The noise of the yard seemed to drift farther away.
Amelia was suddenly aware of everything. The heat, the smell of leather and dust, the rasp of the water hitting the ground, the damp curl stuck to the side of her neck, Thomas’s hands beneath hers. All morning she had been bold because bold was easier than afraid. Now, with his attention fixed on her and the whole sunlit yard around them, she felt strangely shy.
“That class,” he said quietly.
She blinked. “What?”
“The one where a small woman throws a big man.”
Of all the things.
“Are you laughing at me too?”
“Nay.”
He said it so simply that she believed him.
Amelia lowered the jug. “It was a self-defense class.”
His brow furrowed. “Defense of self?”
“Learning how to get away if someone grabs you. How to use balance, elbows, knees, whatever you have.”
His face changed. Not dramatically. Thomas didn’t do dramatic. But the warmth left his eyes, replaced by something hard and intent.
“Who grabbed you?”
“No one.” When his expression did not ease, she added, “Not like that. It was just a class. Women take them where I’m from.”
“Because men are dangerous there?”
She almost laughed. Almost.
“Men are dangerous everywhere.”
He looked down at his wet hands.
For a moment she thought he might argue. Say the usual things men said, that good men protected women, that danger came from bad men only, as if every woman alive hadn’t learned to take note of the exits in a room before she learned how to make small talk. But Thomas didn’t insult her by pretending the world was gentler than it was.
Instead he took the drying cloth and said, “Then it was a wise class.”
That nearly undid her. She looked away first. “Well, no one here believes it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Her eyes flew back to his.
He dried his hands slowly, still watching her. “I said it was wise.”
Before she could ask him what that meant, Walter called his name again, and the moment snapped like thread pulled too tight.
Thomas’s jaw flexed.
“You are very popular today,” Amelia said.
“I miss when everyone feared speaking to me.”
“No, you don’t.”