“That kiss in front of the Wittens”—he lowered the ice to his lap—“that was your first then, wasn’t it?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” I shrugged again. “I don’t even know if we can genuinely call that a real kiss, either.” I continued to pick at the basket, although I drew my hand away when I realized how much the sound of the wicker echoed across the rafters.
“Come here,” he said in a whisper.
I raised my eyes to his. “What?”
He lowered the ice to the floor on the other side of him. “I want to give you a real kiss.”
I snorted. “You mean a pity kiss?”
“No. A thank-you kiss.”
I traced my finger across the edge of a floorboard. “I thought you didn’t want girls, Joe.”
“It doesn’t matter. I want to give you a good kiss that will erase the one in the woods. That shouldn’t have been your first.” He tugged on my wrist with a gentle pull. “Come here.”
I snickered. “Your nose is all swollen. What if I bump it with my nose?”
“Just”—he slid me closer to him—“come here.”
I scooted over to his side.
We both smiled and laughed a little, our heads bent close to each other. Then his face sobered. He cupped his right hand behind my neck and pressed his lips against mine with a kiss soft and sweet. Not the kiss of a lover, or a brother, or even just a friend. A kiss that defied explanation. One that eased all the way through me with an unexpected sense of peace.
Our mouths left each other with a gentle sound, and we remained side by side, my legs bent toward his. His hand left my neck and returned to his thigh, and then to the cloth filled with ice, which he pressed against his nose again.
“We should get you some food.” I slid myself back over to the basket. “I also brought—”
A twig cracked outside the stable.
Joe and I stiffened, our shoulders squared toward the stable door. I refused to breathe—refused to move even the tiniest muscles in my fingers—and I forgot all about the derringer crammed down inside its new hiding spot in my boot. Wind whistled between the boards in the roof and rattled across splinters and nails in the rafters. A chill seeped down my body, starting at the roots of my hair, slicing down the length of my back.
Joe scooted himself toward me.
“It . . . it’s funny,” he said in a whisper. “I’m finding myself sitting here, p-p-praying that’s just your father’s ghost out there.”
The wind toyed with the door, nudging at the wood, as though a person with weak hands attempted to push it open. I heard a gentle tap-tap-tap, and the chill washed all the way down to my feet, until every inch of my skin sweated ice.
“Joe,” I said. “I’m frightened to death.”
“It’s all right.” He slid all the way next to me. “It’s probably just—”
Footsteps! I distinctly heard footsteps scuffling across the dirt outside.
Joe wrapped his arm around me. “It’s probably . . .”
I grabbed hold of him by his waist.
Bursts of yellow light traveled past the slats in the boards, rushing toward the door.
I froze and whimpered in fear. Joe pulled me close, clasped my head to his chest, and cussed under his breath.
The door flew open and banged against the stable wall with a crash as loud as a gunshot, and I screamed and clung to Joe. My greatest fear manifested before my eyes: a half-dozen figures in white hoods and robes—red insignias on their chests, round black holes for eyes—pushed their way into the stable with lanterns burning bright. I flew into a panic and tried to climb up Joe’s shoulder, just trying to get away—somewhere, anywhere—and then hands clamped down on my arms and tore me away from him. Klan members descended upon him, and although Joe thrashed and kicked, they slammed him down on his stomach, tied a cloth around his mouth, and strapped another around his wrists, which they forced behind his back.
Someone yanked a cloth around my mouth, too. The bindings tore into my lips and my cheeks, and my attackers pulled my hair when they tied the knot behind my head. No one spoke—all I heard were panicked grunts from both Joe and me and the swiftness of feet bustling around us—and I wanted to cry out, Say something! Show me you’re people and not faceless creatures. My eyes bulged. I tried to keep my head facing Joe, to see what they’d do to him. My knees buckled and banged against the floor, but those hooded devils pulled me to my feet and wrenched me out of the stable. They pulled Joe out, too, and dragged him away, ahead of me.