Page 4 of Songs and Spun Gold
“Ah, the joys of family at shearing time,” she laughed. Louise shot her a glare but saved her breath for hiking. She wasn’t the only resident of their village hauling wool from a relative’s sheep.
Finally, Katy crested the hill. Stretched out below her was her village, the thatched roofs contrasting with the grey stone of the houses. A few had thin smoke curling from their chimneys, either for cooking or for a little extra heat on this cool April morning.
“Yes!” Louise exclaimed breathlessly as she dropped her hands to lean heavily on her knees. “A break!”
“Enjoy it while you can,” Katy told her. “We’ll be heading back for the next load soon.”
Louise groaned. “Babette lives on the wrong side of town. If you’re spinning her wool again, can I drop this off at your house?”
“Hmm, that would be more efficient. That’s fine; my other customers will bring theirs later, so I’ll have room.” She allowed herself one last deep breath, then started walking down the hill. “Come on, Louise, time to go.”
Another groan was Louise’s only response. Shaking her head, Katy continued on her way without waiting for her friend to follow. She smiled at the sunlight reflecting off the Felsig River ahead of her. Like the village, it was filled with rocks. The bubbling of the water through its obstructions was beautiful, and Katy loved to watch it when she had the time.
By the time she reached the main street of the village, Louise had caught up. There were a few other people about, but most of the few businesses were closed. Shearing was a busy time in Flussendorf.
“Hello, Fritz!” Louise called in a coy voice. Turning, Katysaw a tall, wiry, young man on the other side of the road. He looked over at Louise’s greeting, smiling when he saw them.
“Good morning, Louise,” he replied as he joined them. “Hello, Katy,” he said, smiling at her.
Katy gave him a return smile. “Good morning, Fritz. Where are you off to?”
“My mother asked me to see if the baker is working today. Can I carry that wool for you, Katy?”
His voice was eager, but she shook her head. “It’s sweet of you to offer, but I’ll be fine.”
“You can carry mine, Fritz,” Louise said, batting her eyelashes and leaning closer to him.
“Are you sure?” he asked, still focused on Katy. “It looks heavy.”
“Itis,” Louise assured him, adding a pathetic tone to her voice as she looked up at him hopefully.
Katy smothered a grin. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated. She gestured to her friend. “But I think Louise would appreciate a break.”
“Hmm?” His blue eyes jumped to the other girl. “Oh, right. Can I help you with that, Louise?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said pitifully as she shrugged out of the straps. Fritz grabbed the pack in one hand and slung it over his shoulder. “You’resostrong.”
“Heading to the mill?” he asked, his attention returning to Katy.
“We are,” she replied. Beside her, Louise rolled her shoulders while casting admiring glances at their companion.
The low rumble of the rapids greeted Katy’s ears as she walked down a side street. Up ahead, her family’s mill, a two-story stone building, sat right next to the river, its wooden waterwheel creaking as it turned under the river’s influence. Two tiny windows with glass panes – a relic of her grandparents’days – stood on either side of the wooden front door.
Fritz lengthened his stride so that he reached it first. He opened the door, then stood to the side so Katy and Louise could pass through in front of him.
“It had better not smell.” Katy’s middle sister greeted them with a scowl as they walked into the small customer area. The door fell quietly into place as Fritz pulled it closed behind them.
“Hello to you, too, Adele,” Katy said with a bright smile.
Adele flung her long, dark brown braid over her shoulder and slammed her pen on the wooden counter. “I will not have disgusting, smelly—”
“We wash the sheep first so the yarn won’t smell. We’ve done this for the last five years,” Katy sighed. Beside her, Louise made a face but said nothing. “Honestly, Adele, why do you still act like this? Besides, where I takemywool inmyhome is my business, not yours.”
“It’s notyourwool,” Adele scoffed. Her pretty, brown eyes narrowed. “It’sourwool.”
Pressing a hand to her heart, Katy widened her own brown eyes in mock surprise. “You’re willing to claim it now? Oh, Adele, I’m so proud.”
Her sister crossed her arms. “You know what I mean. Are you going to stand there blocking the door all day?”
