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“Ten days for the shingles,” Rufus said. “Framing inside the month. You’ll sleep under your own roof by first snow, and if you don’t, every soul here can call me a liar.”

“Noted,” said Melissant, not writing this down either.

I thanked him twice. The grannies whispered something I didn’t catch, and they laughed.

I was going to live at Goran’s. With Goran when he wasn’t in the hayloft, that is. I’d sit at his kitchen table. I’d try to keep my mouth from dropping as he worked in the fields, his forearms straining. His back straining. His chest…

It would be best not to think too much about his chest.

I was going to sleep in Goran’s bed.

Oh, my.

My face overheated.

Ginger purred and kneaded my knees until her claws pricked.

Ah, yes, she said. Perfect.

“What did you do?” I whispered.

Nothing, said Ginger. Yet.

CHAPTER FOUR

RAIN

Goran was going to come for me to take me to his home in his wagon in two days, and I’d been packing since the morning after the storm.

As I stepped outside to take a breath of fresh air, a sprite tried to charge me rent on my own gutter.

Everyone said I should’ve moved out there the day he’d offered. I’d waited, telling myself I had packing to do. I needed to make sure I’d tucked away everything I could to keep it from getting wet if it rained. That I had a decent place to stay—a spot on a friend’s floor, but decent with the right blanket.

Now the sprite stood on the downspout with its pointy nose in the air while I swept the stoop. As if sweeping a stoop would matter much when the place had no roof.

Behind the sprite, three more had built a nest out of stolen jewelry, a doll’s quilt, and a cluster of my hair ribbons, all stolen from my home above the shop or the Healing House. Thieves, the entire lot of them.

I pointed at the ribbons. “They’re mine. The quilt too.” I wasn’t sure about the jewelry. It was too far away to see.

The tallest sprite pointed back at me. That settled it, I guessed, under sprite law.

It squeaked a swear and pulled the nest closer.

Let me up there, Ginger said from the doorway. Her tail moved in quick, agitated sweeps. Thirty seconds. I’ll bring you the ribbons, the quilt, the jewelry, and even their tiny flag.

A flag they’d made from a stolen knife and a scrap of fabric.

“You’ll bring me a war,” I said. “Go inside, please.”

Half of my shop was filled with boxes. I’d spent all of yesterday and well into the night packing.

The tea would stay here, and so would the kettles. Bellflower & Brew would keep its hours even with its keeper sleeping three miles east.

Everything upstairs that the storm hadn’t ruined sat in crates. Some would remain here until I had a new roof, but the rest would travel east on Goran’s wagon. My winter dresses. Mama’s second-best teapot. The bowl of river stones, wrapped in a dishcloth and packed at the bottom of a crate. If anyone asked, it was for weight.

Nobody asked. Everybody knew. The Hollow had spent yesterday delivering casseroles and talking about me the second my door swung shut after the meeting. The tea witch’s daughter moving to the ogre’s farm had added a nice twist to their gossip.

Late morning, the bell rang out, and Goran entered the shop sideways.