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‘Begging your pardon, Miz Rosebank,’ said Cook, her gaze fixed on Ginger. Vinca’s brow was furrowed, and she had half a mind to remind Ginger whose kitchen it was and who decided who did which jobs. But the lass seemed frantic to tell her something. Though what could be so important that one would treat a guest of the Inn as one of the staff was something she could not fathom at the moment.
Her glance drifted to Buttercup, whose eyes went wide and shoulders shrugged at the implied question. ‘So it’s not something Ginger has told the other two.’ She could see Ruby offering to help the woman put on the apron.
‘I’ll just settle up this matter with Ginger and be back to speak with you.’ She looked at the woman’s hands. They seemed to have known their share of work. ‘If you don’t mind helping with the washing up, we’d be glad to accept your offer. And then perhaps when the serving up is done and the leftovers stored in the pantry, we can sit down and have a talk about the Faire.’ She was curious to know what the woman from Bree would bring to the event.
‘Come along, then, Ginger. We’ll just go down to the root cellar and get us out a basket of taters for supper. She suppressed a smile as Buttercup groaned quietly behind her. Peeling taters was not one of her favorite tasks.
~*~
As they scooped up taters in the dim light cast down the stairs from the cellar door, Cook questioned Ginger about ‘the message’. The words poured out of Ginger all higgledy-piggledy and Cook had to stop her several times to sort out the main concern. In the end, she had put it together about Miz Rosebank and Bree and Tim and Wren. And Wren’s fears, too.
‘Well, of course we won’t let anyone snatch them away from us,’ Cook said, in an attempt to allay Ginger’s worries. ‘But I’ll need to sort this out with Miz Rosebank. If they’ve got any family, it might be a different story.’
The two of them managed the heavy basket up the stairs, and set it down by the back yard pump. Ginger was instructed to wash the taters and scrub them thoroughly with the stiff brush left hanging on the pump post.
Cook sluiced the dirt from her hands in the cold water and wiped them dry on her apron. Leaving Ginger to her task, she returned to the kitchen, thinking how best she might ferret out the information she needed.
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