“I knew you were my favorite older sister for a reason, Mal.” I walked over to the bowl and swiped a finger in the dough—oatmeal with currants. It had been Grandad’s favorite.
Mally leaned close. “I miss him, too.” She glanced down at the counter. “I sometimes think that if Liss and Grayse had really gotten to know him, if they’d heard more of his stories like we did, they’d want to see the world with us.”
“Remember his tale of traveling through England with a circus, shoveling horse muck for pocket money?”
“Or the time he traveled to Egypt with a shipping company just to see the pyramids?” Mally grinned.
I laughed. “That one wasn’t true!”
“No,” Mally gasped. “He swore it was! Remember—” She stopped short as the water bubbled over.
I grabbed a spare rag to wipe up the spill. “Have you stopped to think of how much trouble we’re going through for a total stranger?”
Mally nodded. “Aye, but that lad out there could’ve died. His bandages need to be changed as often as we can manage.” A familiar gleam entered her eyes. “He’s rather handsome when he’s not running his mouth, isn’t he? If he were a few years older, and I wasn’t so serious about Artur, I’d try to find out if he tastes as good as he looks.”
“Mal,” I groaned. “He could be anyone! He could have ten wives for all we know. Or be an expert thief.”
“He’s an odd one. I’ll grant you that. The first time I tried putting balm on his wounds, he licked it off! Like he thought it was a treat! And he eats with his hands all the time,” Mally giggled and tossed her dark gold hair over her shoulder. “But I’m still right, Bry. Admit it. He looks de-licious.” She emphasized the words by tapping her finger against my nose, leaving traces of dough behind.
It was easy to forget Mally was twenty-one and not sixteen. If only she and I had been born a year apart, we could have planned our escape together.
Mally swept over to the stove. “Will you grab the tongs and pull out the bandages?”
“If I must.”
“Don’t tell me the witch’s apprentice is squeamish over clean bandages.” Mally failed to fight back a grin. “Fenella Kewish swore to me that you’re learning to pickle toads and carve bat hearts while the rest of us are sweeping and doing the wash. She saw you gathering flowers near the hill today, and she reckons Morag’s training you up to be the town’s new witch.”
Using the tongs, I yanked the bandages from the water and dropped them on a plate.
“Just because I know almost every plant on the Isle doesn’t make me any closer to being a witch than Mrs. Gill is.” I shrugged. “People here will believe anything. The wilder the tale, the better.”
Had the rumors about Morag ever drifted up to her cottage? Did she care? A gossip like Fenella Kewish making up stories about me didn’t give me pause, but if the town regarded me the way they did Morag … I’d move a lot farther away than up a hill.
Mally glided to the table. “Fenella’s also the one who claimed to have spotted me kissing twelve lads last summer.” She shook her head. “Some folks’ lives are so dull. If they spent more time kissing, and less time worrying about everyone else—”
“You’d never get another moment alone with Artur because you’d be too busy delivering babies.” I smirked as I slid into a chair.
“Artur!” Mally smacked a hand to her forehead. “I almost forgot. I promised to meet him tonight!”
“Where? It’ll be dark soon.”
Mally dabbed her face with a clean rag and combed her fingers through her hair. “That’s between him and me.” Her voice was light, teasing. “But listen, I need a favor.”
Favors for Mally usually involved organizing her wardrobe or braiding her hair. Nothing too taxing. “Name it.”
“I need you to change Fynn’s bandages.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“There are clean ones on the table by the sofa. It’s simple enough.” Mally whirled to the stove to check on the biscuits. “I’ll explain while we eat.”
Seeing Fynn naked as the day back on the beach had certainly been educational, but I couldn’t change his bandages while he was awake and talking. “Can’t it wait till you return, Mal? Please? I’m not skilled at caring for others the way you are. If there’s anything else—”
“Just changing the bandages is all.” Mally squeezed my shoulder. “You’ll do fine. I’ve been keeping the wounds clean, and they don’t smell. Unless …” She crouched by my chair, her lips curved with mischief. “You’re scared to try.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I scowled at her. “I’m not scared. I’m the one who saved him, remember? I’m sure I’ll manage.”
When the biscuits came out of the oven, Mally hardly gave them a minute to cool before shoving one in her mouth. “Too hot!” she yelped. Her words were muffled by biscuit crumbs. She flung her apron over the back of a chair and breezed out of the kitchen.