Strawberry Moon Read Online Free PDF Page A

still pale, but the spark was back in her eyes. “I am not. I could not abide a winter in Canada. My ship sails in the fall.”
    Max looked relieved, but my heart was pounding. Had Papa and Grandmotherdiscussed her horrible plan again? Would Papa make me go? I shivered. I would run away and hide until Grandmother’s ship left. Papa would be sick with worry, and it would serve him right.
    Just then, a pounding on the door made us all jump. It was our neighbor, Mr. McDougall.
    â€œThere was a fire last night at the Robertsons’!” he said.
    The Robertsons had a farm on the road to The Landings. They had a big noisy family of eight children and another baby on the way.
    Papa was already grabbing his coat. “Is it bad?”
    â€œThey saved the barn, but the cabin burned to the ground,” said Mr. McDougall. “They lost everything.”
    Grandmother gasped.
    â€œI’m getting together a group of men to build a shanty for the family to live in,” said Mr. McDougall. “Can you spare a couple of days?”
    Papa had finished planting his wheat, but he looked at Grandmother and hesitated.
    â€œThe children and I will be fine,” she said, her face pale.
    My stomach sank. Papa said, “Max will come with me. He’s old enough to help. Ellie, put together some food while I hitch up the horses.”
    For the next hour everyone rushed around. I packed up jars of fruit and vegetables, two loaves of bread, a sack of potatoes and a big ham. Papa and Max loaded tools, buckets, blankets, pots and spare clothing into the wagon.
    I waved until Papa and Max were out of sight. How would I ever stand Grandmother for two days by myself?
    I slipped back to the shanty. The baby fox looked like a ragged scrap of black fur in the hay, his eyes tightly closed, but he was still alive. I tucked more hay around him and went back to the cabin, afraid to leave Grandmother alone for too long. Grandmother was lying on Papa’s bed, snoring gently. I closed the bedroom door with a sigh and walked over to the spinning wheel. The wheel moved smoothly without makingeven a tiny squeak. I spun it harder and it whirred softly.
    I had watched the widow Sally spinning my wool into yarn on her old spinning wheel lots of times. A sudden idea burst into my head. I always had to give Sally some of the yarn in payment. But if I could spin my own, I would have a lot more to trade at the store at The Landings! I might even have enough to get that matching coat and hat that I had wanted for so long.
    I glanced at the bedroom door. The Robertsons’ fire had upset Grandmother. She would probably stay in bed for the rest of the evening. I looked back at the spinning wheel. What was so special about it anyway? How could it hurt if I just tried it once?
    I fetched a basket of my wool from the barn. When I got back I stood by the bedroom door and listened. There was no sound. My heart pounding, I sat down at the spinning wheel.
    I pushed the treadle with my feet. I pushed too hard, and the wheel spunwildly. Startled, I yanked my feet off. I took a big breath and tried again. The wheel jerked and stopped, jerked and stopped. I sighed. Sally made it look so easy.
    I grabbed a handful of wool and started twisting. The treadle banged up and down. After a while, I stretched out a piece of the yarn to inspect it. It didn’t look like the yarn Sally spun. It was skinny in places and had horrible lumps in others. I bit my lip. Maybe I was trying to go too slowly. I pumped the treadle harder.
    Whirr
. The wheel spun wildly.
    I was concentrating so hard that I didn’t pay any attention to Pirate. He crouched on the floor, watching the spinning wheel. I glanced down and saw his tail twitch back and forth. I knew what that meant!
    â€œPirate, no!” I said.
    But it was too late. Pirate sprang through the air and landed on the side of the spinning wheel.
    Rrrrooow
! His claws scrabbled for something to grip. The