Page 105 of The Outsider
“Hiraeth,” I said. “It’s a Welsh word that refers to a feeling of deep longing for a time or place that no longer exists. A kind of homesickness tinged with grief. I read it in a poem once.”
To my surprise, that got a small smile from him.
“Should’ve known that my smart fiancée would have just the word for my particular flavour of feeling sorry for myself.”
I kissed his cheek. “You’re allowed to grieve, John. Remember what I said about your bone-deep capacity for love? Your grief is just all that love with nowhere to go.”
He sighed shakily and kissed the top of my head, finally returning my embrace. He reached for the lantern and held it up to me, showing me the flickering candle inside.
“I light it every time I come here,” he said. “For them. Wherever they are.”
I nodded and kissed him. He clung to me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek, and kissed me back in a way that likely wasn’t entirely appropriate for a gravesite…but I felt the desperation and need in that kiss. He needed to know that he wasn’t alone, that we were in this together now.
“I’m not afraid of your pain, love,” I said when we broke apart, smoothing his hair away from his face.
He gave a small shudder, then pulled me against him again, resting his head on top of mine. Snow began to fall softly in small, intricate flakes, nesting in my hair and eyelashes—a cold kiss from winter itself.
We sat quietly, watching it float down to earth, until John finally said, “Want to get warm, baby? I’m ready.”
I nodded again, lifting my head. I pressed a kiss against my gloved fingers, then pressed them to the cold headstone. John’s expressionfaltered at the gesture, but then he took my hand, and we stood together. I carried the lantern as we headed back towards the house, making a brief stop at the woodshed for firewood.
John loaded my arms full of firewood before bending to pick up his own share. I was forced to awkwardly set down the lantern, blowing harshly to extinguish the candle inside, before heading out into the darkness of night.
“Sorry,” John said as we left. “I forgot the sledge up at the house last time I did this.”
“It’s alright,” I replied with a small smile. “I get to watch my handsome man hauling stuff, so it’s not all bad.”
That got a chuckle out of him. Only the light coming from the farmhouse windows was visible through the darkness, so we followed it like a north star to home and safety. The darkness held within it the fathomless depth of both love and loss, of endings and new beginnings, of the thousand tomorrows we’d create together.
Chapter 29
John
Hours after my graveside visit, I was near the end of a midnight patrol. Ghost didn’t seem to mind the late-night shifts, but I was fucking wiped. I knew it was a standard test for new recruits, to push us a little and see if we could cope, but I’d be damn glad when it was over.
I rode towards the Lodge, where we normally did our shift change. Danny was supposed to relieve me. I had a feeling that he’d scheduled himself on more night shifts just to see me. It was like old times. We sometimes had a quick bite to eat together before he relieved me. Other than that, the only other person on patrol tonight was Sadie, a tall, sharp woman who had four kids and took zero shit from anyone.
I spotted him standing outside the Lodge with his horse, Bolt, geared up to go. He waved me over. As Ghost and I pulled up beside them, both our radios came to life at once.
“Star to Command, reporting suspicious smoke in Summerhurst area. Investigating.”
My heart leapt, and Danny frowned.
“Received,” he said into his radio. “You smell smoke?”
The reply took a minute, but eventually, Sadie said, “That’s a yes, Command. Will update when I know more.”
I turned Ghost around, then galloped towards home. I heard Danny call after me, but I didn’t stop. Might’ve been insubordination, but I couldn't make myself care. My fiancée and my sister were at home, asleep, and I wasn’t going to wait for permission to help them.
Hooves beat the ground behind me, and I knew that Danny was following. We raced toward Summerhurst, and as we got closer, a column of smoke appeared, rising into the night sky. It was hard to see in the dark, but Sadie had a keen eye. Sure enough, my radio crackled to life again at my hip.
“Command, smoke is confirmed to be a fire. Looks like an outbuilding at Summerhurst. Alerting residents now.”
“Shit,” I muttered, urging Ghost to go faster, even though she was already galloping at full speed. I lifted my radio to my lips. “Star, this is Ghost. Confirm resident safety. Please.”
The silence that followed was torture, even though it was unlikely Claire or Kimmy would be near an outbuilding at this time of night. Ten minutes later, I was on the homestead. The air smelled like a bonfire, which wasn’t a good sign, and as I got closer to the house, orange flames lit up the night.
The woodshed was ablaze. By the look of it, we’d missed the worst of the fire; the shed was already black and partly collapsed.
