Hills of Heather and Bone by K.E. Andrews

Hills of Heather and Bone by K.E. Andrews

Author:K.E. Andrews [Andrews, K.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sonder and Morii publishing
Published: 2023-05-19T16:00:00+00:00


Saoirse and Coinín play with the cat by the fire, the little girl coaxing it to stand on its back legs while her dark-haired brother giggles. Three dogs lounge around them. I lean against Percy as my eyelids droop, full of good food and fifteen years' worth of stories. My jaws ache from crying, smiling, and laughing. My fears of being viewed as a stranger or the resentment I thought my siblings held toward me were assuaged over the last few hours. Their embraces brought out apologies for years of guilt, and their forgiveness felt warmer than any fire.

After Da died, it was a long time before joy sat at the table again. Ma withered, held together by her shawl and the walking stick Da used in the fields. Now, she’s still thin, but there’s a strength in her that’s as strong as yew. I like to believe that the wrinkles creasing her skin are from laughter rather than sorrow. Loud conversations and stories press against the walls, and I wonder if the house can hold it all.

Leith, my youngest brother, slams his cup down as he tries not to choke on his drink after laughing too hard. Ross claps him on the back, beard parting as he smiles. They’re only a year apart, but they look like twins—Leith’s hair is more blond than red. My younger sister, Glenna bounces her baby, Craig, on her knee and brushes back his brown hair while Tréasa, Ross’ wife, wiggles her fingers at him. The baby coos and reaches for one of her golden tresses.

“C’mon, Leith. You’re a flamekindler and breathe in smoke all day. Little whisky heat shouldnae be nothin’ to you,” Ross says.

“You made me laugh while I was drinkin’,” Leith coughs, face red. “Gods.”

“You look good with short hair,” Glenna says and touches my short locks. “Ma said you always had long, pretty hair.”

“It was time to cut it,” I tell her.

I left when she was almost eight, so all she probably remembers about me is what Ma or my brothers told her. I still don’t know what to say to her since we’ve spent more time apart than we did as sisters, but she’s been asking questions since I arrived, which has helped to bridge the awkwardness.

Ma looks around at the empty plates and bowls, ready to refill them. “Morana, you look ready to fall over,” she tells me.

I sit up and fight back a yawn. “I’m fine.”

“We should get sleep. We’ve had a long day,” Percy says, squeezing my hand.

“Come. You can have my room,” Ma says as she stands.

“Ma, no. That’s too much,” I tell her, shaking my head.

She puts a hand up. “I willnae hear it. There’s room with the bairns—who should be gettin’ to bed now.” Her gaze goes to Saoirse and Coinín, and my niece and nephew quiet.

Saoirse and Coinín look up with dejected faces. “Why? I’m not tired,” Saoirse protests as she yawns.

Ross stands and scoops Saoirse up before hoisting a giggling Coinín under his arm.



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