Twilight fell pleasantly across the wide-open farm yard, casting a rosy light over the ruddy earth, and bathing the tops of the barns and trees with crimson. The air was soft and still, save for the sounds of lazily snorting horses, freshly returned to their stalls to quiet down for the night, and the lone, squeaky wheel of an old barrow pushed by a young woman with a long plait of pale-gold hair along her spine. She walked between the long stables, her worn leather shoes crunching softly on the gravelly soil. Another pair of feet followed close behind; those of a young man, tall and sturdy, red-haired and faintly freckled. A sack was slung over his shoulder, held tightly with both hands, and a grin was on his face.
“Haven’t you ever had a lad fancy you, then?” he said, panting a little with the weight of his burden.
Brynleigh felt an odd surge in her pulse, but outwardly, only a light laugh was given. “Of course not,” she answered, turning the corner of the building and continuing on, speaking over the rhythmic squealing of the barrow wheel. “Father would never stand for such a thing.”
The boy chuckled in turn. “Don’t be too sure,” he said, adjusting the bag with a little cock of his spine. “You’re getting to that age now, where fathers want to marry off their daughters. And fellows will start looking for daughters to marry.”
Her pace hitched a tiny bit, but continued on. The fluttering in her chest became something odd and uncomfortable at the thoughts stirred by these words. “Don’t be ridiculous, Théo,” she said. “Father needs me here to work.” She arrived at the open stable door and thrust the barrow in, following after it with sharp, determined steps, as if to outrun what he was suggesting. “Besides, no one is looking at me to marry me, anyway.”
As she fled along the dim corridor between the stalls, she heard the sound of the sack hitting the floor with a heavy thud. “Now how would you know?” he pressed, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “How do you know what’s going on in mens’ minds, huh?”
“I don’t need to know!” she snapped, and instantly regretted her tone. But somehow, her mouth was funneling the strange, giddy panic that throbbed behind her breast, and the words kept spilling out. “I don’t need to know because no one comes here anyway, unless they’re looking for a horse, and then it’s the horses they’re looking at. Not me!” She set the wheelbarrow down hard and glared at it.
“Bryn,” came a softer reply.
She heard his footsteps drawing closer. Embarrassed by her outburst, she stood still, looking away from him. A hand came down gently on her elbow, the fingers wrapping around it and pulling lightly in an effort to turn her.
“Come now,” he said in the same, soothing voice. The sort of voice used to quiet an agitated horse. “Hey. Look at me.”
Another tug at her arm, and she could not continue to punish her friend with avoidance. Her shoes scuffed softly against the straw-covered floor as she rotated, a little at a time. Once he had succeeded, his hand released her, dropping to his side. She looked at his fingers, unwilling to meet his eyes just yet.
“Hey,” he repeated, softer still, and his voice was like warm water poured over ice, eroding the awkward embarrassment that kept her from looking up at him. She bit and chewed at her bottom lip, lifting her eyes sluggishly until they reached his face.
A good-natured smile sat on his lips. “What are you afraid of?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders. “Women get married all the time. It’s…it’s nothing to be so worried about.”
Brynleigh’s sapphire eyes slid away to one side. Her teeth continued to work restlessly against her lip. “I’m just not ready for all that,” she muttered. Glancing back down to her shoes, she dragged the toe of one through a little pile of dried manure that hadn’t been scooped properly. “What about you? Have you had a girl fancy you before?”
A brief silence ensued. Then a soft-spoken answer. “I don’t know.” His voice ended with a tiny rise, as if he were asking a question. Curious, she raised her gaze back to his face.
His pale blue eyes were pinned on her in a way that was alarmingly direct. So much so that she blinked in surprise at the sight of him. And then suddenly, the entire conversation was illuminated with meaning. The light of understanding flooded through her mind, and in a fraction of time too small to count, she knew that he was no longer her friend; some subtle, irreparable, permanent shift had occurred. He was not looking at her now in the way a friend looked at a friend, but in the way a man looked at a woman.
Dumbfounded, she felt her mouth hanging open, and her eyes blinking slowly. She was frozen. Mute.
Théo’s cheeks were suddenly as red as his hair. His long, thin fingers twitched and curled into fists at his sides. “You don’t look very pleased at the idea,” he murmured, and his brow pinched as he glanced away.
She felt herself breathe again once his eyes had let go of her. How long had she been standing there, gaping? She felt her hand gripping the wheelbarrow’s rough, wooden handle. She could see the last bits of warm, golden sunlight streaming through the open doorway. She heard a hoof clomp down in one of the stables. The world was still going. Why couldn’t she find something to say?
The boy’s eyes darted to her face. She saw him wince slightly at the expression he saw, and he turned quickly away again. “Sorry,” he mumbled, clearing his throat hoarsely and spinning on his heel. She watched his tall, gangling form begin to walk away, his shoulders hunched, his hands fumbling for the pockets in his trousers.
Her lips moved with infuriating slowness, her voice raspy and dry. “Théo, wait!” she whispered, too softly for him to hear. He turned the corner of the doorframe and vanished from sight. She swallowed, coughed, and tried again. “Théo!” A little louder this time. She waited. She watched the fading beam of sunlight for his returning shadow. But it did not appear.
All at once, the strange, giddy energy that had stiffened and silenced her, fled away in a great rush, and she sank back onto an overturned bucket with a thump. Minutes ticked past while she sat, and stared at the open stable door, and thought. And then, for reasons she didn’t understand, she smiled.
