Free Always by Amy Richie

was.”
    “ Come on,” I nudged his shoulder. “Tell me a story.”
    He looked down at me, his eyes so ancient I almost believed he could be 1,000 years old. “Alright,” he sighed.
    “ I remember once,” he chuckled at a memory I couldn’t see, “my brother and I were trying to catch frogs.”
    “ Frogs?”
    “ Yes, frogs.” He grinned widely. “It was a race to see who could catch the most.”
    “ Who won?”
    “ I guess you could say it was a tie.” He looked over at me with laughter lighting his eyes. “Neither of us caught anything.”
    “ Nothing?”
    “ Not a single frog.”
    I laughed out loud. “That’s not a very good story.”
    “ Have you ever tried to catch a frog? It’s not easy.”
    “ My father was the best frog catcher.” I giggled at the silliness of the word. “He caught them for me all the time.”
    “ Big frogs?”
    “ Only the biggest.” I raised my chin in pride.
    “ You weren’t afraid to hold onto them?”
    “ No,” I shook my head.
    “ You were quite a young lady, Miss Sinclair.” He playfully splashed water up at me. “Climbing trees and catching frogs?”
    “ I was very young,” I reminded him with a big smile, “you’re allowed to be whatever you want to be when you’re young.”
    Sadness crept into the edges of his eyes, but he pushed it away quickly. “I suppose so.”
    “ Do you miss your brother? Are the two of you close?”
    “ I do miss him.”
    He let the answer drop at that. “I don’t have any siblings, let alone a twin. I always wanted a sister.”
    He managed to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I had sisters.”
    “ I thought you said you had five brothers.”
    “ I do now, but not when I was growing up.” His voice was as soft as I’d ever heard it, so I didn’t stop him so he could explain what he meant by that. “My parents and two sisters died, and then it was just me and Paris.”
    “ How did they die?” I asked softly.
    “ Fire.” His eyes tightened. I wondered what he saw in his memory. What horrors had he lived through? “Paris joined up with the others first so,” he shrugged, “I did, too.”
    “ The others?”
    “ It seemed like a better idea than wondering alone.”
    “ And now you call them your brothers?”
    “ They are my brothers, Claudia. You don’t have to be blood related to be brothers.” His voice sounded so harsh.
    “ I guess not.”
    “ With the title of brother comes the responsibility of family. I may not always agree with the things they do–but they are still my brothers.”
    Was he saying that for my benefit or his own?
    “ I sometimes don’t agree with all Aunt Dora says, but I still love her,” I offered weakly.
    He seemed to come out of the past then and laughed at my statement. It was a slightly strangled sound, but it was a laugh. “That’s exactly what I mean.” He nudged me playfully. “What was the last thing you and your Aunt Dora disagreed on?”
    He wasn’t really watching me when he asked, so I was sure he didn’t see the unease creep into my expression. I lowered my eyes. The last thing we had disagreed about was the only time I could remember when our minds clashed so obviously. It had been nearly a month ago now–when Edmund Harris proposed to me. I had not wanted to accept him. In fact, even now I wasn’t sure marrying Edmund was the best idea. But what could I do?
    I looked up into a pair of deep blue eyes, radiating nothing but concern. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he spoke gently.

Chapter Eleven
     
    I tucked my hair behind my ears before I could look up at him. “It’s okay,” I said, “I don’t mind.”
    “ You two argued about whether you should marry Edmund Harris or not?”
    “ Yeah,” I responded softly–no longer surprised that he knew exactly what I was thinking without my saying anything.
    “ Was it a bad fight?”
    “ I told her I didn’t love Edmund, but she thinks I will learn to love him.” I fidgeted self-consciously