Wildwood Dancing Read Online Free PDF Page B

end.”
    “It’s a lot of work for a girl—” Cezar began.
    “I wish to speak with each of my daughters on her own for a moment,” Father said quietly. “You first, Jena. Nicolae?”
    Uncle Nicolae gave a nod and drew Cezar aside. My sisters were standing on the steps before the main entry to the castle, with Florica and Petru behind them. Though the girls lookedhalf-asleep, I could see that every one of them was struggling not to cry. A chill wind blew down from the forest: a messenger of winter. Under the tall pines, all was quiet.
    “Now, Jena,” Father said, out of the others’ hearing, “I suppose in a way Cezar is right—this is a great deal of responsibility, and you are only fifteen. Are you quite sure you understand what I explained to you about the funds, and about dealing with that shipment from Salem bin Afazi when it comes? I’ve left sufficient silver for your domestic expenses until well into spring, but if anything untoward should happen—”
    “Please don’t worry about us, Father,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. Within his layers of winter clothing, he looked pale and wretched. “I’ve remembered about keeping business money separate from household, and I know the record-keeping part of things backward. The girls will help with the shipment and Ivan can bring some men up from the village if we need any heavy lifting.” Ivan, grandson of Florica and Petru, had his own smallholding not far away. “We’ll be fine.”
    “Tati doesn’t have the same head for business that you do, Jena. Let her be a mother to the younger ones—she’s always done that job well, ever since I lost Bianca. And so have you, of course. You are good daughters.” We knew that Father would never marry again; his love for Mother was in his voice every time he spoke her name.
    “Thank you, Father.” Curse it, I wasn’t going to cry. I was going to be strong, to set an example.
    “Perhaps you’d be wise to curtail your trips into the forest over the winter.” Father’s tone was mild. He was not the kind of man who forbade things. The most he did was offer gentlesuggestions. “I know you and that frog love your adventures, but now you are a little older, you should perhaps observe other folk’s rules awhile, at least until I’m home again. In this community my method of bringing up my daughters is considered eccentric. They already believe I allow you too much responsibility. Best not give them any more fuel for comment while I’m gone; I’d hate for you to be hurt by foolish tongues. Your aunt Bogdana is a sound source of advice on matters of propriety.”
    “I’ll try, Father.” He knew, and I knew, that I was no more capable of staying out of the forest than I was of holding back my opinions when I thought I was right.
    You can’t mean that. What about our picnics? What about pondweed pancakes?
    “Shh,” I whispered to the frog, and then it was time to say goodbye. I managed to kiss Father on both cheeks without letting my tears spill. Then I stepped back to allow each of my sisters her moment of farewell. I stroked Gogu’s cool, damp skin with a finger as I lifted him from my shoulder to slip him into my pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cezar watching me. “It’s nearly winter,” I murmured. “Too cold for picnics.”
    After we’d watched Father and Gabriel ride away, I think all five of us wanted to go back to bed and catch up on lost sleep—or just sit quietly, considering how life could change overnight, and how hard it could be to deal with. But Uncle Nicolae and Cezar had made the effort to ride through the forest to bid Father farewell, so we had to invite them in for refreshments. We used the kitchen, which was big, warm, andwelcoming, if informal. The floor was tiled in red and the walls were bright with woolen hangings of our housekeeper’s own weaving, showing patterns of stripes and trees and little flowers in rows. The fire in the stove was glowing, for