Briar Valley: The Complete Duet

12. Willow

CHAPTER 12

WILLOW

WE WERE THE SAME - MATT MAESON

Leaving Killian and Zach to flip a coin to decide who has to do all of the washing up, I slide my borrowed pair of shoes back on and grab the woollen coat that Miranda located for me to wear when it’s cold out.

I really need to go clothes shopping soon. We can’t sponge off other people’s generosity forever. The prospect of leaving the safe bubble that encapsulates Briar Valley makes me feel physically ill, but I think it might be time.

“Follow me,” Micah mumbles.

Arianna breezes past me. “Let’s go!”

Sliding her hand straight into his, Micah’s nervous eyes blow wide. He studies her tiny stature like she’s a venomous snake intent on sinking its fangs into him, rather than an excited six-year-old. I doubt he likes being touched so freely.

Outside the cabin, we walk around the back, ducking beneath an apple tree surrounded by an overgrown vegetable patch. I spot several chilli pepper plants blooming in the intense periods of rain and sunshine high on the mountain.

Micah looks over his shoulder. “Zach likes spicy food, and there aren’t exactly many takeaways up here. Killian started a mini chilli farm last year.”

“Good solution.”

“He thought so until Zach started sneaking chillies into all of his food to prank him.”

His voice is rougher than his brother’s smooth tenor and raspy in a smoky, fascinating way. Everything about Micah is understated, from the hunch of his broad, muscular shoulders to the slightly overgrown hair that covers his eyes in a protective shield.

He makes himself small and silent, even though he’s just as well-trimmed as his twin brother. His presence is so intense, he could never slip under the radar. For some reason, I want to know more about him.

“The studio was a gift from Killian on my eighteenth birthday,” he explains, his voice still strained with discomfort. “Think he was sick of me getting paint everywhere inside.”

The simple, barn-like structure is built from rough hews of wood. Warm, yellow light spills through the gridded windows, illuminating the circular stone slabs that act as stepping stones across the grass.

With another deep breath, Micah waves for us to go ahead. Arianna barges inside like she owns the place, leaving me and Micah to follow behind at a slower pace.

“Cool! Mummy, come look!”

“After you,” Micah invites.

“Thanks.”

Squeezing past him, I slip inside the studio and turn around to drink it all in. Rough, unvarnished wooden floors and panelled walls are revealed by candlelight, burning inside old-fashioned style lanterns built into the wood.

It cloaks the studio in a welcoming warmth that makes the lofty, cold space feel more like home. There’s a huge, three metre workbench that takes up most of the room. It’s cluttered with tools and drying masterpieces that are hand-carved to perfection.

“This is crazy,” I whisper in awe.

There are a mixture of clay and wooden sculptures cluttering every surface. Some are dried and ready to be varnished, while others are darker with the tint of wet clay, slowly hardening on drying racks. So many different creatures—wolves, deer, birds, even owls.

Paintings cover almost every wall, haphazardly hammered into place while others are stacked up in the corner to be packaged. I study the closest one, recognising the familiar landscape of Briar Valley depicted in all its lush, undisturbed greenery.

It’s like Micah’s recreating the world from behind the safety and security of these four walls. Each piece is stunningly realistic, a snapshot of reality caught in the permanent stasis of paint and ink. I’ve never seen talent like it.

“You have a real gift. These are beautiful works of art, Micah.”

He fiddles with his stained t-shirt. “No one sees my art. I sell it online and package it up for Zach to run into town.”

“The others haven’t seen this? Seriously?”

“I like my privacy.”

But he let us see , a traitorous voice whispers.

Arianna’s eyeing up a stunning sculpture of a butterfly. Each papery, stained-glass wing has been recreated in so much detail, it’s hard to believe that it isn’t a real butterfly fossilised in fresh clay.

She strokes the tip of her finger over its hand-hewn spine, her mouth hanging open. Her fascination for animals and insects has grown after our move here. There wasn’t much beyond cicadas and locusts in Mexico.

“No touching, Ari.”

“It’s fine,” Micah quickly says.

“I don’t want her to ruin your hard work.”

“It’s so pretty,” she coos. “I like it.”

Wringing his hands together, Micah walks over to her and picks up the small sculpture. He grabs a pen and scribbles something on the bottom of it before kneeling down next to Arianna.

“Keep her safe for me, will you?”

“Really? For me?” Arianna blusters.

“Butterflies don’t belong locked up inside.”

Before he can flinch away from her touch, she squeals and throws her arms around his neck. Micah full-body shudders, becoming as still as the hardened clay that fills his workspace. Arianna squeezes him tight before releasing him.

“Thank you. I will look after her, I promise.”

Watching them both, I can’t help but smile as Micah bravely ruffles her hair. Deciding not to push our luck, I hold out a hand for Arianna to take.

“We should head off. It’s getting late.”

“S-Sure,” Micah stammers.

“Thank you for showing us around.”

“You’re welcome.” He stares down at his shoes. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Come on, Ari.” I take her hand in mine. “Let’s leave Picasso here to his work, hmm? I’m sure Micah’s got lots of stuff to do tonight.”

She gives him a little wave before pulling her hand free from mine and running off, shouting for Killian to come and look at her new toy. I watch her go for a moment, smiling to myself. Her confidence is so good to see.

Micah stops beside me, wearing an unreadable expression. “She’s a cute kid.”

Drawing my coat tighter against the cold air, I sigh. “She’s getting louder with each day we spend here. I think Killian’s charming ways are rubbing off on her.”

Stepping outside to head back to the cabin, I’m halted by my name rolling off Micah’s lips in an almost-audible prayer. He’s staring at me with such unspeakable intensity, it feels like he’s searching for something buried deep beneath my skin.

“Yeah?”

Panicked, he shakes his head. “Nothing.”

The door suddenly slams shut in my face. For several astonished seconds, I stare at the rattled slab of wood, eventually making my feet carry me back up the garden. That went better than it could have gone, I suppose.

Talking to Micah feels a bit like navigating choppy water with nothing but a broken life raft. I get the sense that no matter how hard I battle, there’s no opposing the powerful pull of isolation that keeps him locked in the depths of his own private ocean.

Back inside the cabin, Arianna has retaken her spot on the sofa. She’s smiling to herself and snuggling the butterfly like it’s a teddy bear rather than a solid lump of clay. Her eyes are growing heavy, even as she battles to keep them open.

Zach reappears in the door. “Everything okay?”

“All good. Micah’s studio is amazing.”

“I wouldn’t know. He won’t let me in there.”

Tugging on my elbow, he steers me over to the breakfast bar where Killian awaits with a bottle of liquor and three glasses. The dishes have vanished, and the kitchen is relatively clean, albeit still cluttered. They seem to have called it quits.

“Drink?” Killian rumbles.

I stare at the amber liquid. “No, thanks.”

Whiskey was Mr Sanchez’s drink of choice. The scent holds nothing but bad memories. It clung to his skin and acid tongue as he lashed out at me, inebriated and furious. His fists hit extra hard when he was drunk.

“We should get going.”

“Arianna is almost asleep.” Zach pats an empty bar stool. “Stay, we won’t bite. Well, Killian might, but I promise I’ll put him down if he does. I know a good vet.”

“Screw you,” Killian snarls at him.

“Behave, mutt. We have a guest.”

“Call me a fucking mutt again and see what happens.”

Cursing under his breath, Killian pours two measures of whiskey and knocks his glassful back. I reluctantly take a seat. The way they watch me out of the corner of their eyes is unnerving.

Something sits in the air between us, the weight of everything left unsaid. I feel it with everyone in the town. Their gazes are questioning and curious, but they’re too polite to pry into our business.

“Are you staying in Briar Valley?” Killian asks bluntly, forgoing the niceties.

“I… don’t know,” I answer. “We don’t have a whole lot of options. My plan was to make it here. That’s about it so far.”

“What else do you want?” he urges.

“Well, I want Arianna to have a home.”

“You know Lola loves having you stay with her.” Zach nurses his own drink. “But if you wanted your own space, there are plenty of cabins going spare.”

“There are?”

“Sure, we’ve got a couple. We’re moving a new family in at the weekend. Refugees from overseas. Two young kids as well.”

“A home for lost things, huh?” I say with a laugh.

Killian scoffs. “Like I said, Lola’s a bit of a collector. That woman would’ve made a damn good politician in another life.”

“She’s determined to fix the whole world,” Zach agrees.

Sadness invades me. What might my life have looked like if she’d been in it? Or if I’d gotten over myself after my dad’s death and ran into her arms? Things could have turned out very differently. I think I’ll always regret that.

“Where’d you go?” Zach waves a hand in front of me.

“Sorry. This place is a dream come true and a slap in the face all at once.”

Killian meets my eyes. “What do you mean?”

I’m too tired to bite my tongue. “I wish Arianna could’ve grown up here instead. She was the best thing that ever happened to me, but sometimes I wonder what world I brought her into.”

“We’re never given more than we can handle.” Killian rubs a hand over his blonde beard. “At least, that’s what my folks used to say. Like with Micah. They knew how to handle him. I’m doing a shitty job in comparison.”

“That’s not true,” Zach interjects.

“Yeah, it is.”

“You picked up the pieces, Kill. You stuck around. That means something to me, and it does to Micah too. You need to get that through your thick skull.”

Feeling like I’m intruding on their private moment, I look back over to Arianna. She’s now fast asleep with her thumb tucked into her mouth. I realise that both men are also looking in the same direction, smiling at the sight of my baby sleeping on their sofa.

“You need to stay here,” Killian decides.

“What?” I stare at him.

“Let us keep you safe. We ain’t worth much out there in the real world, but we can throw a mean punch. Whatever’s chasing you won’t find you here. We won’t allow it.”

Zach hums in agreement. “I have a decent swing.”

The most exquisite sense of warmth spreads through my veins, melting the ice that froze around my heart so long ago. I feel like I’m stepping off a merry-go-round and breathing for the first time in years. It’s dizzying and reassuring at the same time.

More than anything, I want Arianna to live freely. She can run, play, laugh and relax here. There’s no threat of violence hanging over us. I don’t need to sleep with one eye open, using my body as a bruised and beaten shield to keep her safe from harm.

“What do you say?” Zach stares at me.

“We could stay put.”

Killian perks up, his head tilted. “Is that a yes?”

“Maybe.”

“Not good enough. The word you’re looking for is yes .”

Snickering, I meet his expectant gaze. “You’re a pain in the ass, aren’t you?”

“You’re just figuring that out about me?” he counters.

Shaking my head at his bullshit, I look back at Arianna again. Seeing her asleep and safe, nestled amongst tangled blankets with that bloody sculpture, seals my decision. I can’t take this away from her, and I don’t want to.

“That’s a yes,” I submit.

Thumping his glass of liquor down, Zach suddenly pulls me into a hard, fast hug. I let myself melt in his wiry arms, my eyes connecting with Killian’s over his shoulder. Even the grumpy lumberjack is wearing a relieved smile.

“You’re officially one of us,” Zach announces, deepening his voice to a playful growl. “One of us. One of us.”

“Alright, get off me.”

Killian snags his cousin’s t-shirt and yanks him backwards, freeing me. Zach picks up the empty glass and fills it with a small measure of whiskey. I reluctantly accept and knock it back this time, needing some liquid courage.

Fire burns a path down my throat, and the warmth seeping into my bones is comforting in a strange way. Even if it tastes like death. I’d prefer to replace the bad memories I have of this drink with this pure, untainted moment.

“I was wondering if one of you could take me into the nearest town to get some stuff.” I place the glass down and hug myself tight. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I’m going on a delivery run for Micah next week,” Zach suggests. “You sure you’re ready to venture out?”

“I’ve got to some time.”

“Cool. We can make a day of it.”

Clinging to the tiniest scrap of courage, I make myself nod. Being cooped up here for another week won’t make it any easier to leave. If we’re staying in Briar Valley, I need to get myself together and start settling in. Our lives here still feel temporary right now.

“I’ll come too,” Killian adds.

Zach shoots him a perplexed look. “You will?”

“What?” He glares back at him. “Your scrawny little ass won’t do shit if you run into trouble. I’ll bring my rifle along and knock any creepers out.”

“Creepers?” I exclaim.

“He means men,” Zach clarifies with a short laugh. “You belong to the valley now. We protect what’s ours. Better get used to this possessive fucker following you around with his gun from now on.”

Killian looks thrilled at the prospect, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. “It’s been a while since I had a good hunt.”

“There are no men in my life to hunt down,” I splutter.

He eyes me. “Yet. Give it time.”