Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (the rosie project .txt) 📕

was the reason she’d tossed it to the floor to begin with. “Finish up, girl, we open in less than an hour.”

Starnes had completed stocking the shelves. “Father needs tending. I’m taking him some food before business starts up.” He turned toward the kitchen.

“He stinks.” Cance’s crinkled her nose. “Clean him up.”

LaRenna was bent over yet another table, wiping the base. When Starnes returned from the kitchen, he came close to inspect her work. “Who taught you to clean? Not like that, girl. Like this.” He placed the tray on the table and crouched to scrub the base himself. “Don’t just stand there. Get down here and watch the right way to do this.” LaRenna hunkered beside him with an inquisitive look on her face. She knew the job was adequate and wondered why he chose to criticize her so. “Medicine,” he whispered when she was close enough. “Please.” She glanced to see if they were still being observed. Cance’s back was to them.

LaRenna flipped up the hem of her skirt and popped two of the stitches. The medicine packet fell into her palm. “Here.” She slid the pack into his hand. “Half now, the rest in four hours.”

Starnes placed the packet in his vest pocket and stood. “That’s better, girl. Finish them last two tables then get something to eat. You can’t work half the night with nothing in you.” He left her to finish the task.

When she’d finished, LaRenna removed her apron and washed her hands in the kitchen basin. A variety of aromatic roast meats and breads were keeping warm on the steam table, a difficult choice, as Starnes was an excellent cook. She chose a slice of each then carried her plate and a neglected sweet jam pot to the dining area. Cance leisurely observed all the while, expressing mild surprise when LaRenna walked behind the bar counter, chose a dusty crystal from a high shelf, and took it to a table.

“Drinking the profits with our dinner, are we?” Cance tossed LaRenna a clean glass.

“It doesn’t look like bitterwine is a popular choice. It won’t be missed.”

“Bitterwine and sweet jam, interesting combination.” Cance stared piercingly at her, wishing her lenses were back so she could edge into the barmaid’s mind. “Where did you say you were from again?”

“West of here, near the Lanslotchin valley.” LaRenna spread a thick layer of jam on her bread and poured a shot of wine. Cance’s brows knitted with suspicion.

“Then where the hell did you pick up that habit?”

Only then did LaRenna realize her mistake. Sweet jams on bread was a decidedly Taelach habit. Her mind raced for a second then she smiled. This was easy to explain away. “We had a Taelach teacher who divided her time between my parents’ farm compound and three others. When she was teaching at ours, she usually boarded with my family. I guess that’s where I picked up my affection for jam.”

“Oh?” Cance remained unconvinced.

“She shared a room with me and my two older sisters. Always brought loads of sweets. Now that I think about it, I probably picked up a few other small Taelach habits I don’t realize.”

“Like the capability to form a complete sentence?” said Cance in hopes of argument. “Farm brats seldom learn that skill. You people spend far too much time with your animals to be very intelligent.”

“My father believed in education, even for his girls to a certain level. I had an excellent teacher.” LaRenna shoved a large cut of meat into her mouth. She couldn’t make another mistake if she kept it full.

“So you read and write?”

“Mmmhm.”

“A Taelach taught you?”

LaRenna nodded.

“Hmph. Autlach children need Autlach teachers. Taelachs disrupt the natural cycle when they put their noses where they don’t belong.”

LaRenna swallowed, quickly shoved another bite into her mouth then shrugged, hoping the answer would suffice.

To her dismay Cance rose from her stool to take a seat at the same table, a casual, almost flirtatious smile crossing her face as she approached. “Too much sun will make you wrinkle before you should. It’d be a pity to see such a pretty young woman go to waste.”

LaRenna feigned ignorance. “Really? I always stayed this way from fieldwork. Never heard it was harmful, only healthy.”

“Move to the northern highlands and you’ll lose that color.” Cance held out her palm. It was pale, but not outside Autlach possibility and nowhere near as washed as LaRenna’s natural tone. “That’s where I’m from. You can’t go outside there during the winter cycles. Too cold.”

LaRenna let the poor explanation stand and downed a shot of bitterwine. The dark drink had a syrupy consistency that repulsed most, Cance included. “I don’t know many who actually care for bitterwine these days. It’s a drink for the old.” LaRenna smiled and drained a second shot, clinking the glass twice as she set it down, which brought yet another puzzled look to Cance’s face. “You remind me of someone.”

“I do?”

“I’m not sure, but somebody I know does that when they drink shots.” Cance peered at the empty glass. “I wish I could remember. Ah, no matter.” The thought faded into insignificance as Starnes shuffled down the stairs.

He watched them for a second then turned to LaRenna, unable to mask his confusion. “I . . . uh . . . hurry up with your dinner, girl. We open in minutes.”

“Leave her be, Starnes.” Cance caressed LaRenna’s forearm. “She’s kept me company. Bright girl to be working here.” She pointed toward him with the other hand. “You found her at the Hiring Hall?”

“Times are tough,” said LaRenna to prevent a fatal error on Starnes’s part. “You take what you can get.”

“I suppose.” But Cance still wondered. This girl was capable of far more than waiting tables, that was for certain. “I’m going upstairs to work, but I wish to speak with you a moment first, Starnes. Come here.” She dismissed LaRenna to the kitchen area, allowing him to slide into her still warm seat.

“I don’t want to find out you’ve told