[Arry]

Andwise walked slowly toward the Inn. Not that he was tired . . . it was more that he had some thinking to do . . . and he often found it better to do so in solitude and without haste. He drew his pouch of pipeweed from his vest pocket and tamped in a generous pinch to the bowl of his cherrywood pipe. It remained unlit as he ambled on, his hand moving the pipestem along his lower lip as his thoughts jumbled about. The rich, familiar smell of the Southfarthing’s sweet galenas soothed him a bit, and soon he was stacking his questions and ponderings in neat piles, as he did his stacks of woods in his workshop at home.

His eyes flicked up as he noticed Miz Bunce stumping along in the distance ahead of him. And further on were Derufin and his Ferdy, almost to the Inn. ‘My, my,’ he sighed, as he looked at his son and considered him a different light altogether. ‘He has grown up, hasn’t he Lily?’ he said pointing the stem of his pipe at the young man. Andwise was often given to talking to his dear departed wife, in spirit, as he sorted through the problems that beset him. ‘And now I see what Ma was trying to get at with her talk of how lads need to be pushed a bit as they grow older. Not right, she said, a young man be spending all his time with wood and sawdust.’

He chuckled a little at the no nonsense approach of Miz Bunce. Never one to talk around a subject, Cook had gotten straight to the point. The boy’s, no the lad’s, Ma was not here to do for him, and so she was offering to do so. A lass had come to her, Miz Bunce had told him, a lass quite fond of Ferdy and asked for help in letting Ferdy know of her interest and determining whether said interest was mutual. ‘I’ve done so for my own lads, Master Banks,’ she assured him. ‘And I have to tell you, I can be gentle as needed or deliver the needed wallop should the lad prove mulish.’ Andwise had spluttered at the thought of Ferdy being thought in the least mulish, assuring the dear lady that gentle would most like be the best way.

‘Are you certain I shouldn’t be the one to talk to him,’ asked Andwise, an unsure tone in his voice. ‘Best I speak with him first,’ rejoined Cook. ‘A few words from a neutral observer, so to speak. Let him know there’s someone with an interest.’ She looked Andwise squarely in the face. ‘But then you should be the one to follow up on it. Being the lad’s father, a few words of guidance from your own experience would be quite helpful. Don’t you think?’

‘And who is this lass who’s come to you?’ Andwise asked, not wanting to consider Cook’s preceding question just yet. ‘And just how does she know my Ferdy?’ A note of possessive concern crept into his voice. ‘When shall I meet her?’

Cook shook her head, wondering at the thick-headedness of the Hobbit male. ‘Oh, my dear Master Banks,’ she answered, ‘why you’ve met her already . . . and often.’ His brow furrowed, trying to think who she might mean. ‘Ginger,’ Cook went on, smiling a bit as his brows rose at the mention of the girl’s name. ‘It’s Ginger who’s asked for my assistance.’

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The last few yards to the kitchen entrance of the Inn had to wait as Andwise stopped at the pump to wash his hands and face. He passed through the busy kitchen on his way to the Common Room to have supper with the others. Cook nodded at him as he went by her and there was Ginger, just taking up platters of sliced lamb roast, bowls of taters and those of buttered peas on a large carrying tray to take into the hungry patrons. ‘Here let me hold the door for you,’ he offered drawing the kitchen door open and waving her through. She colored prettily and bobbed a little thanks as she went by him. As with Ferdy, his view of her was caught in a new light as he saw the promise of young womanhood she now bore . . . and had probably borne for a while . . .

His thoughts drifted far back to his own time of courting and the sweet face of his dear Lily beamed at him in his memory as he drew up to the table where the other fellows sat. Ginger went ably about the table, he saw, seeing to the needs of the patrons in her care. Cook, he smiled to himself, had of course made sure she would serve at Ferdy’s table. The lass was gracious and efficient as she handled the platters of food and the condiments.

‘Miz Bunce has asked that you see to one of her cabinets tomorrow morning,’ he whispered, leaning toward Ferdy. ‘I’ve told her I can spare you and that you’ll be glad to help.’

Ferdy glance up at him nodding his head, wondering all the while why his Da was telling him this again.

‘She’s a wonderful woman, Cook is,’ his father went on, buttering a thick slice of bread as he went on. ‘You listen well to her instructions, you hear?’

‘Well, yes, Da,’ said Ferdy, tucking into his potatoes with a will. Surely he thought, she doesn’t mean to tell me how I am to fix the cabinet, does she? He looked to his father, a mouthful of potato half chewed.

‘Right, then,’ said Andwise. ‘Tomorrow bright and early you report to the kitchen.’ He reached for the bowl of glistening peas and helped himself to a couple of serving-spoonsful. ‘All settled, then . . . good, good,’ he murmured. Ginger came near with the platter of lamb and he beamed generously up at her. ‘Don’t mind if I do, my dear . . .’ he said forking two juicy slices onto his waiting plate.