Page 24 of Songs and Spun Gold
“You haven’t met my father,” she grumbled under her breath.
Gently taking her other hand, he drew both up to his chest. She kept her eyes lowered, resisting the pleasant feel of his large hands encasing hers by reminding herself of the impropriety.
“And you haven’t met mine,” he murmured. “If someday you do, I sincerely hope you won’t judge me by him.”
“They don’t judge me by him. They simply don’t want to tie themselves to him.”
She could see his downturned lips out of the corner of her eye. “And so no man in your village has made you an offer?”
“No man in my village has even asked me to walk with him, except one. And he only asked once.”
“Why?”
Tilting her head back, she traced the patterns of the stars winking at her from the dark night sky, trying to calm herself with the familiar constellations. She took a deep breath to steady her voice. “That argument I mentioned?” She swallowed. “It was about…him.”
“The man you walked with?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. “Why were you arguing with your friends about him? Do they not think he is worthy of you?”
“No, they think Fritz is great,” she replied, smiling slightly.
“Then you were arguing over him?”
She shook her head. “The argument wasn’t about Fritz.”
“Then who—” He paused, cocking his head as he watched her for a moment. When he glanced down, she realized that her left hand had slipped out of his and was playing with her bracelet again. “Oh. The man you were looking for tonight.”
Katy nodded, still not meeting his eyes.
“What was his name? He might be a member of my acquaintance.”
“I thought you weren’t a noble,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t know any.” He grinned at her, one of his mischievous ones, but she couldn’t see enough of his eyes to tell if they matched.
Pursing her lips, she looked away again. “I can’tremember.”
For a few moments, the low hooting of an owl in one of the nearby trees was the only sound above the muffled city noises. Then Gunther finally echoed, “You can’t remember.” There was a frown in his voice as he took a step back. “If you can’t remember his name, how could he be the reason your Fritz won’t walk with you?”
“If you enjoyed your time in your little village so much, why can’t you remember where it is?” she shot back.
“I—” He cut himself off, the muscles in his jaw twitching. Scowling, he looked away. “I have often asked myself the same question. I have no explanation.”
“Then don’t tell me that I can’t be so intent on finding a man whose nameIcan’t remember that it drives away the few men who might be interested in me!” She jerked her other hand out of his and spun away.
“How long have you been searching for him?” Gunther’s voice was back to a careful curiosity.
Katy crossed her arms over her chest and kept her back to him. “I haven’t. I don’t know where to look.” She glared at the stars. Taking a deep breath, she added, “But it’s been about six years.”
“Six—sixyears?” he spluttered.
Whirling, she retorted, “You wouldn’t wait six years for something you wanted?”
His face softened as she locked eyes with him. “If I could, I would wait forever.” Then his mouth puckered. “But six years. You couldn’t have been more than—”
“Fourteen,” she answered. “I was fourteen the last time I saw him.”
“You formed such a strong attachment so young?” He sounded skeptical.
Finding she couldn’t continue to stare into those intelligenteyes, she looked away. “He was a good friend,” she said defensively. He was a stranger, but he was less judgmental than her family and friends. Maybe that was why the old thought slipped out. “Maybe if he’d at least said goodbye, told me he wasn’t coming back and why, instead of justdisappearing…maybe then it would be easier to forget him.”
