The Thorn and the Blossom: A Two-Sided Love Story by Theodora Goss Page A

she pulled it back with a rubber band, her face glittering with water droplets where the spray had come up over the side of the boat.
    That week, they went on long, rambling walks, stopping at some of the local farms. She even helped him with the cataloging. He gave her a copy of
The Tale of the Green Knight
, the Tregillis translation, warning her that it wasn’t very good, thinking about his thesis. He would propose it as soon as school started in the fall. He was sure it would be accepted: a new translation of an obscure medieval text was exactly the sort of thing that D.Phil. advisors appreciated.
    Which reminded him that he should tell Evelyn aboutOxford. At first, he hadn’t told her because he was amused—and, truthfully, a little hurt—that she would assume he was just a poor boy from Clews. Although, that was what he’d told her, wasn’t it? But as the days passed, he wondered if she would be angry that he hadn’t told her right away.
    Well, he would tell her today, during their trip to Pengarth.
    In the morning, they caught the bus. As it rattled along the coast road, he looked over at her, at the line of her cheek and chin as she looked out the window.
I don’t want this week to end
, he thought. It was her last day in Clews. Tomorrow, she would be gone.
    Suddenly, she turned toward him and said, “You haven’t mentioned your family.”
    So he told her about losing his mother, growing up with his father. “He was the one who told me about Gawan fighting the giants. You know, you’d make a good Elowen in a painting. I mean, with your hair down and all.”
    “Why, because I’m so queenly?” She grinned and then started to eat a Cadbury bar she’d been carrying in her bag. “You know my favorite thing about England? The chocolate.”
    “That’s your favorite thing, is it?”
    “Yup. Absolute favorite.” She grinned even more broadly, then suddenly she leaned against him and said, “Don’t be silly. You know I like you, too.” It was silly, but suddenly his heart was beating faster. Even when she leaned away again to look out the window as Pengarth came into view, he imagined that he could feel her hair tickling his chin.
    They spent the morning at the keep, first taking a tour and then climbing over the parts that lay in ruins. Lunch was at the hotel. He suggested the historical museum, but Evelyn said, “Youknow what I’d really like to do? See the forest you were describing, where you played when you were a kid.”
    “It’s just a forest,” he said. “We could walk back through it to Clews. There’s a path I used to take when I was a child. It’s easy enough, although there are roots in places. But are you sure, Evelyn? It’s a matter of seven miles.” She didn’t look as though she was used to walking that far.
    “I’ll be fine,” she said. And so they started out, walking through the forest.
    He hadn’t been there for a long time. What struck him, when they entered that leafy greenness, was how quickly the noises of Pengarth faded away. Within a few minutes, they could no longer hear cars. The forest was … not silent, certainly. There were twigs snapping, noises up in the treetops, no doubt from birds or squirrels. The low hum of insects. And of course the sounds of their own feet crunching last year’s leaves.
    The walk was longer than he remembered. She was wearing a cardigan, the same gray one she’d been wearing the day she walked into the bookstore, but eventually he noticed that she was wrapping her arms around herself and shivering.
    “Here, take my jacket,” he said. It was large on her, of course. But seeing her wearing it made him feel protective, as though he could keep her warm—and safe, although he didn’t know from what. There was nothing to harm her in the forest.
    Suddenly, he thought that if he didn’t do it now—tell her what was on his mind—he might not do it at all. This was the moment.
Evelyn, I like you a lot
—
Evelyn, I think I’m