Chapter 8
A Walk Through Hearthglen
I was about halfway through painting the old windmill on the hill when someone knocked on my front door. I glanced up from my easel toward the clock hanging over the kitchen doorway. Just after one. Who in the world? Setting my palette on the little side table I’d dragged into the living room, I wiped my hands on my already stained apron before making my way to the door.
When I opened it, I blinked. Urchin stood on my porch. “Oh!” Brilliant, Pearl. Very articulate. That seemed to be a theme when it came to this man.
This wasn’t the first time Urchin had been to my little cottage. We’d known each other for a few weeks now, and he always seemed to be coming up with some excuse to come over.
He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can come back later if you’re busy.” He gestured towards my paint covered apron.
“No!” I answered a little too quickly. “I mean… no, you’re fine. I was just painting.”
His eyes drifted past me into the cottage. “You’ve been busy.”
Paintings leaned against nearly every wall now. Some finished. Some only rough sketches. Some barely more than splashes of color. “I guess I have.”
He smiled. “I was actually hoping you’d want to go for a walk.”
“A walk?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “No destination in mind. Just a walk.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “You came all the way out here without a plan?”
“I figured we’d make one.”
I giggled. “I like that.”
“Does that mean yes?” There was subtle hope in his voice.
I glanced back toward my easel. The painting wasn’t going anywhere... hopefully. “I’d love to.”
The walk into Hearthglen felt different this time. Less like I was exploring. More like I belonged. Fields stretched out on either side of the dirt road, dotted with wildflowers swaying in the breeze and the occasional cow and horse. The breeze carried the scent of fresh-cut hay from one of the neighboring farms.
Urchin walked beside me with his hands tucked into his pockets. Comfortable. Unhurried.
“So…” he said, dragging the word out.
“So…” I repeated with the same enunciation.
“You’ve lived here almost a month now.”
“Mhm.” I waited for him to finish his thought.
“Regretting it yet?”
I laughed. “If you’d asked me a week ago, I would’ve said yes. But now? No.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I decided I’m not letting one thing ruin the whole town for me. Nothing else bad has happened.” I shrugged. “Plus, I think the Briarwood won me over the first week, honestly.”
“It has that effect.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” He sounded a little surprised I would ask about him.
“What made you move here?”
His eyes drifted toward the road ahead. “I wanted somewhere quieter.”
“I understand that.”
He glanced over at me. “You do?”
“I’ve always liked quiet.”
“Most people don’t.”
I shrugged. “I think they mistake quiet for lonely.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You don’t seem lonely.”
“I am.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I winced. “Wow. That got depressing fast.” I looked down at the road, scuffing the toe of my shoe through the dirt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dump that on you.”
“I don’t mind.” Something about the way he said it made me believe him.
“I’ve just, ” I searched for the right words. “I’ve never been very good at making friends.”
“You seem to have done alright.”
“Mai adopted me.”
He cracked up. “That sounds accurate.”
I caught a few people glancing at me as we walked. I couldn’t blame them. A Raw wandering into a town like this probably stood out almost as much as a purple Shade would have back home. We eventually ended up pausing on the little stone bridge over the creek. I leaned against the railing. The water sparkled below.
“Sell any more paintings?” Urchin asked suddenly.
A small smile formed on my face. “I sold one this morning, actually.”
His face lit up. “You did?”
I nodded proudly. “To an older couple from town.”
“Congratulations.”
“I almost cried.” I admitted.
“I probably would’ve.”
I laughed. “I managed to wait until after they left, at least.”
“I would’ve cried immediately.”
“I somehow believe that.”
“I wouldn’t even try to hide it.”
We both burst out laughing. As our laughter died out, I looked back down at the creek, the occasional water bug gliding across the surface catching my eye. “I think this might be my favorite spot, other than the lake.”
“It’s mine too. When I first moved here, I’d come sit here after work.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
His smile faltered ever so slightly. Had I asked something wrong? “I do odd jobs.”
“Oh?”
“Yep.”
I could tell that’s all I would get for the moment. “Alright then, keep your secrets.” I teased. He smirked slightly.
We continued our walk. I noticed something after a while. Urchin always stepped to the outside whenever another Berry walked past us. He always let me walk closer to the fences. It was such a little thing that I doubted he even realized he was doing it. It was sweet.
“Can I ask you something?” He said after a while.
“Depends.”
He chuckled. “Why painting?”
“I don’t really know.” I thought about it. “I guess, when I was younger…” I smiled a little. “I had a hard time explaining how I felt.” He stayed quiet. Listening.
“My parents…” I hesitated. “My mother, really, wasn’t exactly supportive.” He frowned. “She hated color. I mean literally. She thought bright colors were… frivolous. That they would ruin our family name and Raw society would shun us.
Everything was white. My clothes. My room. My journals. My paint supplies, the few times she actually allowed it. Everything. Do you know how hard it is to paint with just shades of white and gray?”
He was quiet for a moment. “So painting was…”
“My rebellion.” I smiled. “It started as rebellion, I guess, but somewhere along the way… it became home.” I looked over at him. “I don’t know who I’d be without it.”
His expression softened. “I’m glad you found it.”
I don’t know why, but those five words meant more to me than almost any compliment I’d ever received.
By the time we wandered back toward the town, the afternoon had slipped away. We had been just about everywhere. I’d even seen spots I hadn’t gotten to see yet. We passed the bar just as Cypress was carrying a crate out the front door.
She spotted us immediately. “Well, well.”
I already didn’t like that tone. “What?”
She smirked. “You two have been attached at the hip all afternoon.”
My face flushed. “We were just walking.”
“Mhm.” Cypress grinned. “That’s how it starts.”
Urchin smiled beside me. “We’re just friends.”
“For now.” She disappeared back inside before either of us could defend ourselves further.
I buried my face in my hands. “I am never hearing the end of this. She’s as bad as Mai.” Urchin laughed. I gave him a playful glare. “You think it’s funny.”
“A little.”
“Traitor.”
I bumped his shoulder with mine. He bumped me back. I laughed. A real laugh. The kind that made my stomach hurt. It took me a second to realize something. I wasn’t anxious. Not even a little.
I stopped walking. Urchin looked back. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
I nodded slowly. “It’s just…” How do I explain this without sounding weird? “I’ve only known you a few weeks, but you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”
He looked genuinely caught off guard. “I could say the same thing.”
“Most people wouldn’t.”
He tilted his head. “Because of the anxiety?”
“I usually feel exhausted after meeting someone new.”
“And now?”
I thought about it. We’d spent nearly all afternoon together. I didn’t feel tired. I didn’t feel overwhelmed. I felt… comfortable. “I don’t feel tired.”
When I looked back up, he was smiling. Not the teasing smile I’d seen before. A small, almost relieved one. “I’m glad.”
“So am I.” I smiled back. “I think…” I tittered nervously. “This is probably going to sound strange, but I think… you’re becoming one of my safe people.”
For a moment, he simply looked at me. His expression was warm, but almost sad too? “I’m honored.” The words were quiet. Sincere.
We started walking back toward my cottage. I didn’t notice how much closer we’d drifted together. I didn’t notice our hands brushing every now and then as we walked. I only noticed that, for the first time in a long time, being around another person didn’t make me want to hide. Somehow, that scared me a whole lot more than being alone ever had.