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Page 22 of Mistletoe (Monsters of the Nexus #3)

Chapter Twenty-One

Emma

Nina spat on the ground, glaring at the retreating major and soldiers. Emma shared the sentiment.

Felix hung back. When the major was well out of earshot, he approached Emma. “I want you to know?—”

She held up a hand in warning. “I don’t know what you could possibly have to say for yourself, but I’m not interested.”

“I didn’t tell,” he said. “Mrs. Fairfax made the report.”

“Mrs. Fairfax? Our neighbor?”

“She said the sheriff had ignored her earlier sightings.”

Emma clenched her fist. She had half a mind to go over the Fairfax place and burn down her barn. See how she liked it.

“I did not ignore her report,” Nina said, her tone offended. “I inspected this property personally.”

“She poked her nose around plenty,” Emma agreed.

“Major Pearson knew I had been home on a day pass and wanted to know if I saw anything,” Felix said. He took off his hat and played with the brim nervously.

As well as he should, because Emma knew what the next words out of his mouth were going to be.

“I couldn’t lie to my commanding officer,” he said.

“You should have,” she replied, furious.

“I’d be court-martialed. The law requires that I report all dangerous beasts?—”

“When the law is unjust, it’s acceptable to break the law!” Frustrated, Emma threw her hands in the air. “How can you not know that? It’s the heart of every one of Pa’s poems.”

“You cannot pick and choose which laws to enforce.” He tossed a not-so-subtle glance toward the sheriff.

Nina raised her brows. “The law requires that dangerous beasts be reported. I’ve yet to see any evidence that Hal meets that criterion.”

Felix’s posture changed from that of nervous contrition to defensive. “So, I’m a bastard, is that it?”

Emma wanted to assure him that he was a black-hearted bastard of the first order, but she showed a remarkable amount of restraint. “No, but your commanding officer is. He put you in an impossible situation and he knew it.”

Felix had faced the impossible dilemma of betraying his family or lying to his commanding officer. Once Emma’s anger cooled, she’d find sympathy for him, possibly forgiveness.

“You didn’t report Hal,” Agatha said. “That counts for something. Right, Emma?”

“Yes,” Emma reluctantly agreed. Felix kept his word in that regard.

“Thank you for understanding.” He glanced over his shoulder to check on his retreating company. The last one was nearly out the gate. “I have to leave.”

Emma wagged a finger at him. “I’m still hopping mad.”

“I know. I can only beg for your forgiveness.”

“Don’t ask me. Ask Hal,” Emma said.

Every head turned toward the orc, who seemed surprised to be the center of attention. “Give us time,” he said.

Felix shoved the hat back on his head. “I need to catch up with my unit, or I really will be court-martialed.”

In a moment, he was mounted on the horse and leaving. He glanced back, looking remorseful, and gave a small wave.

Emma returned the gesture, still fuming but certain that she’d forgive him. Just not tonight.

Oscar broke the silence. “Do we form a bucket brigade? Is there anything worth saving?” He ran his hands through his hair, staring in the direction of the fire.

“It’s too far gone, Pa.” The bunkhouse was a complete loss.

Agatha took her husband’s hand. “There’s no wind tonight. It shouldn’t spread. That’s a mercy.”

Clover twisted herself around Emma’s feet. She scooped up the cat and buried her face in fur, thankful to hear that rumbling purr again.

The purr did her in.

So much happened so quickly that her body finally caught up. She had been remarkably calm only minutes ago; now, her heart raced. Her breath hitched in her throat, threatening to choke her. With tears in her eyes, Emma turned to Hal.

He opened his arms. She rushed in, cat and all, for the comforting embrace.

“Tell me you are well,” he said, rubbing her back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’re fine. We’re fine,” she said, voice wobbling.

“Adrenaline crash. It’s normal.”

She sobbed into his chest, cradled against him. Part of her was mortified as she wasn’t a crier. A building was on fire, and she had stood between a literal army and Hal, so the situation was exceptional and tears were allowed.

When her sobs slowed, Hal asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Rattled. Better.” Clover squirmed in her arms and demanded to be released.

“Your lip?—”

“I’m fine. You’ll have to kiss it and make it better.” She tilted her face up, and he obliged.

At some point, Emma grew aware of Nina staring at them. Not in disgust, but intrigued.

Emma stepped away from Hal’s embrace and asked Nina, “Why did you help us? We’re not friends, and you made it crystal clear that you don’t do favors.”

Was it her imagination that Nina flinched, as if hurt by the statement? How odd.

“That base caused me nothing but headaches,” Nina answered. “The soldiers come into town on leave, looking to drink, gamble, and visit brothels, which is all fine and good. Keeps the local economy vibrant.”

Emma nodded. She didn’t have direct experience with those activities, but Sweetwater Point had a justified reputation and she had eyes.

Nina continued, “But there’s always a hothead too quick to use their fists or renege on a bill. I’m expected to keep the peace. My deputies get called out to a brawl of some sort most every night. We arrest who we can, but the military courts have jurisdiction over soldiers. I just keep them in a cell until morning and send them back to base. Your tavern brawl?” Nina asked, sounding exhausted.

“I didn’t start that.”

“I know. I witnessed the entire thing, remember? The man who started that has faced zero consequences.”

“None? You were a witness. Surely they wouldn’t question your word.”

“His commanding officer assured me that he would face ‘stiff consequences,’” Nina said, her tone drifting into the sarcastic. “He cleaned the latrines.”

“Not a pleasant experience,” Emma said, though for the life of her she could not understand why she was defending the military on this. Perhaps she was just too used to opposing Nina that it felt unnatural to agree.

“Latrine duty is for a sloppy uniform or minor infractions. Going into civilian spaces, grabbing a woman without her permission, and threatening her with physical violence are not minor infractions. The military courts cannot be bothered if it didn’t happen on base, making it my problem to clean up.” Nina spat on the ground again. “I’m sick of cleaning up their mess.”

“I’ve never seen you so riled up,” Emma said.

“I’m in the mood to make a mess of my own. If deputizing your friend throws a wrench in Major Pearson’s plans, I’m happy to oblige.”

Hal removed the tin star and offered it back.

Nina shook her head. “That was a serious offer. I want you as a deputy.”

Hal frowned as he looked at the badge. “I’ve never been on the side of law and order before. I’m not sure it agrees with me.”

“You can tell me no, but Pearson will be right back here, and he won’t ask nicely.”

Emma stepped between Nina and Hal. “Don’t threaten us.”

Nina held up her hands in surrender. “I was simply stating the facts. I want three days a week. Friday through Sunday. That’s when the soldiers have their leave.”

“When they cause trouble,” Hal said.

“Exactly. Parade around town and let them see who they’ll be tangling with if they get out of line. That’s what I’m asking.” Nina then quoted a salary that Emma considered to be decent.

“I need a minute to discuss,” Hal said. He drew Emma away a few steps and asked, “Is that a lot of money?”

“It’s a good wage,” Emma answered. “Not too high but not insultingly low.”

“Do we need the money? I don’t know the farm’s finances.”

“We got a bunkhouse to rebuild, and I’m considering significant upgrades.” She had been spending more and more nights in the bunkhouse with Hal, so much so that a permanent move seemed inevitable.

“How significant?” he asked.

“No more cold showers. Life is too short for cold showers.”

He huffed, as if amused by her answer. “Such extravagant tastes.”

The bunkhouse roof collapsed, sending up a plume of sparks.

Maybe a little cottage, a place for her and Hal. That sounded nice.

“Think on it,” Nina said, interrupting her thoughts.

“I will consider your offer,” Hal replied.

Emma rubbed her arms. The last of the adrenaline had left, and she felt cold. She was exhausted, but the night was far from over. “We need to watch the fire until it burns itself out.”

“Do you have it handled, or should I leave a deputy?” Nina asked.

“We’ll manage between us.” Even if it meant they were in for a long, long night.

Hal

“Here.” Hal draped the wool blanket over Emma’s shoulders.

“Thank you.” She ran her fingers over the fabric. “I don’t recognize this one.”

Hal ran a hand up the back of his neck. “I, uh, I made it. For you.”

“You made this?” She inspected the weave closely. Hal wanted to curl up into a ball of concentrated mortification.

He saw every flaw. The way the stripes had a wave because he did not press the reed evenly to ensure that the yarn lay snugly in place. The weave was loose. The pattern of the stripes was nonexistent, just random strips of color based on what material he could find.

“Your mother taught me how to use the loom,” he said. “It is amateur work. Please, give it back, and let me make you another.”

Her hand twisted its hold on the blanket. “Not a chance. This is mine. I love it.”

“Is that the only thing?”

She grinned and stepped closer. “I love you.”

Her words were a balm, soothing every hurt and offering comfort.

“I love you,” he repeated. “You were going to take on an army for me.”

“A small company at most. Easy-peasy,” she said in a teasing tone. Her smile faltered. “I was so scared that man would take you away. I was scared of losing you, but all I could think about was how they’d hurt you, and that scared me more.”

As far as Hal knew, no one had ever cared about the pain and trauma he suffered. Only Emma.

“The nerve of that man, acting like you were a dog he could put a collar on. I hope something truly awful happens to him. I hope he understands what it’s like to have your personhood taken away,” she said with venom. “And I’m so mad at Felix. I know he was under orders, but I’m angry.”

“You will make peace with your brother.”

“Like you made with yours?”

“That is a very pointed question. Their offenses are not the same,” Hal said. One was a soldier sworn to obey their superior officers. The other was a literal monster who imprisoned and experimented on Hal for centuries.

“I’m too tired for you to be this reasonable. Let me be angry for a bit. We’ll bury the hatchet eventually.”

Hal saw the remorse on Felix’s face. He felt confident the siblings would mend their rift. As for his rift with his own brother, he wasn’t ready to forgive. Not yet. Forgiveness did feel possible now, though, which was its own sort of progress.

The sky was a pearlescent gray and growing brighter. Dawn was near.

Hal put an arm over Emma’s shoulder, drawing her closer. She leaned against him, the blanket still wrapped around her.

“I love this place, but it is just a place. If we have to leave to keep you safe, fine. You’re my home,” she said. “What do you want to do, Hal?”

For the first time, he knew the answer.

“I want to be at your side,” he said. “Wherever that is. Whatever you do. If you stay here and raise goats and chickens, I’m staying here. We can grow vegetables and make cheese. We can live in town. Or the city.”

“You’d hate the city.”

“Probably. If you want to go west, we’ll go west. If you want to see what’s over those mountains, we’ll discover what this world has to offer. What I want is to be by your side until the last breath leaves my body.”

“That could be a very long time.”

“Good. I should be so lucky,” he said. “I waited a lifetime and more to find you. Now that I have you, I’m not going a day without you.”

“If we stay, you’ll have to work for Nina. She’ll have that over you. She’s too upright to abuse that power, but it’s power nonetheless.”

“I can work for your friend.”

“She’s not my friend,” Emma said.

“She rode out here on a hunch because she thought we’d need the help and spun a solution out of midair like a witch from a fairy tale to save us. She lied for you. That’s a damn good friend.”

Emma remained silent for a moment, considering this revelation. “I can’t believe she lied for you.”

“Not for me. For you,” he corrected.

She made a muttering noise as she mulled it over. “Well, I’ll be.”

The sun finally rose over the horizon. Vivid reds and deep violets streaked across the sky.

“Let’s stay here and do all those things,” Emma said. “Raise goats. Shepherd sheep. Make cheese. Spin yarn. Weave blankets. I want to build a future with you, starting with a cottage with doors tall enough for you not to bump your head. Everything.”

Everything with her. It was all he wanted.