Bart threw himself down on his back beside me, his arms flung out on either side, his mouth open as he caught his breath.

We sat panting in silence for several minutes, until gradually my breathing slowed. I glanced down at Bart still lying flat out on the ground. His eyes were closed and his grass-streaked shirt still rose and fell like a bellows.

“Potatoes,” I repeated. And then I pushed myself up and sat on my heels beside him. The rhythm of his chest was slowing, and I leaned over and tweaked his ear as I began to rise.

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pulling me so off balance, I fell forward across his chest, and then he put both arms around me and kissed me. His lips were full and warm, and without thinking, I kissed him back. Once. Then twice. And then a pattern of kisses upon those lips, the quick beat of his heart against my chest.

After a time, I rested my head against his shoulder, unwilling to open my eyes, wanting to continue there in the land of lips and beard and cheek and hand.

“I love you, Maisie Thomas.”

I opened my eyes and pushed myself back again on my heels, and he smiled such a smile then, I caught my breath. “You cannot love me, Bart.”

“Cannot? But I can. I do.”

“You must not, then.” And I looked away.

“Ah. Must not. Well, I am stepped beyond the rigors of such a law that says must, must not. Maisie Thomas, you are in my blood; it’s you curled inside my heart’s room, your little fist that pumps against my chest, keeping me alive.”

I stood up, but I could not speak; I could not even think what to say. I had fallen to the ground a girl and risen now as I knew not what. I could think only of flight, and so thinking, I turned and walked back through the thicket of pines, seeking the stone wall’s snaking line. I was lost, though the road homeward lay directly in my path.

When Bart caught up with me, he did not speak, but walked beside me until we reached the place where he had dropped his stick. I waited as he leaned over to pick it up, then continued beside him as we walked, still silent, down the remainder of the Middle Haven road.

There is little I can say about what happened, save I would not wipe those kisses from my mouth. Yet, I did not know what to think, and as we walked back to the House, I grew suddenly afraid. What must happen now? I did not know how I could keep such a secret secret. And it must be secret, for I had already halfway raised my sails and set out toward another future with a partial promise in my hands.