Page 28 of Heart of Snow
I smiled back, but feeling unaccountably shy, I turned my gaze away, letting my sights drift over the untidy little cabin. Miners’ caps scattered halos of dirt wherever they lay. Shirts and hose muddy enough to grow a garden were piling up in corners, and every bed was unmade save one.
“Who sleeps there?” I asked. “He deserves praise for being the cleanest among you.”
No one answered. No one spoke at all, and the uncomfortable silence grew heavy enough that even Belinda paused when she’d returned from putting away the herbs, looking around the room curiously.
Friedrich finally replied, “That was Jakob’s bed.”
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Who’s Jakob?”
Heinrich and Emil started straightening the shoes, but Wilhelm pulled out a chair and patted it, inviting me to sit beside him at the table. By the time I’d taken my seat, he was already staring at the twisting hearth flames with a faraway look in his eyes.
“The mines aren’t safe fer workin’,” he began. “We do what we can—wear hoods and aprons and such—but there’s nothin’ fer it when the Meister Hämmerling decides to play his tricks.”
“Meister Hämmerling?” I raised a brow.
He nodded. “An evil spirit that haunts the mines. At times he’s a giant bear. At others, a black horse with one great red eye. But most often he’s a monk wearing flowin’ robes of blackest night. And he plays tricks, doin’ all manner of mischief, then punishing any miners who get angry. Jakob said he saw him befer we climbed into the shafts, a dark monk standin’ back in the trees. Jakob was afraid to go down, but we told him all’s well, that he’d only imagined it. He was young enough to fit in the narrow veins, and when we heard the rocks and dirt tumblin’, we knew there’d been a cave-in. Emil wriggled down the shaft first to try to dig Jakob out. He and the other boys crawled on their bellies, using shunts to haul out the extra dirt, but they wasn’t fast enough.”
I glanced at Emil now sitting on his bed, his head bowed low, his hands clasped behind his neck. Was he still haunted by Jakob’s muffled screams? Could he hear Jakob’s panic until it faded into silence?
I sucked in air, my head dizzy from my abated breath. Without meaning to, I’d put myself in poor Jakob’s place, feeling his desperation, his terror. Imagining his frenzied struggle to free himself as his life was snuffed out beneath the dirt. I squeezed my eyes closed, shaking my head to rid myself of the thoughts that left a pit in my gut.
***
Friedrich
Margaretha—that is, the countess—kept her eyes pressed shut, scrubbing a hand over her nose as if she might cry.
“Wilhelm,” I called across the room. “This isn’t a tale for young maids. Speak of something jolly. Entertain her with your fairy stories.”
Ernst coughed again, spilling his tonic, and I put my hands over his to help bring the cup to his lips. When he’d finished drinking, I looked back at the countess. She seemed mostly recovered. Her broken look had turned into a soft smile while Wilhelm spoke of kobolds hiding coins in his shoes.
Ernst cleared his throat, wearing a smirk that made me realize I’d been staring at Margaretha with a soft smile of my own. I ducked my head and picked my thumbnail.
“She’s very beautiful, isn’t she,” Ernst said.
It wasn’t a question, and the statement was too obvious to require an answer.
“What d’ya like about her most?”
“Ernst.” I blew out a long breath. “Let me put a stop to such thoughts now. Margaretha is only a friend. She has knowledge of healing, and I hoped she could help you, or I never would have brought her here.”
“And yet she came. Eager to help yer friends. Eager to help you.”
“You assume more than is there,” I answered flatly, wanting to end the conversation.
“Do I?” Ernst smoothed a hand over his whiskers. “Then why does she watch ya so?”
I flicked a glance at the table, meeting Margaretha’s eye as she smiled one of her breathtaking smiles, the kind I had to daily pretend didn’t make my heart pump a few beats quicker. Heaven and earth, ofcourseshe was beautiful! And frustratingly thoughtful and kind. But what did it matter? She was noble, I was a servant, and she was set to go to Brussels. Even the suggestion of some kind of affection between us was too ridiculous to consider.
Why did my lungs suddenly feel tight? I sucked in a breath, rubbing a fist over my chest. “Ernst, there are... obstacles.”
He took another sip from his tonic. “Ya mean yer afraid.” I started to object, but he held up a hand. “I don’t blame ya. I’m certain I’d be scared too, winning the favor of such a beautiful maid.”
“I’m not scared. And I’ve won no such favor,” I protested. “The circumstances between us mean I should never even think about her that way. Idon’tthink of her that way.”
“Tush,” Ernst said. “You young men are all so bent on arrangin’ yer lives, ya forget to step out and live ’em. Move now while she still looks willing.”
Looks willing?Across the room the countess sat listening to another of Wilhelm’s tales, but she kept glancing at me. Why?
