Page 35 of Songs and Spun Gold
Thinking of him brought to mind the dream that had disturbed her sleep that morning. She had been meandering through a stand of trees when she’d caught a voice on the breeze. Following the smooth baritone, she’d found a thick hedge, carefully pulled a few branches to the side, and peered through.
A small group of people was gathered there, some clearly guests, others that appeared to be musicians or other entertainment. But the singer had stood apart, his eyes alight and his arms gesturing as he brought the words to life.
She sighed. His face had been indistinct, as her dreams, like her memories, ofhimalways were. But now her dreams were blending Gunther into them: the voice had been his.
Because mixing her memories of the boy that she couldn’t forget with the man who couldn’t forget her was just what she needed.
It would be easy to convince herself that they were one and the same. To have found him again, even if they had no future, would be better than this constant wondering. But her friend was a noble, and Gunther wasn’t. It was the one piece of his identity that she had.
Forcing her focus back to the task at hand, she checked that she hadn’t allowed any lumps to slip past while distracted.She needed this yarn to earn every penny possible, so it had to be as perfect as she could make it. She didn’t have time for letting her thoughts wander.
When evening came, Adele came upstairs and began preparing the stew for supper. Katy kept spinning, only partially aware of the decreasing light as the sun disappeared from the window in Katy’s and her sisters’ bedroom. As usual, she’d tied back the curtain over their doorway to allow the light into the main room so she didn’t have to waste candles.
“Aren’t you cold, Katy?” Adele asked as she built up the fire. “I would have thought you’d have this burning hotter for Mother if not for light for yourself.”
“Didn’t notice,” Katy answered absently as she watched the bobbin gather up the yarn as it came out. “It was stronger earlier; must have died down.”
She could hear the eye roll as her sister clattered about with the pot, hung it over the fire to begin heating the water, and chopped vegetables on the table. The rhythmic thunk of the knife against the wood melded with the pulse of her foot and the gentle hum of the wheel. After a while, Liesl skipped through the doorway, flinging the curtain to the side as she did, but Katy barely registered her presence.
Normally, she would have spared more attention for her surroundings, but tonight, Katy was intent on her work. It had to be perfect. Seeking a job in the capital would be foolhardy. Hoping for a husband to bail her family out would be mercenary and irresponsible. Expecting to find enough flax or wool to keep her spinning until spring was unrealistic. Letting her family go hungry or her mother to suffer lack of treatment was unacceptable.
So she spun. And spun. And spun.
“Katy, dinner’s ready, aren’t you coming?” Liesl asked, shoving her face in front of Katy’s.
Startling back, Katy dropped out of her intense concentration as abruptly as running into a tree she’d failed to dodge. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed, making a grab for the end of the flax as she jerked her foot off the pedal. It broke anyway, but that could be mended when she returned. “Couldn’t you have been a little more subtle, Liese?” she complained.
“I tried that,” her youngest sister replied as she flitted away to the table. “It didn’t work.”
The three girls were soon settled around the table with their steaming bowls in front of them. Mother had hers in her rocking chair; she was strong enough to be out of bed, but it had been a long time since she’d been strong enough to sit without support more often than once every month or two. The bowl sat on her lap, but she was successfully raising spoonfuls of the stew to her mouth.
“How are the sheep, Liese?” Katy asked, blowing carefully on the spoonful of hot stew. The wisps of steam curled away under the influence of her breath.
“What kind of question is that? They’re sheep,” Adele scoffed. Rather than blowing on her stew, she simply stirred it, staring into the swirling liquid.
Liesl glared at their middle sister. “Theyaresheep, and they are adorable,” she snapped. “And their woolly coats are growing nice and thick to keep out the colder air, so they are soft and cuddly and should provide Katy with plenty of material to keep her spinning next year.”
“It’s the only good thing about them,” Adele muttered.
Katy smiled at Liesl before frowning at Adele. It wouldn’t hurt her to have a better attitude about their main source of income.
Even if it was also responsible for their current financial straits.
If Father hadn’t taken the loan to purchase the sheep andthe spinning wheel, they would be fully reliant on the mill. But they wouldn’t have payments to make on the loan, so leaner times wouldn’t be as worrisome. It might also be possible for Katy to look for work elsewhere to supplement the family’s income. As it was, all three of them were necessary – even if Adele felt she wasn’t – because Liesl kept the sheep, Katy spun, and Adele helped the customers of the mill and did most of the caring for Mother and keeping the house.
Life had been simpler before the tragedy that led to Reineggburg’s abandonment; the monthly flour order for the castle had helped keep them afloat.
They were almost finished when a knock at the front door floated up to them. Adele flushed slightly when Liesl grinned at her. “You’d better go answer that, Addy. It’s probably Klaus.”
“Hush, Liesl,” Adele said as she nervously patted her dark hair, smoothing down the bits that had escaped her braid. Stepping over the bench, she said, “I’ll go see who it is.”
Katy and Liesl exchanged amused smiles across the table as their sister hurried down the stairs. Since she had only just turned eighteen, Klaus had only asked her to walk a couple of times, but Adele had quickly developed a strong crush.
Downstairs, the front door creaked open, and the sound of Adele’s voice and the lower one of her companion reached them as mere murmurs. A few short minutes later, her footsteps returned up the stairs, but they were slower than Katy expected. Before, she would rush up to grab her cloak and breathlessly ask permission to walk before dashing back down.
“So, how is he?” Liesl teased when the footsteps reached the last stair. Katy turned to watch Adele come in past the curtain, a disappointed expression on her face.
“It wasn’t him,” Adele replied, pouting slightly. But then a sly smile stretched across her face as her eyes slid sideways to Katy. “It was Fritz. He hoped my older sister might be free thisevening.”
