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Rowan grinned impishly at Cook, biting back a small comment on Cela’s age. She ducked out the door of the kitchen with her refilled tray of breakfast platters and made her round of the customers. Her last basket of hot biscuits was set down for the new family who’d recently come in 'with honey and jam both, if you please, Miss’ from the little girl. Rowan had dipped a little curtsy to the girl, saying she would bring her an extra pot of jam – blackberry, very tasty . . . and Rowan’s favorite one.
She was just on her way back to the kitchen, her empty tray banging along lightly against her ankle when she spied a familiar face. Rowan changed course and headed to Meliot Tussle’s table.
‘I thought you weren’t coming today! Didn’t see you at your usual time.’ Rowan sat her big tray’s edge on the floor in front of her and leaned on it a bit. ‘So what can I get for you, Meliot?’ She leaned in a little closer, pitching her voice a little lower. ‘Did you hear about the Bolger boys? The two younger ones? I heard something about them getting caught by old Noakes. They were getting up before the sun was up and stealing fish out of his traps. What’d you hear?’ Rowan loved gossip, and Meliot always seemed to know things . . .
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