Page 20 of The Starling and the Hatter

My brow furrowed. “Why would that not be an option?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Your parents suggested staying here with Dorothy. They never mentioned traveling with you.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Oh,” I said, my irritation leaking into the ground below me. “I just assumed you knew that—”

“And I can pay you,” she said.

Of course she’d want to pay us. Stubborn, independent girl. I nearly groaned. Would she set aside her pride for even a moment? Then I had an idea. “Are you good at cooking over a fire?”

“Of course,” she said as though it was an idiotic question. I supposed to her, it was. She’d spend her entire life living out of a wagon, after all.

“Well, Dad and I aren’t so keen on it. We make do while we travel, but neither of us are all that good at it. So if you could help us with some of the cooking, that would be payment enough.”

She looked at me another moment and then gave a slow nod. “Thank you. But I’ll be doing all the cooking.”

I bit my tongue. If that’s what her pride demanded, then so be it. “Fine.” At least she’d be safe during our travels, and hopefully by the time we returned, she’d trust us enough to stay the winter with us. I turned to walk back to the tent and heard her follow after me.

“What are you doing now?” she asked.

“Packing up, of course.”

“I’ll help.”

My nostrils flared. “Fine.”

I had to examine why it was that her offers to help bothered me so much. It wasn’t that I minded help. I appreciated it. But the way she insisted on it, like she owed it to me, or like I expected it of her…it just grated on me.

“I’m going to accept,” she said suddenly.

“Accept what?”

“Your parents’ offer.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “You are?”

She looked up at me, her eyes vulnerable but determined, then gave one solid nod.

“You’ll stay the winter with us?” I asked to clarify.

She nodded again.

A breath of relief rushed out of me, and I had to turn away as the worried knot that had constricted my chest for several days finally let go. “Good” was all I let myself say. “Good, I’m glad.” What I wanted to say was that it was about time, and it shouldn’t have taken her so long to accept the genuine kindness of my parents. But I’d lived enough years to know it wasn’t that simple. Fourteen-year-old girls who were utterly alone in the world had every reason not to trust people.

Elise

The Hatchers’ wagon was not nearly as comfortable as the wolf wagon, but that wasn’t surprising. This wagon was built for occasional travel. It was filled with all their supplies and didn’t have room for any of us to sleep in it. My brothers’ wagon had been built to travel constantly while being lived in.

Though it was a relief to have a sense of safety and people who seemed willing to look out for me, adjusting to traveling with Marshall and Maddox was…taxing.

I was determined to earn my keep, so the first night, I slept fitfully, worried that any movement would wake Maddox or Marshall, who slept on the ground close to me, worried that I would sleep too deeply and not rise early enough to start the morning fire. When just a hint of dawn was in the sky, I got up carefully and made my way out from under the wagon. Both men had insisted I sleep under its shelter, which was so kind but also made me feel guilty.

So I crept over and gathered what I needed to start a fire, then tip-toed back to the wagon to gather a pot to boil water. I knew how much Marshall liked tea, and the least I could do was have some ready when he woke. But when I pulled the pot from the wagon, the things that had been around it collapsed in on themselves, clattering and banging together.

Marshall sat bolt upright as Maddox sat up more slowly.

I winced and cowered, panic filling my chest, knowing that if such a thing had happened with my brothers, the consequences would have left bruises.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry. I was just wanting to prepare hot water so that—”