After the Forest by Kell Woods

Author:Kell Woods
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

* * *

“Why didn’t you throw away the rest of the gingerbread?” Hans pulled Greta aside during a break in the dancing, sloshing beer onto the cobbles and narrowly missing her skirt. “I’ve just seen Frau Winter bring more out from the storehouse.” He searched her face fearfully. “You didn’t eat any, did you?”

“No,” she said, lifting her skirt away from the spill. “Why?”

“I saw you dancing with the Tyroler. I thought perhaps…”

“No.” She blushed. “No.”

The gathering swelled and pulsed around them: a young couple kissed passionately in a doorway, hardly caring who saw. Father Markus sat at a table littered with scraps and empty jugs, stuffing handfuls of wurst into his mouth. Atop another table Anna-Barbara Wittman danced madly, skirts high, plump legs bared to the knee.

“Sweet Jesus.” Hans tossed back the contents of his cup in a single gulp.

Greta cringed. “Perhaps you should…”

“I can’t get through this night sober, Greta. Do not ask it of me.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Although, perhaps I should thank you, after all. Herr Winter has just informed me that he’s secured a house for Ingrid and me here in the village. It would seem that we’re forgiven.”

“Well! That is good news!” Greta was unable to hide her grin.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hans said. “And I won’t force you to come and live with us. If you want to stay on the mountain after the wedding, I won’t stop you.”

“Oh, Hans!” She hugged him. “How can I ever thank you?”

“By destroying what’s left of that godforsaken gingerbread. If Herr Winter eats any more, I fear he will throw my new mother-in-law on the table in front of everyone and—”

“Yes, yes.” Greta hurried into the hall. “I’ll do it now.” There was no denying that the gingerbread had done its work perfectly. Enough, after all, was enough.

She was halfway down the dim passageway when Herr Hueber tottered out of the shadows.

“You and the Tyroler seem to be getting along, fräulein. I see now why you balked at my offer.”

Soft footsteps behind her.

“Is everything well, Greta?” Mathias asked.

“Greta, is it? My, my, things are moving along.” Herr Hueber took a swig from his cup. “I was just bidding Margareta a good evening. She looks well tonight, doesn’t she? Such a shame. About the dowry, I mean.”

“Herr Hueber—”

“Hush, fräulein.” Herr Hueber flapped a hand in Greta’s direction. “Best that your gallant suitor knows what he’s getting—even if he is Papist scum.” He cleared his throat pompously. “You see, woodsman, the Rosenthals have always had but little with which to feather their nests. Peter worked hard—but I never knew a rich woodcutter, did you?—while dear Hans does the opposite. Never worked a full day in his life and gambles what he does earn at the earliest convenience. His lucky match with a Winter will no doubt help, but even so …I’d bet my last pfennig that there is no dowry for his pretty sister. I take it you know the family history? Lena died tragically—killed by wolves, of all things.

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