kissing her. I wanted everything from her, and I still do.
I don’t know how to love Ryah just a little, so I’d better not love her at all.
Chapter Nineteen
Ryah
It feels like we’re only just getting settled in when it’s time to leave. On the afternoon before we depart, I find myself standing in the garden, trying to picture Cale here as a boy. Playing among the flowerbeds, chasing his big sister around, eating ice-cream in the sunshine. A loving, happy home, until it wasn’t. We used to be so innocent, until we had our innocence knocked out of us.
I see Cale come out of the stables with some horse tack in his hands, and my heart turns over with longing. I wish I knew what to do with this restless energy which threads my body whenever I see him. This impossible energy. Whenever I try to get close to him, he pulls away or pretends like nothing’s happened. Each time the chasm of hurt gets greater.
I go back inside and find Mrs. Hearn in the warm kitchen, folding a pile of laundry that’s mounded higher than her head.
“Do you know what belongs to which person?” she asks me, frowning at a green hooded sweater.
“More or less.” I sort the clothes into piles and start folding myself. I’m going to miss the warmth and convenience of this lovely home when we’re back on the road. I love the exposed wooden beams above, dark against the white plaster walls. The willow pattern china and the rustic terracotta tiles in the kitchen. I’m going to miss sitting around the big old dining table and eating by candlelight.
Most of all, I’m going to miss Mr. and Mrs. Hearn. They’re such wonderful, welcoming people. To look at them, you’d never imagine that they’d suffered such tragedy. I like them even more knowing that they raised Cale and can see how much they love him. Good men don’t come about by accident.
“Do you have any siblings, Ryah?” Mrs. Hearn smiles at me over the pair of jeans she’s folding.
I reach for a sweater and concentrate as hard as I can on folding it. Questions about my family make me nervous. “No, it was always just me. And Dandelion, once I grew into her. I had a pony first.”
“Do you want children?”
I look up in surprise. “Oh, yes. I suppose I do. One day. I can’t imagine what my life would be like, though. I mean, it would be hard to have a baby on the road, wouldn’t it?”
Mrs. Hearn considers this. “It would. But there’s plenty of space here.”
I frown at her, puzzled, wondering why she’d think I’d bring a baby here. It’s not my home. Before I can question her about this, she calls out to Anouk and Aura to come and get their clothes, and there’s so much talk of getting back on the road that the conversation just ends there.
The next morning we hurriedly pack the last of our things into the freshly cleaned and sparkling wagons. The horses are looking as bright and refreshed as the rest of us and almost seem eager to get back on the road.
It’s an hour past sunrise and we’re still saying our goodbyes. I tell Cale’s dad that I’ve had such a wonderful time and I can’t thank him enough for having me. Mr. Hearn clasps me warmly and tells me to come back next year.
Mrs. Hearn embraces me and gives me a kiss. “Be patient with Cale. He has a hard time with these sorts of things.”