Free The Night Gardener by Jonathan Auxier Page A

to teach myself letters, but maybe this’d be a better use.”
    Molly took the sheet from him and read it. “Kip, this …” She looked up at him, her eyes full of something he couldn’t quite understand. “This’ll never do for a letter.” Before Kip could react, she tore the paper in two and tossed it over the edge of the bridge. “I tell you what: meet me at the stables at sundown. I’ll bring us somethin’ hot to eat, and we’ll do it proper.”
    Kip nodded, and Molly seized him in an enormous hug. “Get your chamber-pot hands off me!” he said, squirming.
    Molly kissed him on the cheek and sprinted back to the house. Kip took Galileo’s bit and limped toward the stables, his heart swelling. They were going to talk to Ma and Da. And everything was going to be all right.

undown couldn’t come quickly enough for Kip. He spent the rest of the afternoon pulling weeds in the garden and imagining what he might say to his parents in the letter. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hardly noticed his work, and when he finally stood up, he was surprised to discover that he had completely weeded half the beds. He used Galileo’s cart to haul the weeds to the edge of the property, where they made a pile nearly as tall as himself. The stems were still wick, and so Kip had to bait the fire with a bit of lamp oil. The pile burned wet and smoky in the damp spring air, and the smell reminded Kip of peat fires back home. He imagined his parents somewhere on the other side of the world, making a fire of their own. (He wasn’t certain that ships had fireplaces aboard, but he figured the crew needed some way to keep warm.) Kip stood over the blaze, petting Galileo’s side, watching until the last bit had burned away, leaving only a black patch on the ground.
    When Kip reached the stables, he found them empty. “Molls?” he called.
    “Up here!” sounded a voice from above. He hobbled back outside to find his sister sitting atop the roof, legs dangling over the edge. She waved down at him. “There’s no better place for writing than a rooftop—the fresh air makes your words come out like songs.”
    Kip hopped around to the back wall where the gutter connected to an old rain barrel. He laid down Courage and climbed onto the barrel. With the help of the windowsill, drainpipe, and Molly’s hand, he pulled himself to the eaves.
    “Tell me this isn’t better,” Molly said.
    Kip had to agree. From up here, he felt like king of the forest. He stared out over the glowing treetops and then looked to his sister, lit golden against the red sky. He smiled. She always knew just the right thing to do to make him feel better.
    Molly untied a cloth bag she had brought up with her. “I know you’ve already had supper, but I thought you could do with a snack.” Inside were warm biscuits with butter. She had also snuck a half jug of fresh cream, which was Kip’s favorite.
    “Careful you dinna drown yourself,” she said as he drained the cream in just two breaths. Kip set the jug down and started on the biscuits. “I brought you more than just food—look what I found in the study.” She pulled a polished wooden box from the cloth. “It’s a stationery desk—for writin’ letters,” she said before he could ask.
    Kip wiped the cream and crumbs from his face and opened the lid of the box. Inside he found a stack of ivory paper. He picked up the topmost sheet. It was thicker than normal paper and had a roughsurface. “It feels expensive.” He resisted the urge to put the paper against his cheek.
    “I think it belonged to Master Windsor’s father,” Molly said. “I saw it last week when I was cleanin’ the bureau. Mistress Windsor says nobody hardly goes in there, so I figure they won’t miss it.”
    Kip put the paper down. “You took this without asking?”
    She shrugged. “If the Windsors object, they can dock it from our pay.”
    Kip knew that they were not being paid, and so he took his sister’s words to