Was Father Brennan being smart about the storm clouds?  Or was he trying to comfort her?  In either case, it was a very good thing his hand settled over hers, or else she might have hit him.  Playfully...

"No, nothing compares to green of course, but some do come close.  Yellow, for instance.  And pink, and orange, and blue-green.  I like all colors, really, but green is definitely the best."

With her arm around Father Brennan and one of his on her shoulder, Mable felt more than safe closing her eyes as she walked and allowing herself to be guided.  Maybe if she didn't watch it coming, the hotel would stay down the block for longer.  Maybe Father Brennan would miss it all together and they'd walk all the way around Whitby.

It wasn't likely, she knew.  More than that, the sooner they both got back to their rooms, the sooner they could get changed and warm and sleep, and then it would be morning.

And it was very likely she'd be able to see Father Brennan in the morning, and even make other friends in town too.

"The sun is yellow, you know, but sometimes it looks orange and pink too.  At sun rise and sun set, if the clouds are just right.  Don't you love it when the sky is like that, Father?  When it's purple and blue but the clouds are red like fire?  I've always thought those are the prettiest sunsets.  My brother prefers the sun rise.  Which do you prefer?"

Ah, she liked a lot of bright colors, then. That made sense; she was a very bright girl.

The only colorful part of Malachi was, he suspected, his imagination. He was not sure if he had ever even worn any colors besides black and white. It would feel silly.

…Sillier than everything else he was agreeing to do with Mable and her brother? No. Playing fairies and making pictures out of pebbles and shells still ranked higher in that regard, but at least those things served a purpose.

Malachi slowed his steps as they neared the hotel.

“It is very pretty,” and had she been anyone else, he might have mentioned something about how merciful God was for granting them such beautiful endings and beginnings.

“I like both. Sunrises because they mark the time when everybody else wakes up, and sunsets because the world goes quiet, and still, and everyone else falls asleep.”

As much as he prolonged their journey, they still arrived at the hotel doors sooner than he had hoped.

“Well, I don’t see your brother out here. Maybe we made it back before he did.”

The world going quiet and still and sleepy.  Yes, that was part of what made sunsets so wonderful, wasn't it?  Even when the world went dark, it didn't really.  The moon kept watch, and if not the moon, the stars.  If not the stars, then fireflies.  If it was too cold for fireflies, then Mable and her brother made a small fire to keep them warm.

When it was night, it was quiet and beautiful, but not dark.  Not if you did it right.

Mable's eyes opened as she and Father Brennan slowed to a stop, and she was greeted by the sight of the hotel they had left a while before.  The man's words made her smile - if her brother got back before her, they would know much sooner than walking down the street.

"He would have torn down the entire east half of Whitby before finding us in the river and calming down if he got here before us.  A very good thing for everyone that you're so punctual, Father."

She did not want to step away and out of his warmth just yet.  Would he walk her inside?  Maybe she should offer him some - tea?  But Mable didn't have any, and didn't want to ask hotel staff.

Instead, Mable leaned her head against Father Brennan's side, the hat she wore growing askew from the movement.  Unconsciously, she squeezed his side tighter before moving her other hand from under his and hugging him properly.  She wanted to say something too, a thank you or see you in the morning, but could not find the words.

Purposeful this time, she squeezed the Father again, hoping that would be enough.

His punctuality was a good thing indeed, apparently. Malachi felt his eyes widen slightly at that, brows raised just as subtly in surprise. He had assumed that Edmund would worry if he returned to the room and found his sister missing, but God, he was glad not to have stressed the poor boy out that much.

Where was her brother at this hour? As much as he hoped that Edmund had just found a late-night job, he worried himself about what a job like that might entail.

“I do my best,” was his response once he had shaken those thoughts.

Malachi started to lift his arm, started to move away, just to feel Mable’s other arm slip around him before he could.

“Oh,” he hoped she was not nervous to go back into the room on her own. Did it scare her to be in there on her own for so long?

He adjusted the arm already rested on her shoulders, and grabbed his hat before it could fall right off her head. In a swift motion, Malachi placed it back on his own and then wrapped his other arm around her to return the hug.

“Goodnight, dear,” Malachi held her tighter, as if he could transfer all of his warmth to her. He loosened his hold before long, not wanting to actually squeeze her, but decided not to drop his arms until she did.

“I’ll be at the church all day tomorrow if you want to see me. If not, I’ll come by next time I have a chance, alright?”

There went Father Brennan again, calling her dear, like she really was dear to him.  Mable pushed her face into the man's chest like it would make her smile any less real.  Like it would make everything about the night less indulgent.

She stayed like that for a few long seconds before dropping her arms and taking a step away.  Mable looked up and smiled again at Father Brennan and his amusing hat.  Had she looked like that wearing it?  She hoped not.

"I'll surely stop by with my brother," she said.  "Thank you for the walk, Father.  I had a very nice time!  I'm very grateful to you."

Mable might have died of boredom in the hotel room.  She still might if her brother made a habit of getting back so late.  For the first time, Mable wondered if he was alright, and then cast the thought away.  She refused to worry about it so soon; if he wasn't back by morning, then she would worry.

"I look forward to seeing you again soon.  Be safe on the rest of your walk!  Have a good night!"

Only once Mable had released him did Malachi do the same, letting his arms fall back to his sides. The night breeze had succeeded in stealing whatever warmth from him that she hadn’t taken, but his vestments were still heavy and damp.

At least it was unlikely that Mrs. Higgins or Father Richards would be awake when he returned. If he could just slip back into his room without their notice, he could let his clothes dry, and by morning, they would never have to know at all.

He was not sure what compelled him to keep such things from them, but he did.

Malachi dipped his head, easily mirroring Mable’s smile.

“Thank you for joining me,” he returned, taking a step back and away from the hotel doors.

“Peace be with you, Mable.”

With that, he gave a little wave, and turned to head back towards the church.

Mable happily returned Father Brennan's wave and made her way back inside the hotel only after he turned and left.  Quietly, she made her way through the hallway to the room designated to her and her brother.  The door had remained unlocked, and she was able to easily slip inside.

Against the wall adjacent to the door, the cloth napkin and pebbles remain where they had been tossed before.  Toeing off her boots, Mable made her way to clean them up before she'd take a proper bath and warm up, but paused.  She tilted her head this way and that before smiling.

Ah.  There was the cat, sleeping soundly that Father Brennan had seen.

The girl picked up the napkin carefully so as not to disturb her pebbles and placed it delicately on the table.  She would name the cat Bren, she decided.