“You’re not. I’m offering.”
“But I don’t know when I’d be able to pay you back. And you’re already helping me. That’s bad enough.”
“There is nothing owed to us for helping you find your fugitive. Especially not after what happened…” he responds, shifting his body so that he’s shielding me from the shopkeeper’s nosey looks. “Cora, I can’t help but notice you seem to be under the impression that there is shame in needing help. The only true shame comes in not offering it when you have the means. And I do. Buying you some clothes comes as no burden to me, although you catching your death from chill now that we are this far north certainly would. We’re nearly to the mountains.”
“Themountains?” Admittedly, I’d had to reach for a few extra blankets while sleeping in the wagon over the last week but I simply dismissed it as the changing of the seasons. Apparently too busy watching my travel companions to also watch the evolving scenery. What iswrongwith me?
“I’ll be fine,” I mutter. “I’ll manage.”
“You’ll freeze if you have nothing warmer,” he says matter-of-factly. “Unless you’re planning to borrow clothes from me or Aiden.”
“Aiden ishuge,” I say, immediately balking.
“He is indeed,” he replies, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Although, I’m confident we could make it fit.”
“How?” Cypress’s eyes look up toward the ceiling as if he’s praying for help, and I move quickly to change the subject. “Hewouldn’t want me wearing his clothes anyway.”
“Oh, I’m not so…”
“Cypress, really, I’ll be fine.” I cross my arms against my chest, and he returns the gesture.
“All right, then, little bird, can I convince you if it’s an exchange?”
“An exchange?”
“For the help you have given me, you’ll let me buy you some clothes.”
“For the help I’ve given you?” I question, struggling to figure out how I’ve contributed in any remarkable way thus far. “How have I helped?”
He opens his mouth to respond, but then his eyes flick in the direction of the shopkeeper again, apparently debating what to say with an audience so close. I’m reminded of our prior conversation out on the sidewalk.
“You mean with yourhunting?” I suggest quietly, already somewhat enticed by the idea even though he has yet to actually suggest it. “I can help?”
His eyebrows rise, his expression quickly shifting back to his usual smile. “If you’d like.”
“I would,” I say, even as my eyes fall to the floor, half nerves and half anticipation as I ask, “You really think I could?”
Cypress holds my chin between his forefinger and thumb again, bringing me back to him. “Oh, little bird, I can speak from personal experience that you’re a very effective siren’s call.”
“Cy…” I want to believe what he’s saying. Want to believe that someone like him could see something of value in me.
“I will gladly take your help, Cora, if it will make you feel more comfortable accepting it in return,” he says, bending his head close to my ear. “But to becrystalclear, it is not a requirement for me to do this for you. And not only because your side of the exchange was already fulfilled long ago.” His attentiondrifts back to the woman at the counter before I can ask what he means. “Ma’am, would you please assist my lovely bride in picking out whatever it is that she wants? No exceptions.”
Bride?He tucks my hand back into the crook of his arm and walks me closer as I gape up at him.Did he call me his…?
“She lost most of her belongings on our journey, so I think a full new wardrobe is in order.” He leans down and brushes a kiss against my forehead once we come to a stop at the counter, and I am incapable of speech as he then reaches into his pocketbook and drops multiple large bills on the counter as if they really are of no consequence. “I trust you’ll help me make sure she gets everything her heart desires? I don’t wish to receive back a dime. Perhaps you could start with that dress in the window?”
“Oh, of course, sir, that won’t be a problemat all.” The shopkeeper is now practically leaping for me along with a selection of fabrics. “I will see to it personally.”
“Wait.” I try to hold onto Cypress’s arm when I feel myself being tugged away. “This is too much. I can’t—”
“It’s not nearly enough, Cora, I promise you.” The very insistent shopkeeper is now looping her arm through mine on my other side, and he only smiles when I look up at him with something close to panic. “I’ll be at the cafe across the street when you’re done. Try to have some fun.”
Although it takes me a minute to latch on to precisely what that word means, in the end, I decide that pretending to be someone else actually isfun. Whether that identity be Cypress’swifeor simply the woman staring back at me from the long mirror, both feel a lot more fun than the person I’m sure I really am.
Because this woman, this one standing in the boutique in a long and elegant dark green dress, with matching ribbons in her shining hair and a happy smile on her face, surely can’t be me…right?
Where once gaunt and sallow features marked my face, there is now a softness that hadn’t been there before. The rest of my figure, too, has changed to be fuller, stronger, curving in and out from the slope of my neck and chest to my stomach and my hips. I hadn’t noticed with how shapeless my clothing had become but now, standing in a new dress with a bodice that hugs me neatly and nips in at the waist before flaring outward into long full skirts, I look, well, I do look…beautiful, as Cypress said.