Stu had burst into laughter the moment he’d stepped into the book and bell. Ginny was going to skin him alive, he’d warned. He hadn’t been far off the mark, the young barmaid rubbed his face down with a towel like she was trying to sand down a bit of chipped wood.
“Honestly Egg, I told you to wear something warm today.”
“It wasn’t raining when I left,” he tried with a faint smile. She wasn’t having any of it. He’d stepped into the warm embrace of the inn looking like a drowned cat and couldn’t have been stealthy about it if he’d wanted to. The wet, sucking sound his boots made on the dusted floor and the wet trail he had left behind him all but gave him away.
“You’re going to catch a cold.” She threw the towel at him and marched off into the kitchen behind the bar where she’d been doing the dishes. “Well don’t just stand around, lend a hand, will you?”
After he’d matted down his rain-soaked hair Tobias fished a tea towel off a hook on the wall and joined Ginny at her side. To his dismay the pile of dirty dishes was rather large and judging by the violent way Ginny was scrubbing them clean, she wasn’t quite done scolding him yet. On the upside she could hardly complain about him reeking from work, the hailing downpour had taken care of that.
“Busy day huh?” he said, hoping to steer the conversation away from himself. She must’ve picked up on the poorly veiled diversion judging by the glare she gave him but didn’t bother to call him out on it.
“Aye. It was quiet in the morning, but when it starts to rain like that people come flocking. I’ve done nothing but pour drinks all evening. You?”
He shrugged. “Same old same old. Overlooker’s watching me like a hawk though, thinks I’m stealing things.”
She handed him a steaming plate with a pointed look. “And?”
“What am I supposed to do with steel shanks? It ain’t me. I told him so but he doesn’t believe me.”
“Because you’re stealing the glue.”
“That’s different.”
She shook her head in that disapproving-but-approving way of hers and splashed a little foam his way. “You want to be careful Egg, I hear nothing but bad stories about how they treat people in factories.”
A rare understatement coming from Ginny, but he was smart enough not to correct her. She’d just fret over him more. “He’s alright, he just likes to dip some of us in the cistern every so often and pretend he’s boss but he doesn’t hit people.” A half-truth, but Ginny didn’t need to know that.
For a while they worked in silence until Stu’s head appeared in the doorframe. “Ginny, sweetie, do we have any chicken left?”
“Who for?”
“Artful. He’s broodin’ in the corner.”
‘Maybe he can brood a chicken and cook it himself,” Ginny sniped back. Tobias could tell she was tired and none too keen to prepare another meal right after closing time.
“Please?” Stu pleaded with a broad smile. “It’s Artful after all.”
“Hang on, you mean the Artful?” Tobias piped up, he wasn’t quite feeling so drowsy any more all of a sudden.
“The very same,” Stu answered. “You should join him, dry up near the fire.”
Tobias’s eyes had grown to the size of disks. He’d hoped he might be allowed to stay for a bit in the inn, but he’d never imagined he’d be sitting next to the one and only Artful who had managed to free someone from golly prison and lived to tell the tale.
“I’ll take care of these dishes,” Stu offered. “You go sit. Ginny, put some chicken aside for Egg too please.” he added with a chuckle, quite amused with his own little joke.
Relieved, Tobias sauntered his way out of the kitchen and into the main room. A merry fire was crackling in the corner and casted tall shadows on the wall. Aside from a lone figure sitting at a table near the hearth, the room was devoid of life.
“Excuse me,” Tobias said as he shuffled closer to the table. “Are you Artful? I mean, the Artful?” Though he was soft-spoken it was hard to miss the barely contained admiration in his voice.