CHAPTER 9
Katy
S etting the bowl on the floor, Katy pulled the old wooden chair closer to her parents’ bed. Her mother’s eyes drifted open briefly before falling closed again.
“It’s time for your lunch, Mother,” Katy said soothingly. She reached over and attempted to help her mother sit up, but Mother was barely alert. “Come on, Mother. You have to eat.”
After a bit more badgering, she finally roused Mother enough to prop her up with the other pillow and a rolled-up blanket. Bending down, she carefully scooped up the bowl and stirred the soup. It was thinner than it used to be; even the fine quality of Katy’s yarn couldn’t overcome the current drop in price.
“Shouldn’t you be…mending?” Mother asked, looking at Katy through half-open eyes. “You shouldn’t be…wasting your time…with me.”
“It’s no waste, Mother,” she gently chided. Filling a spoonful, she held it up next to her mother’s mouth. “Adele is watching the counter, Liesl is with the sheep, and Father is milling.” The rattles and squeaks of the milling apparatus in the background validated her words. “I have no wool to spin, so there is no reason for someone else to be taking care of you.”
Mother accepted the mouthful, chewed a little – so slowly – and swallowed. “Is…everything all right, Katy?”
She jumped, trying to smooth out the worried crease that had been growing in her forehead. “What do you mean?”
Mother tried to give her a knowing look, but the effect was diminished by the deep shadows under her eyes and her inability to raise her eyelids all the way. She lifted one hand a few inches off the bed, vaguely pointing up. “I know…that wrinkle. Something…is bothering you.”
“It’s nothing,” she replied. “You just focus on eating your lunch, and then I’ll fetch your medicine.”
“Worthless stuff,” Mother muttered before accepting another spoonful of soup. “But you didn’t…answer my question.”
That had been intentional. Mother was too weak to worry about their money troubles. “It’s nothing,” she insisted. Grasping for something less serious, she said, “I was thinking about Fritz.”
“Fritz? Has he…come by again?” The hint of hopefulness in Mother’s voice almost made Katy wince at her choice in topic.
“No, he hasn’t.” Mother’s face fell as she took the next spoonful Katy gave her. “But after the first time he asked, Angelika told me he’d been waiting for over two years, so…it’s a fool’s hope, but I was wondering if perhaps he’ll still ask a second time, even though it’s been a couple of months.”
She was…but at the same time, she half hoped he’d given up. It wasn’t fair for him to be second-best, and she might never be free of the whispers in her memory.
If that wasn’t enough, she now had full-bodied memories of a laughing actor who claimed that he would never forget her, even as he told her to forget him.
As if she could, after a statement like that.
“He’s…a nice young man,” her mother sighed. “I hope he does. You…deserve a…good man, Katy.”
“Thanks, Mother,” she said with a smile.
After she’d finished feeding Mother and given her the daily dose of medicine, Katy cleaned up the lunch dishes before heading downstairs to look over the books. Adele was in the far corner of the front room, running an old broom over the wooden planks.
“How is Mother?” her middle sister asked without looking up from her task.
Katy crossed to the tall table and reached under it to pull the logbook from the shelf underneath . Flipping through it, she replied, “About the same as this morning.”
Other than the inner workings of the mill, which were muffled by the wall and the blanket, the light swishing of the broom and the rustle of the pages as Katy turned them were the only sounds for a few minutes. When Adele spoke again, it was with a note of concern. “I haven’t had anyone come in today. Father’s milling some of the wheat so it will be ready, but we don’t have any unfulfilled orders, either.”
With the current price of yarn being low and the current price of wheat being high, that news was not what Katy wanted to hear. She could feel the crease in her forehead deepening again. “I assume you’ve already entered all the sales in the logbook?”
She could see Adele nodding in her peripheral vision. In the past, such a question would have roused her sister’s ire. Today, she was subdued. “I have. Katy, is it going to be enough?”
The numbers were not encouraging. She scowled a little at the afternoon sun lighting the small room. Not that poor weather would have improved their situation, but she was irrationally irritated with such a bright day when the picture in front of her was anything but.
Maybe she should venture outside later, she thought glumly as she propped her head up on one hand. If the weak warmth of the rays didn’t cheer her up, the roar of the rapids would.
“It will have to be,” she finally answered. “We’ve already made the winter payment on the loans from the crown, so for a few months, we only have to worry about food, Mother’s medicine, and the doctor bills.” Not that either of the latter two items was cheap. “The next payment will be due before shearing time, but we’ll set aside a little each month. As long as flour sales don’t get worse, we should squeak by.” Barely.
“But what if they do?” Adele worried. She gripped the broom tightly, the small pile of dust forgotten. “What if we can’t afford food? Or pay the doctor for Mother? What will we do?”
Why was it up to Katy?
Because her mother was an invalid and her father was unreliable.
Scrubbing her face in thought, she straightened up and paced a few steps behind the table. “I know a few families that still have wool. I’ll try to talk them into letting me spin it. And there might be some flax around that I can spin, too.”
“Will that be enough?”
“I don’t know, Adele,” Katy sighed. “It depends on how much I can get and what the price of yarn does. But it will have to be; I don’t know what other options we have.”
Adele shot her a weak smile. “You could get married. From the sounds of it, the young man you met in the capital could help us.”
“He’d never marry me,” Katy said, making a face at her sister. “Not once he learned about—” She jerked her head in the direction of the back, not wanting her father to overhear if he was near the doorway. “Just like the last one.”
“Even Fritz, though,” Adele tried. “He’s not rich, but surely he earns enough that he could help us out.”
Katy was already shaking her head. “Even if he comes around again, it would take too long. And I couldn’t ask him to do that.” She stared unseeing at the road past the windows. “I suppose I could make payments directly to the crown instead of putting money in range of Father’s pocket, but it’s our problem. It wouldn’t be right to marry a man and expect him to fix it for us.”
“Maybe I should get married,” Adele sighed, her head drooping as she began to slowly sweep again. “I’ll be eighteen in a couple weeks. I don’t do much, and it would be one less mouth to feed.”
“Oh, Adele,” Katy said sadly. Walking over to her sister, she pulled her into a hug, something Adele rarely allowed. But today, she leaned into Katy, folding one arm up to wrap it over hers. “If it’s what you want, I hope someone asks you to walk the day after your birthday, but don’t feel like you have to leave us. We’ll figure it out.”
It wasn’t wishful thinking; it was pure practicality. Katy would figure something out, because there was no other option.
She couldn’t let her family starve.
~
A few weeks later, Katy was sitting in a corner of their main room, working her magic on a bundle of flax. It was one of several she had coaxed out of her neighbors. Mother was settled in the rocking chair in front of the fire as she always was when strong enough to leave her bed. As Katy pumped the pedal and the wheel spun, her mind likewise spun, trying to sort out her problems.
The yarn she was spinning would earn some more money. She thought there was enough to make it through to spring, but only if she could limit the money her father could access for his trips to the tavern. Even then, if her mother had a bad spell, it could wipe out their savings and leave them in rough shape.
Thinking of Adele’s half-joking suggestion that she marry Gunther, Katy’s mind wandered to the capital. Marrying Gunther was not a solution, but could she find a job and send money home? Would that help?
She shook her head. She didn’t know what such jobs might pay, but she feared there would be little left after paying her living expenses. Besides, she might be expected to stay on year-round, which would mean she could not spin next year.
But it would put her in the capital, which would mean she might run into Gunther again. Katy couldn’t deny that the thought of seeing him again lifted her heart out of its despondency.
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, of him always 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. “They are sheep, 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 and the 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 this evening.”
Katy felt her jaw drop, her spoonful of stew suspended halfway to her mouth. “Fritz? Fritz is back?”
“By all appearances as sweet and patient as ever, but if I were you, I don’t think I’d test the patient part too much,” Adele flippantly replied. “Even the most patient man will only wait so long.”
“Yes, of course.” Katy stuffed the final spoonful into her mouth as she scrambled out of her seat. She strode quickly to the wall, pulling her cloak off its nail. Swallowing, she called out, “I’ll be back later!” as she flung aside the curtain and trotted down the stairs.
He was standing by the front wall, staring out one of the windows at the dark street, when she pushed the curtain aside and walked into the room. Adele had left a candle burning on the table, its flickering light casting an orange glow on Katy’s visitor.
“Good evening, Fritz,” she said softly. At the sound of her voice, he turned, his lips stretching into a smile. His boots reflected the candlelight, and the parts of his long-sleeved, white tunic that were visible underneath his blue cloak were once again spotless. Painfully aware of the stains on her own brown dress, she wondered briefly if she should have spared the time to improve her appearance.
If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. “Hello, Katy. Would you be willing to walk with me this evening?” he asked. His nerves were in their normal state tonight; his previous success must have given him confidence.
“It’s been a while,” she replied hesitantly. She didn’t want to chase him off, but she was desperately curious to know why he’d finally come again. She hadn’t heard any gossip about him asking anyone else, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t. Was Fritz settling, too ?
His smile faltered. “I know.” Ducking his head, he continued, “I—I heard about what happened in the market. With Babette and Angelika. And I thought—I thought maybe you needed a little more time. So I backed off. I’m sorry if I made you think I’d changed my mind.”
“Oh, Fritz.” She pulled her cloak off her arm and arranged it around her shoulders as she walked over to him. “You really are too good, aren’t you?”
“Should I not have come back?” he asked uncertainly. His eyebrows knit together as he watched her approach.
Shaking her head, Katy replied, “No, I’m glad you did. But you could have come back sooner, you know.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should come tonight,” he admitted, looking back out the window. He ran a pale hand over his brown hair. “Angelika told me about your theater friend.”
“Angelika talks too much.” Katy busied herself with tying her cloak to hide her wince. “Yes, Gunther and I enjoyed a stroll through the city together, but he can’t make the trip here, and I can’t make the trip to the capital. It was a fascinating opportunity, but I never expected anything from him.” She mustered a decently-normal smile as she looked back up at Fritz. “So you see, there’s nothing for me to get over and no reason for you to stay away longer.”
Fritz turned to face her, examining her with his blue eyes. Knowing how terrible she was at hiding things, Katy focused on how sweet Fritz was and poured all of her appreciation for him into her expression. If he would only give her the chance, she was sure that she could make it reality. In time.
Promise you won’t forget me?
The whispers in her memory could take a hike.
Don’t let me hold you back from living your life. It’s…it’s all right if you forget about me.
She’d take the advice given her by a charming young man, even if part of her didn’t want to.
She had a second chance with the sweet young man in front of her. Only a fool or an incorrigible dreamer would pass it up, and Katy was neither.
“If you’re sure…” With his furrowed brow and slightly pursed lips, he looked like he wasn’t, but he held out his arm anyway. “Shall we?”
~
“I hope you don’t mind walking down the main road this time,” Fritz said, laying his right hand on hers where it was tucked in his elbow. He glanced up at the sky. “It’s too cloudy to walk by the river. Maybe we should skip tonight.”
Katy pulled her cloak tighter above her right arm. In the two and a half months since Fritz had returned, she’d become familiar with his tendency to be overly concerned for her comfort. Walking with him two nights each week gave her plenty of opportunity. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied with a light smile as she squeezed his arm. “I’m not going to shrivel up because I can’t be so near my rapids that they drown out conversation. This is fine.”
His fingers lightly caressed the backs of hers before he let his hand drop back to his side. The corners of his lips curved up in a fond smile. “I’m glad to hear that. It would make me sad to take you straight back home.”
“We could join my mother and sisters upstairs, and then the weather wouldn’t matter,” she laughed.
“But then I would have to share,” he grinned back. His free hand came up to rest on her hand again. That was something that had changed in the weeks of walking together: while he was always a perfect gentleman, he had become much more comfortable touching her. Or her hands, at least. “And I like having you to myself. ”
She smiled at him before looking away, hoping it appeared as if she was simply examining the houses on the other side of the road. His teasing words should have made her happy. And they did.
But last night, she’d dreamed again of finding the young man singing in the garden. This time when she woke up, she could remember the song he’d been singing. It was the one from The Tanner’s Secret in which Lars searched for the woman he loved. Gunther was overlapping more with him in her memories.
She hoped it would make it easier to forget them both, but that didn’t seem to be proving the case yet. Not when they haunted her dreams.
As they turned the corner onto the main street, Katy found herself looking up at the sky. She wished the cloud cover wasn’t so thick. Not so that Fritz could take her down by the river, but so that she would be able to see the familiar, comforting pinpricks of the stars. They always made her feel better when she was distressed.
Not that she should feel distressed while strolling along on Fritz’s arm.
But she did, and that fact only added to her distress.
They walked in silence. Whenever Katy chanced a glance at her companion, she saw a soft smile gracing his lips. If he happened to be glancing at her, the smile would widen until the light from one of the road lamps reflected faintly off his teeth. Katy hoped that her answering looks assured him that she was enjoying herself just as much as he was.
They were nearing the small village tavern when she heard the raised voice of her father. Increasing her pace, she flashed Fritz a sheepish grin. “You don’t mind if we hurry past the tavern, do you?”
“Of course not.” He lengthened his stride to match hers, looking warily at the establishment. Katy hoped he wouldn’t be put off if he recognized the voice. After all, he had known her father’s reputation when he asked her to walk. How much worse could it be to hear one of his drunken arguments?
“An outrage, I tell you! An outrage!” her father’s voice rang out, muffled by the walls of the building but loud enough to be distinct as Katy and Fritz drew even with the corner. “Yes, he let us have our spinning wheels back six years ago, but for thirteen years before that, they weren’t allowed anywhere in or around the village, and for what? Just so he can prove his power over us?”
Another voice made a reply, but it was too quiet for the words to carry past the walls. If it was meant to calm her father down, it failed.
“Sheep have always been the backbone of this community! But what good are they when you can’t spin the wool? For thirteen years, King Steffan crippled us!”
Katy felt her feet slow as her head turned to stare at the stone wall and the light showing through the cracks in its shutters. What was her father thinking, speaking against the king like that?
“He didn’t think about us when he ordered Reineggburg Castle abandoned six years ago, and I know it hurt more folk than my family. He didn’t think about us when he outlawed spinning wheels almost twenty years ago, denying us the right to earn more on our wool through our labor. I’ve a sick wife at home; my Katy works her fingers to the bone to make ends meet, and she spins so well we get the best price on the market.”
“No, no, no,” she muttered urgently, her eyes wide as she took a step toward the door, her left hand stretching toward it as her right began to slip from Fritz’s arm. “Stop; don’t bring me into this!”
Fritz caught her hand and tugged on it gently. “Let’s not stop, Katy. It won’t do any good.” His voice sounded worried, but Katy’s focus was on her father’s rant.
“I’m beholden to him for my flock. But if the king had never taken our spinning wheels, Katy would’ve been spinning her whole life. With an extra decade of her profits, I’d have riches to spare. And with that much experience, her spinning would be so fine it might as well be gold!”
The roar that greeted this point in the speech must have been deafening inside the tavern, given how loud it was outside. Katy couldn’t even tell if her father had stopped speaking or if he had been drowned out by his listeners.
“Katy, come on. Let’s leave,” Fritz pled. His other hand gripped her shoulder, trying to pull her away, but her feet were glued to the dirt road as her eyes were glued to the tavern wall.
Suddenly, the din became louder as the front door swung open and a tall man shrouded in a dark cloak stepped out. Backlit as he was, she couldn’t have discerned his features even if his hood were thrown back instead of pulled low over his face. He slammed the door, and with the loss of light from the tavern, Katy thought she could make out a wide grin in the dim light from a distant lamp. It wasn’t a nice grin.
“Look who’s here,” he drawled. Katy shrank back into Fritz, retreating when the man swung his hooded face toward her. “I’m so glad you were able to witness this delightful little scene.”
“W-what are you talking about?” Katy stuttered as Fritz hauled her back, pivoting on his left foot to put himself between her and the stranger.
“Excuse us, sir.” He began walking back the way they had come, dragging Katy along beside him.
The stranger threw his hands out wide. “You don’t want to see how it ends, little girl? This primary step to the fulfillment of your dreams? ”
“My dreams?” Her upper lip curled as she twisted in Fritz’s hands to look over her shoulder. “What would you know about—”
“Ignore him, Katy,” Fritz muttered in her ear. “Keep walking.”
Laughing, the stranger called after her, “I know they don’t involve a poor tanner. Not a real one, at least.”
Her nose wrinkled in confusion as Fritz’s lips pressed together. What was that supposed to mean? And she didn’t recognize the man’s voice, so how did he know Fritz was a tanner?
To her relief, the stranger didn’t add anything else as they practically jogged back down the road. He couldn’t know anything about her, but the way he spoke… She didn’t need Fritz to wonder if perhaps he did.