Page 13 of The Starling and the Hatter

Elise

I returned to the Hatcher Hats and Costumes tent as the sun dipped low in the sky. Though I was nervous at the prospect of being a guest in Maddox’s home, that feeling was overshadowed by the prospect of food. Real food. Possibly abundant food. I’d been preoccupied by the thought all afternoon. Would they have bread? Maybe even warm biscuits? Would they serve any meat? Or just a vegetable broth? I tortured myself with the possibilities right up until I saw Maddox and Marshall outside the opening of their tent, waiting for me.

I rushed the last few strides. “I’m sorry I’m late,” I apologized.

“You’re not late at all. I was just giving Maddox a few last-minute instructions.”

Maddox rolled his eyes. “I think I know what I’m doing by now.”

“Fine, fine,” Marshall conceded, then turned to me. “Are you ready for a good dinner?” he asked in what seemed to be his usual jovial manner.

“I—” My stomach interrupted me with a loud gurgle. I looked away, my face flaming in embarrassment. All the tantalizing options I’d conjured in my mind of what food might be given me this evening was making my empty stomach churn.

Marshall didn’t laugh, thankfully. He just said, “I’ll take that as a yes,” and then started walking. “Come along. The house is this way.”

I looked over at Maddox, fully expecting him to be grinning, or even laughing at me. Instead, his smile was soft, and his eyes were concerned. It was such a different reaction than I’d been expecting that I blinked for a moment. His kindness created a warm, soft spot inside my chest. There were just so many things to like about Maddox.

“Go on,” he said quietly, tilting his head toward his father’s retreating back. “Tell the girls hello for me.”

I nodded as my face cooled and I turned to follow Marshall through the festival and toward the village proper.

The Hatcher home was not completely opposite the village from the festival grounds, but it was a fair walk. Marshall whistled a tune most of the way, his steps quick and jaunty, seeming entirely at ease without us conversing at all.

How grateful I was for that fact. I didn’t know that I could have handled an inquiry into my life or my plans for the future—or my family. So once I’d stopped worrying that he was going to pepper me with questions, I was able to enjoy the walk. We found the stream that ran around the edge of the village and followed it, breaking away from it to approach their house from behind, where it sat at the very outskirts of the village.

Marshall opened the door and waved me inside. “Here we are,” he said.

I stepped inside, recognizing right away that my daydreams of what their house would be like were not far off.

It was a warm house, and it smelled spectacular. The scents of bread and meat and vegetables filled the air. I wanted to faint with rapture.

“Dorothy,” Marshall called, “I’ve brought our guest.”

“Is she here?” a little shout came from another room, accompanied by clambering and scraping chairs. Then Twyla and Didi came racing through a doorway, big smiles on their faces.

Twyla came to a stop just in front of me, her smile still in place.

Didi stopped a few steps away, her face scrunching in consternation. “You’re not the Starling right now,” she said as though it was a great affront to see me out of costume. I smothered a grin.

Dorothy followed after them, rolling her eyes even while her lips turned up. “No, she’s not. She’s a real person, and when we meet people, what do we do?” she prompted.

Both girls sank into a curtsey, saying, “How do you do?” almost in unison.

Didi took a step forward and held out her hand. “Now we shake hands.”

“Oh, of course.” I curtsied, said, “How do you do,” and then took the hand she still held out.

“Where’s your pretty cape?” Twyla asked.

“It’s in my satchel.” Along with everything else that I owned.

“Run along and finish setting the table, girls.” They were quick to race off and do Dorothy’s bidding, so she turned back to me. “It’s lovely to see you again, Miss Elise.”

“Please, I’m not a Miss anything. Just Elise is all I am.”

“As you like,” Dorothy said, handing little Mouse off to Marshall when he reached for the boy. “I’ll see if I can get Kat to come down. She’s about your age, I’d say. How old are you, dear?”

“Fourteen.”