"The Widow and The Stranger"

by Erin M. Kinch

 

One of his eyes died when the city fell. If you looked deeply into it and unfocused your gaze just a little, you could see waves churning over the spot where the grand city once stood—like how you can hear the ocean in a sea shell. Of course, I didn’t know that at first; in public, Jadon wore an eye patch.

No one could dispute the fact that he was handsome—tall, broad shoulders, hair the color of honey, and an eye as blue as the sky on a warm summer day. Then there were the hints of his wealth, like renting the cabin on the edge of Fellis Forrest for an entire year and paying in advance.

The more notable gossips turned out to watch him move in—I’d heard reports of mysterious boxes and unknown gadgets. There were also rumors of strange lights in the windows at all hours of the night, homegrown herbs, and other evidence of sorcery; I, of course, dismissed those as poppycock, as did most people. No one knew why he’d come to the parish, but the matchmaking mamas assured each other that he must be searching for a wife. Every single man needed a wife, after all.

The first time I met Jadon, he strolled into my shop like he owned the place, surveying and dismissing most of the goods, though my shop had the newest merchandise in the whole parish. My Charlie, God rest his soul, might never have taken me abroad, but he’d taught me the whys and wherefores of business.

“Can I help you, sir?” I asked. Even if I hadn’t heard the gossip, I would have known who he was. Strangers were a rarity in Rosebottom.

Jadon lingered before the display of specialty items in a locked glass cabinet. “How much for the purple crystal?” He spoke without turning around, his deep voice rumbling like an earthquake in his chest.

The prospect of a good sale excited me, but I stayed calm. Charlie always said that the person who wants it most takes the loss, and his words had been proven true time and again. Memory of the grandfather clock fiasco still haunted me.

“I can’t take less than a hundred,” I informed him. “It was imported from the Far East.”

He turned, his stance determined. “It’s a specimen of poor quality—I’ll give you twenty.”

If I hadn’t detected the slight amusement lurking deep in his gaze, I might have been offended. Instead, I closed my ledger book and rounded the counter to face him and better play the game. “I dare you to find better anywhere in the parish.”

“Perhaps, but the quality is still inferior to those already in my collection.” He revealed an amulet hanging beneath his brown vest—a similar purple stone surrounded in gold scripted with symbols I did not recognize. The well-defined facets shone more vibrantly than the crystal in my display, but that did not invalidate my bargaining point.

“I will sell it to you for eighty and nothing less.” I walked briskly to the case and unlocked it so he could study the stone without the glass barrier. “I hear the doctor plans to propose to the miller’s daughter. He will need a stone for a ring. The mayor’s wife has a birthday next month and a weakness for purple. Both will pay my asking price within the fortnight.”

Want flickered in his expression. “I’ll pay forty now, and you won’t have to wait for your other prospects.”

The latch snicked into place and I tucked the key into my skirt’s deep pocket. “Perhaps I can show you something else?”

“Nothing else in your shop is worth my attention.”

A master haggler! If he angered me enough, he thought he could take advantage of my emotions and broker a rash deal. I hadn’t had such fun in ages. With carefully cultivated politeness, I replied, “Have a pleasant afternoon, then.”

“You as well, Mrs. Kirby.” Jadon touched the brim of his hat and his eye fluttered in an unmistakable wink before he strode out of the shop. He did not return for thirty-seven days.

The day he again crossed my threshold, fall had draped the oak tree outside my shop with hues of red and orange that rivaled the vibrancy of my new shipment of silks. The pins holding up my heavy chestnut hair dug into my scalp, as irritating as news that the doctor had traveled to the coast to buy a ring for the miller’s daughter.

“I will buy the crystal for sixty-five,” Jadon announced without preamble. He didn’t walk to the case to see if it was still there.

Forgetting the pain in my head, I dove eagerly into the negotiations, this time smelling a sale. “Seventy is my limit, but if you accept that offer, you must also pledge to say you paid a hundred.” I waited silently while he considered.

When he leaned forward to place the coins on the counter, his amulet swung free. The crystal in the center had lost considerable luster and clarity since his last visit. Jadon quickly stuffed it back beneath his shirt.

“My stone?” He arched an eyebrow at me, and I found myself blushing. I hadn’t blushed before a man since my wedding night! I hastened to the cabinet and retrieved the crystal.

Jadon’s fingers brushed mine when he claimed his prize, and my breath caught. The blush deepened when I noticed staring at me. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “If you receive any more of these, I want to see them before they go on display.”

Squelching my strange reaction in favor of good business, I replied, “I could ask my contact on the coast to look for precisely this type of crystal. He’s quite good, as reflected by his rates. It will cost you an additional 15 percent, and if you choose not to purchase the stones, you must still reimburse the inquest fee.”

“That’s quite a price.” The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, and a dimple appeared in his left cheek.

“You’re welcome to find your own contact.”

That day, Jadon left without responding, but three days later I received a note on embossed paper written in the most elegant script I’d ever seen. The note politely asked me to proceed with my inquiries for the fee we had discussed.

#

My contact outdid himself. It took almost four weeks, but he found three purple crystals, all larger and of better quality than the original. Jadon had not been to town for several days, much to the matchmakers’ dismay, so as soon as I closed up shop, I harnessed my old bay and rode out to his cabin.

“Who’s there?” His voice sounded haggard in response to my business-like knock.

“Sarah Kirby,” I called. “I have your merchandise.”

When Jadon opened the door, I scarcely recognized him. Bronzed skin had wrinkled and paled; blond hair had turned a jaundiced gray; even the vivid blue of his patch-less eye was rheumy and dim. The stone in the amulet around his neck was clear as glass. My business acumen failed me—instead of completing the purchase, I stared at him in shock, the velvet pouch of stones dangling in my grasp. He thrust more money than we’d discussed into my hands and snatched the pouch with trembling fingers.

“Join me for a cup of tea?” he asked. Then his mouth quirked in that familiar smile, breaking my paralysis. My fear drained away, replaced by avid curiosity, and I entered the snug little cabin. A small fire sparked merrily in the hearth, and the tea things were spread on the hand-hewn wooden table as if he’d been expecting me.

“Please pour the tea,” Jadon called from the bedroom. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

I took the seat closest to the fire and poured tea for us both. When Jadon emerged from the bedroom, one of the new crystals rested in the amulet; he stood straighter and moved easier than he had before. Suddenly, those whispers of sorcery seemed much less like poppycock.

“The stones,” I began, trying to reason it out, “you put them in your amulet and…” He lowered himself carefully into the other wooden chair, obviously waiting for me to finish. I glanced down to stir my tea, and when I looked back at Jadon, I blinked. No, my eyes hadn’t deceived me—there was definitely less gray in his hair than when he’d answered the door and his eye was clear. “The stones cure you?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Jadon poured milk into his tea, his fingers moving with only the barest hint of a tremor.

I tasted my tea. The brew was strong and spiced, warming me from the inside out. Briefly, I thought of how my crow’s feet and laugh lines seemed to deepen by the day. “Might I ask where you came by this miraculous amulet? Was it… sorcery?”

He chuckled. “No, not sorcery. These amulets were common in the city where I was born, but they would not work for you.” He sipped his own tea, the delicate china cup looking strange in his large hands.

“Why not?” I challenged him, a hint of asperity in my voice. He needed to know that, though I was a woman alone, he could not bamboozle me.

“My homeland was special; these crystals are all we have left.” He held the amulet out to me. “You can try it, if you like.”

When I put it on, I felt nothing unusual—no burst of youthful energy, no tingling, nothing but the slight warmth the metal had from his skin. A small mirror hung on the wall behind the table. Though he had looked younger moments after replacing the crystal, my crow’s feet didn’t shrink and none of my gray hairs darkened.

“Are you convinced?”

I handed the necklace back. “The gossips say you are five and thirty. I take it they are incorrect.”

His lips twitched with suppressed amusement. “Five and thirty is a vast underestimate.” He contemplated me over the rim of his teacup. “If you tell anyone, they won’t believe you.”

“I scarcely believe it myself,” I replied, nibbling one of the biscuits from the plate in the center of the table. They were store-bought, and an expensive brand if I didn’t miss my guess (and I never missed when it came to merchandise). “Why have you entrusted me with your secret? Despite your affinity for barter, you obviously have the funds to travel to the coast and find your own source.”

Jadon placed his cup on its gold-rimmed saucer. “The gossips talk about you, as well, Mrs. Kirby. Your business acumen is renowned in the parish, as are your sealed lips and your equanimity, to their dismay. There are reasons why it would be better if I did not leave the parish just now, and, also, my time here is already allotted to other purposes.”

“Other purposes?” I chuckled. “The parents of all the unmarried ladies will be distraught if they find out.”

“A wife is the last thing I need,” Jadon said with surprising fervor.

“I understand how you feel,” I replied. “Having and losing one husband was more than enough for me.”

Jadon contemplated me, and I couldn’t help but notice the changes. If he’d looked eighty before, now he was less than sixty.

“Your husband is scarcely mentioned in town,” he said.

Visions of Charlie’s laughing face next to mine on our down pillows floated through my thoughts. “He died young. The doctor said it was pneumonia. We were scarcely married a year when I was but three and twenty.”

“I lost my wife, as well. A terrible tragedy overcame our city—she did not survive it. I used to wish I had not either.”

I covered the twinge in my heart by saying briskly, “And yet, we continue to survive, so we must make the most of it.”

“Aye,” Jadon agreed.

He laid his hand over mine; the fingers were straight and strong again. My heart fluttered, tiny butterfly wings beating a rapid staccato against my ribs, something I had not felt in long over a decade. I heard Charlie’s playful shouts in the back of my mind, a memory of him chasing me through our apartment above the shop. When I let him catch me, he would kiss me soundly and carry me off to the bedroom. I disengaged my hand. “I must go.”

“Before you do, I have a business proposition for you.”

He knew how to stay my retreat. “Yes?”

“The stones you brought today will last for a while, but I wish to contract with you to help me build a larger reserve. I will pay whatever fee you deem appropriate.”

The merchant in me perked up at the idea of the money that could be made. Possibly enough for an extended trip outside of Rosebottom Parish. The only time I’d been away was a brief visit to the coast with Charlie. As he visited the shop’s suppliers, I imagined us sailing away on one of the many vessels in the harbor.

“Both your discretion and that of your supplier are of absolute necessity, of course,” Jadon continued.

“I never give my supplier the name of my patrons,” I replied. “It wouldn’t be good for business.”

“Then we have an accord?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I will contact you when more stones arrive.”

He nodded. “I will wait with anticipation.”

#

A week later marked the occasion of the mayor’s wife’s birthday gala. Everyone in the parish was invited and no expense had been spared. I made myself a new gown from a bolt of silver silk set aside from my last shipment. It had a moderately scooped neckline and a full skirt that floated on a bed of crinolines. When I slipped a red rose into my chignon, I felt ten years younger.

Torches flickered around the pavilion in the center of town, making the bunting and ribbons seem to wriggle with life. The smell of pig roasting on the bonfire made my mouth water, and the lively tune plucked by a group of local farmers set my toes to tapping.

“You are a vision tonight, Sarah.” The barber tipped his hat and smiled beneath his handlebar mustache. He’d courted me once. If not for Charlie, I might be Mrs. Barber instead of Widow Shopkeeper, but I couldn’t say I regretted that choice. During our short time together, Charlie had been my match in every way.

“Care for a turn on the dance floor?” he asked.

Before I could reply, a familiar voice said, “I believe Mrs. Kirby promised the next dance to me.”

The barber touched the brim of his hat and relinquished my arm to Jadon without protest. Part of me wished he would have protested, but the part of me that I was trying desperately to ignore had been waiting for this moment all along. Jadon led me into the center of the pavilion, his arms circling me gently as the make-shift band struck up an equally make-shift waltz. He twirled me twice before drawing me into the graceful one-two-three.

“The girls and their mamas are cursing my name,” I murmured.

“Perhaps they’re cursing mine,” Jadon replied, wicked amusement peeking out from the depths of his gaze. He looked virile in a well-cut jacket and trousers with his unruly hair gathered in a small tail at the nape of his neck.

“I sent word to my contact,” I said.

“Excellent.” Jadon played along with my gambit, only the subtle kneading of his fingers on my back hinting at anything more personal than sales. When the waltz ended, Jadon spun me in one last elaborate twirl, then asked, “Would you care for something to drink?” I nodded, and he escorted me to the table where the mayor’s sister held court over a glass bowl of rum punch.

“Why, Sarah,” she announced in a nasal voice. “Don’t you look elegant. I don’t remember that shade of silk—snagging the best items for yourself?” She sloshed sticky punch over my fingers as she handed me a cup. I stifled the urge to call her a sloppy old spinster.

“I’ll have one, as well, ma’am.”

Despite her simpering, she didn’t spill a drop of his punch.

We strolled away from the crowded pavilion toward the stream that ran by the schoolyard, pausing by my favorite willow tree.

“This seems safe,” Jadon said. “Out of the way of both matchmakers and men who want to dance with you.”

The willow’s draping branches were a thin shield between us and the party-goers, as was the dim light this far from the fire. I sipped the punch and found it sweet, the rum warm in my throat. “I suspect I’ve already enjoyed my allotted dance for the evening, unless the mayor takes pity on me. Dancing is for those who are courting, or those who want to impress.”

“And that’s not you?”

“Not for ages.”

Jadon contemplated me for a moment. “Who is Sarah Kirby, then?”

A ghost of a smile flickered over my face. “A widow shopkeeper.”

“I suspect more.”

Maybe it was the rum, but I gave in to the urge to be honest with him. “An aspiring world traveler. If I ever earn enough money, I want to experience life beyond Rosebottom Parish. Charlie and I used to talk about it. The day before he got sick, we discussed booking passage on a ship for a month’s adventure. His father was still alive then and could mind the shop. Sadly, it was not to be.”

“Pity,” Jadon replied. “There is so much in the world a woman of your caliber would enjoy.” After a pause, he added, “I could show you mementos from my travels, if you’re interested.”

Oh, I was interested all right, though I knew that I shouldn’t be. “You could bring them by the shop tomorrow.”

“There are too many to carry,” he replied. “You could come by the cabin.”

“Perhaps…”

“Come tonight.” He dared me with his grin.

Temptation won. “We can’t leave together. People will talk.”

“I’ll meet you behind the shop in an hour.”

#

As soon as it was seemly, I wished the mayor’s wife a happy birthday, ogled over her new ring, and retired gracefully from the party. As I walked away, I turned back for one last peek at the festivities. Several young women clustered around Jadon, hanging on his every word. His eyes met mine over their heads for a split second, and amusement crackled between us like a leftover spark from the bonfire.

When I slipped out the back door a short while later, wearing more practical clothes, Jadon waited in his smart curricle. His horses didn’t make a peep until he gently clucked them into motion on a path that circumvented the town and its prying eyes.

We didn’t converse during the ride; words spoken aloud would have sullied the beautiful night. Moonlight trickled through trees that filtered it into artful patches of silver on the path, on the horses, and on us. Future snow crisped the air, but I didn’t feel cold.

I preceded him into the cabin and wandered through the main room, running my fingers over his keepsakes. A sculpture of a city caught my eye. Rings and canals formed the base of the city, surrounding a castle in the center with airy spires pointing to the heavens. The closer I looked, the more details I saw—tiny horses pulling wagons, oarsmen poling boats, a woman sweeping her porch, a dog darting into an alley—I could almost hear the shouts of the merchants and the lap of water in the canal.

“That’s my home.” He touched the nape of my neck, under my long hair, and my skin tingled.

“The workmanship is exquisite.” My voice caught as the same fingers that wrought such delicate shapes from metal crept down my spine, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“As was the subject.”

“You must miss it.”

“Every day.” Jadon stroked my hair as gently as I’d touched the canal walls of his sculpture. “I like the innocence of unbound hair.”

My cheeks turned as pink as a clueless virgin’s. “You’ve discovered the secret of a woman’s armor.” He leaned closer, and I knew he would kiss me. I laid a hand on his chest to stop him. “I’m here, vulnerable, no armor. Before we… I want to see you without yours.” The stitching around the edges of his eye patch felt rough beneath my fingers. Its blackness seemed to absorb the firelight.

“I don’t want to frighten you.”

“You won’t.”

He turned away, shielding his face from view as he unfastened the leather strap. Despite my promise, a sense of relief washed over me when I saw the patch covered neither a gaping socket nor an eye-less expanse of skin. The eye was there, but strangely motionless; a haze of white covered the blue iris with a milky glow. No, not milk—foam. Angry waves stirring the sea into a foamy frenzy as they devoured the castle’s highest spire.

Then Jadon blinked, releasing me from the waves. For the first time, he looked unsure of himself, so I took the initiative and pressed my lips to his, surrendering to the inevitable undertow.

#

“Did you and your wife have children?” I lay with my head pillowed on his chest, my hair spilling over his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat thrumming against my cheek.

He wove a lock of my hair between his fingers. “We thought we would have centuries together. She wanted to explore first. You remind me of her in that way. What about you and your Charlie?”

“We wanted them.” The pain in my chest surprised me—I’d thought it buried and forgotten long ago. “I had a fever as a child, and there was a chance that it damaged me. Charlie married me anyway. He used to say he wouldn’t give up hope until we tried for ten years. A decade seemed extravagant then.” I rose up on my elbows so I wouldn’t miss a shift in his expression. “Do you do this often? Find women like me?”

He kissed me, his now familiar lips coaxing a warm response, then touched his forehead to mine. “To say never would be a lie, but you would be surprised by how few women I’ve known. Only someone special can tempt me from my solitude.” Then he kissed me again with rising passion, and I allowed myself pleasure in the moment.

#

For the next fortnight, I spent my nights at Jadon’s cabin and we took comfort in each other. He told me stories about his home and the wonders that he’d seen in his travels, and I shared what few stories I possessed. I knew it wouldn’t last forever—neither of us wanted that—but we would enjoy each other while we could.

When my next shipment of goods arrived, my contact had enclosed nearly a dozen of the now precious purple stones. That night I left for the cabin as soon as darkness had fallen, eager to deliver his treasure.

The sight of a lavish carriage in front of the cabin gave me pause, but I knew it didn’t belong to anyone in the parish so I continued to the porch. Harsh voices froze my hand on the door. One voice was Jadon’s; the other must belong to the carriage owner.

“Staying here is absurd!” the stranger exclaimed. “You’ve finished the piece, so pack your things and come with me tonight.” Regret stabbed my heart. Would he leave without the chance for me to say goodbye?

“No,” Jadon replied. “I planned to stay a year, and there is no reason to hasten away.”

“There are millions of reasons, not the least of which is this deuced backwater community. The Court will be in Paris on winter solstice for the Gathering. Your place is with us.”

“No, Damon, it isn’t.” I could hear the delicious sneer in Jadon’s words. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m expecting someone.”

“I didn’t want to resort to this,” Damon said, “but Callin sent me to fetch you.”

I shifted, hoping for a glimpse of the stranger through the window, and a board creaked beneath my feet. Before I could retreat, Damon yanked open the door. He had lighter hair than Jadon, nearly white, and eyes of palest blue. His features were smooth and lovely—like Jadon’s, but harder. A silver amulet covered in the symbols Jadon called the writing of his birthplace hung around the stranger’s neck, one of the purple crystals winking in the center. His pale eyebrows furrowed as he inspected every inch of me, his expression reminding me of Jadon’s that first day in my shop, but Damon was not pretending. I stalked inside, careful not to allow even the hem of my skirt brush him.

“Is she your attachment to this place?” Damon demanded.

Jadon ushered me to a seat by the fire, his gaze alert, but not worried, which put me more at ease.

“Well?” Damon demanded. “Is she? You know relationships with them never last.”

“No,” Jadon replied, “she’s not why I’m still here. I need time away. Six months didn’t change that, and neither do Callin’s orders.”

“If you don’t return with me, he’ll retrieve you himself.” Damon frowned. “You know what that means.”

Jadon opened a large box that sat in the center of the table. Inside, was an elaborate representation of the castle in the middle of the circular city, this one painstakingly carved in wood and painted to the tiniest detail. In the center of the tallest spire was a clock, ticking each second off to infinity. My heart seized at its beauty, and even Damon appeared moved.

“Please deliver this to Callin in my stead,” Jadon said. “It will facilitate the Gathering celebration.”

For a moment, I thought Damon would argue, but then he donned his cloak and hat and picked up the box. “If you persist on this insanity, I can’t intercede for you again. I tried for my sister’s sake, but if you break away, you’ll have to face the consequences on your own.”

Jadon touched Damon’s shoulder in a gesture of farewell. “I release you from any bond my marriage to your sister created. Go in peace.”

“And you, as well.”

We listened until Damon’s carriage was long gone, and then I asked, “Is there anything I can do?”

Jadon knelt beside me. “I have to leave Rosebottom now. They know where I am, and Callin’s displeasure is not a trifling thing.”

“Why won’t you go back?” His hair slipped between my fingers like the finest silk as I smoothed it away from his forehead.

“It’s complicated.” Jadon sighed. “Suffice to say, I’m done with that life. I won’t go back. I’ll soldier on alone as I am able, and when I’m no longer able, I’ll do what they are afraid to—let go.” He kissed me long and hard. The kiss tasted of farewell.

When he finally let me go, I pulled the velvet pouch from my pocket. “My contact sent these with today’s shipment. They should sustain you for a long time.” I detected the glimmer of relief in his eyes, and he found a very pleasurable way to convey his thanks.

#

The next morning, I awoke alone. At first, I thought Jadon had gone to prepare an early breakfast, as he sometimes did, but, as I padded into the main room in my bare feet, wrapped in the quilt to ward off the chill, I understood the truth. Jadon was gone. His prized keepsakes had vanished, and all that remained were the cabin’s original furnishings and a box in the middle of the table, my name written on the top in his elegant script.

Inside, I found an amulet, circular instead of angular, and made of gold. It hung on a gold chain as thin as string. He’d stamped the narrow curled lines that meant friend at each compass point. In the center rested a large diamond, and on the back Jadon had etched a portrait of my face framed by free, unbound hair.

I slipped the amulet around my neck and looked in the box again to find my velvet pouch, stuffed to capacity, and a folded piece of his embossed paper. The note read:

I will always imagine you zealously haggling on foreign soil, exploring the world to your heart’s content. To fund your expedition, I’ve left the byproducts of my amulet, which are valued a great deal in your markets. If you wear the amulet, my people will know you are considered a friend and will help you if you are in need. Farewell.

Sharp edges pressed against my fingers through the pouch’s fabric. I plucked open the drawstring, and a mound of perfect diamonds poured into my hand, so many that I couldn’t hold them all.

After that, things happened rather quickly. The barber’s son agreed to take over as shopkeeper in my absence, and a few weeks later I boarded my first ship—a galleon bound for the Far East. Sailors hastened to make way, and soon the coastline faded into the distance. The moist breeze tickled the back of my neck as open sea spread out before me, and I knew that, somewhere, both Jadon and Charlie were glad.