“Mrs.Cartweaver said she saw faded tracks leading up to the old mountain a few mornings ago.Know anything about that?”One eye squinted, as though he was trying to pull the truth out of her by glaring.
Curses.She’d left tracks in the snow on her return trip from speaking to the stranger.She’d hoped it would have gone unnoticed, but the slow falling snow didn’t cover her footsteps.And Mrs.Cartweaver was the village busybody, anyway.
“Mr.Fullhide, I’m sure I don’t know what that means.Now, about the furs—”
“Mrs.Cartweaver said she saw someone coming from the mountain.With a lantern.”
Serena forced a laugh.She clenched her jaw.Stars above.What was the old bat doing peering out her window at that time, anyway?
“And?”
“Was it you?”His question was harsh and direct.
She forced herself to remain calm.“What if it was?Am I not allowed to have an early morning stroll?”
“In the cold while it’s snowing?”His brow lifted higher.
“The furs, Mr.Fullhide,” she said, tersely, trying desperately to get him back on track.
But he continued to peer at her with suspicion.
She didn’t owe him an explanation.She didn’t owe anyone an explanation.It was difficult to squelch the rumor mill, though.
“They’re good enough.I’m sure I can use them.”He counted them again.“Legend says the old wishing well is up there.Or used to be.”Then he lifted his gaze and peered at her over the tops of his spectacles.
“Is it?I wouldn’t know.”
Her gut clenched.What was he getting at?Was he trying to find out of she’d gone up there, made a wish and…it came true?If she told him that, then it would spread like wildfire through the village and then the stranger…
The stranger would have no peace.
I pay, too.
This was getting out of hand.
“What do you want for the furs?”he asked.
Relief sputtered through her.They were getting back to the business at hand.“I need the usual.Flour, sugar, tea.A bit of dried meat if you have it.”
He packed up her requests adding them to a large brown paper bag and sliding it across the counter to her.
“Thank you, Mr.Fullhide,” she said, taking the bag.
“I heard the town folks talking about King Leonidas,” Fullhide said, lowering his voice as though the rafters themselves might listen.
That caught her attention.She quirked a brow.“Oh?”
“There’s tell he might visit our village.”
“Why would he come here?”she asked, truly unnerved by the notion of royalty coming to their poor village.
“Word of your father’s recovery—and your generosity with paying the taxman—has reached his ears.”
Oh, dear.This wasn’t good.
“Has it?”She tried to keep her voice even and steady.
“Mm-hm,” Mr.Fullhide said, his gaze piercing her.It was clear there was an unasked question or perhaps an accusation ready to fly off his tongue.
