And it is Sunday again.
The next morning
Eva shook her sister.
Wendy sat up and rubbed her eyes.
She had gotten upstairs again, after overhearing her parents talk, but she had not been able to sleep.
What had her father meant?
When she didn't get out of bed, Eva shook her arm again.
"Get up Wendy!" The little girl said. "The breakfast is ready."
Wendy nodded and got out of bed.
None of the others were still in bed. She was usually the first one up.
Were they going to notice?
She rubbed her eyes again and got dressed and went down to the dining hall with Eva.
The rest of the family was already sitting at the table.
"Are you alright, dearest?" Her mother asked Wendy, as she sat down and rubbed her eyes. "I cannot remember the last time you slept past this long."
Wendy nodded stiffly. "I just had a hard time falling asleep."
"But … you children were sent to bed early yesterday." Her grandmother said confused and lifted her mug to her mouth.
Wendy took a piece of bread and put it in her mouth to avoid answering.
She coughed when she swallowed the dry bread.
"Try not to eat too fast and have some water." Her father said and poured her water. "I have something you need to do today."
Wendy nearly drowned in the mug of water; that her father had just given her.
For the life of her, she could not think of what, her father wanted her to do.
Was it something unpleasant?
Her father cleared his throat.
"Because of … my leg I cannot ride a horse anymore." It really pained the proud hunter and innkeeper to say. "Until we have someone who can hunt for the family, we cannot have guests..."
"We could have some of the young men in the village hunt for us until Edward and David become of age." The grandmother said.
"We cannot rely on them for that long. It will take two years at least for Edward to even get old to even try hunting." Her son said. "We need to find a way to survive, at least until Edward is a bit older."
The air around the table was tense and uncomfortable.
Wendy felt Eva grabbing at her dress.
She put her hand over her little sister's.
The children understood clearly what was going on. If their father could not hunt, and the villagers did not continue to give them food, they could not survive, much less run the inn.
The grandmother put down her fork. "Then … what do you suppose we do then?"
The father sighed deeply and looked down at his plate.
David leaned forward in his chair, wanting to see what his father saw on the plate.
Edgar then looked over at his wife.
Mary did not say anything but got up and went to baby Arthur's clot standing in the corner.
He sighed again. "I am … going to … teach Wendy how to hunt."
He had barely gotten the words out when his mother slammed her hand onto the table.
"Wendy is a girl!" She said angrily. "And she is only 11 years old!"
Baby Arthur awoke from the noise and started crying.
His mother held him tightly and soothed him.
Edgar sighed again. "I know mother, I know … but this is the only choice we have. Edward is far too young to send into the forest alone, and there is no one else..."
The grandmother looked over at her daughter-in-law, but she avoided the older woman's eyes and rocked the baby in her arms.
She did not like the idea of letting Wendy use weapons or riding around in the forest all alone, but as her husband said, there was no other choice. And she would prefer not to think about it, more than she had to.
"But it is dangerous in the forest…" The grandmother said.
"I know," her son replied.
"And it will take a few months before she is ready to hunt."
The children looked from one to the other confused.
"As long as we get food for the winter, it will be fine." Their father responded firmly.
The grandmother sighed in defeat and glanced at the children's mother, who was still avoiding her eyes.
"Alright then." She said and slowly got from her chair. Her legs buckled slightly, as she stood. But she found her balance and looked down at her son. "Then make sure she is careful..."
Then the older woman walked into her bedroom and closed the door.
Wendy looked at the door, as the room became silent again.
She was not completely sure, what had made her kind grandmother so angry, but she could barely keep from smiling at the thought, that she was going to learn how to hunt.
A little while later
Edgar watched as his daughter skipped towards the targets with a bow.
He had always seen Wendy as a big child. Maybe it was because she towered over the younger children … but today she seemed very little.
His mother was right. She was still a small child and had he had any other option...
The little girl with long wavy hair turned to him with a big smile.
He limped closer leaning on the makeshift crutch to keep his balance.
He sat down on a stool, that Wendy had placed for him.
"Good," he said already exhausted. "Take an arrow from the quiver."
The little girl pulled an arrow out of the quiver, she had placed in the grass, in a swift motion, and placed it expertly on the bow.
The father rubbed his chin in amazement but didn't say a word.
Wendy let the arrow fly and it hit the target right in the middle of the target.
The little redhead turned to him with a big smile.
Her father didn't know what to do … what to say...
He knew that Wendy liked to play with the bows and arrows. But it had never crossed his mind that she would be good at it.
He smiled at the child.
They would have meat on the table sooner than he had thought. All he had to teach her now, was how to ride while doing it.
A few days later
Wendy pulled Daffodil towards the targets.
Her father was already sitting on the stool.
She leaned her head to one side in confusion.
She had already saddled up Daffodil. So why was her father sitting with a saddle in his lap?
As she came closer, he looked up at her and smiled.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Well, I was trying to fix Temper's saddle, but it needs a new strap for the stirrup." He put the saddle down. "But enough of that. Do you need help getting on?"
She nodded and pulled Daffodil closer to her father. When the horse was right beside her father, he folded his hands and boosted her up, so she could step into the stirrup and get in the saddle.
Daffodil neighed, as Wendy pulled on the reins, and went around in a circle, stopping in front of her father again.
Her father handed her the quiver and the bow.
"I want you to lead her two times around the target and then shoot." He instructed.
The girl nodded and steered the horse towards the target.
Her father watched her carefully.
Wendy's hair was tied in a ponytail, but it flew around her and obstructed her eyes, as she circled the horse around the target.
She stopped Daffodil a few meters from the target and shook the hair away from her eyes.
As she reached into the quiver for an arrow, the wind lifted up her skirts.
Her father looked away out of habit. They would have to do something about her clothes.
She placed the arrow on the bow, but the flying arrow spooked the horse and it started to buck and kick under her.
Edgar stared at the horse in disbelief, as it attempted to throw off his daughter.
Wendy franticly held on to the saddle, as both her hair and the reins flew around her.
She was scared to let go of the saddle and reach for the rein. But the image of her father lying in the forest after being thrown from Temper, made her take the chance.
She grabbed the reins with one hand first and then the other.
She pulled at the reins, as the horse continued to kick.
It felt like forever, but the horse calmed down.
She quickly jumped off the horse.
She breathed deeply, as she stared at her father.
He opened up his arms, and she let the horse be and ran to him.
Edgar closed his arms around her, as Wendy continued to take deep breaths.
"What happened?" Edward yelled from the kitchen door.
"Take Daffodil to the stable and take her saddle off." Their father yelled back.
He patted Wendy's back, who still didn't cry but gulped for air.
Daffodil was a working horse, usually, she pulled a wagon with another horse, or if someone needed to borrow a horse or something. She had never been used for hunting before.
He looked at the saddle still lying at his feet.
He had to repair that anyhow.
Temper was the only horse who had used to hunt.
About a week later
Wendy gripped her mother's hand tightly, as they made their way toward the village.
Her mother smiled down at her.
Wendy tried to hold her basket on her bent arm as her mother did, but she could not balance it.
"Be careful," her mother reminded gently. "We cannot give the jam to the villagers if you spill it."
Wendy nodded.
David and Eva had been picking wild berries for the last few days, that their mother had made into jam as a thank you to the villagers for helping them.
She had insisted on Wendy coming along because she needed some new clothes.
They went from one house to the next, giving the smiling women glasses of colorful jam.
After both, their baskets were almost empty, they headed toward the weaver's house.
They were welcomed inside by Mina, who smiled at the glasses of jam in their baskets.
"Here," her mother said and handed the young woman a glass.
"Thank you," she said and let them into her father's workspace.
"Mina? What is it?" The older man said and looked up from his work.
He broke into a warm smile. "Good day Mrs. Mary and little Wendy. What can I do for the two of you?"
"They brought us jam, father." Mina smiled. She walked to her father and kissed him on the cheek.
The older man smiled even brighter. "Oh, the joy. Mary, you truly know how to make the most delicious jam."
Wendy looked confused up at her mother, who blush and giggled.
Were they not there to get some new clothes?
"We need your help." Her mother finally said and reached into her basket and pulled out a shirt and a pair of pants.
"Oh..." The weaver said and took the clothes. "What needs to be done?" He asked as he looked at them.
"They need to be taken in." Her mother said in a quiet voice.
"For Edward?"
"For Wendy."
The older man looked the little girl up and down as if to figure out, why she needed a pair of pants … and a shirt.
His daughter opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her.
"Come here, Wendy." He said with a warm smile.
Wendy stepped closer. She wasn't scared of the weaver; he often came to the inn and had often repaired their clothes for a meal during the winter.
He unfolded the shirt and held it up in front of her.
It was quite a bit bigger than her.
He looked her up and down again with concern.
"I need you to take your clothes … Mina, would you help her?" He said and pulled out a needle pad full of needles.
The young woman seemed like she wanted to say something but could not find the words. She helped Wendy untie her shirt and pulled the dress over her head.
The weaver then pulled the shirt inside out and put it on the little girl.
It looked like a long dress on Wendy.
"Now … I need you to stand still, I do not wish to prick you." He said and held up a needle.
Despite his age, the weaver worked quickly and within an hour or two, he had put hundreds of needles in both the shirt and pants, until they fit Wendy.
"They should be ready in about a week's time…" the weaver said, as Mina helped Wendy get dressed.
"About the payment..." Her mother said nervously, as Wendy tied her skirt.
The weaver still smiled and looked at the baskets standing on the floor.
"How much jam do you have left?"
Wendy's mother looked down at the baskets, then up at him again.
"But, Elliot..."
The old man held up a hand to stop her.
"Mary … when my dear wife passed away, you and Edgar helped me more than you could even imagine … Now when you need my help. I gladly give it."
Wendy chewed on her lip, as they walked home.
The sun was starting to lower.
She looked up at her mother, who stared straight ahead.
"Are you angry with me?" She asked.
Her mother almost stumbled over her own feet.
She looked down at her daughter and smiled a bit stiffly. "No, my sweet."
"Are you angry at the weaver then?"
The woman was taken aback by the question but then understood.
She knelt down to be at her daughter's eye level.
"My little one, these times is a bit difficult for me. But do not worry, it will all be fine."
Wendy turned her mother's now warm smile.
She skipped up the rest of the hill.
When She came closer to the kitchen door Eva came running towards them.
Wendy laughed and let the basket fall, as her little sister came flying toward her.
She picked up the little girl and swung her around.
Mary watched her daughters with a smile on her lips. But then … it fell. She could not help but think that Wendy was losing something...
A week later
Wendy sent an arrow flying and it hit the target in the center.
David ran towards it and pulled the arrow out then ran to the side again.
Wendy took two steps back and reached into the quiver for another arrow.
When it hit the target, David pulled it out again.
Their father was watching them from a distance.
Wendy was getting better and better. She was already standing quite a distance from the target.
"Edgar!" Someone called out.
Wendy jumped and the arrow, she sent off hit outside the center of the target.
Edgar looked down the hill to see the son of the village's smith coming with Temper's saddle.
When he reached them, he handed their father the saddle.
"Good as new. Father replaced the stirrup, and I fixed the leather strap." He said.
"Thank you." The innkeeper said.
The young man nodded and looked towards the children, who had continued the exercise uninterrupted.
"Oh, to have the time to play again, huh." He smiled.
The innkeeper looked at him a bit but then nodded and smiled.
"I wish, they could stay this way some more..."
The young man patted him on the shoulder. "But then again, you would not get food on the table, if Edward and David do not grow up."
After the smith's son had left, Edgar looked down on the saddle. It was good as new.
"Wendy!" He called as she had just shot an arrow.
She turned around.
He held up the saddle. "Go and saddle up Temper."
Two weeks later
"Mary? What are you doing?"
The mother turned away from the window toward her mother-in-law, but the children continued to watch.
"We are watching Wendy." She said a little hesitant.
"What is she doing, that keeps the entire house from their chores? Guests could arrive at any moment..."
The grandmother's voice died down, as she reached the window.
Wendy felt a rush, as Temper set into a gallop.
She reached into the quiver, as Temper rounded the target, and sent the arrow off with ease.
It hit the mark.
She smiled and circled the target at a larger distance and repeated the motion.
It still hit its mark.
She pulled at the reins to make Temper stop and smiled down at her father.
"What do you think?"
He chuckled and stomped his cane on the ground. "You are far better than I was at your age."
Wendy seemed to grow taller at the compliment.
"I think you should go hunting tomorrow." He said.
Wendy's eyes widen.
She glided down the side of the horse and pulled it by the reins towards her father.
"You think I am ready?" She asked both excited and nervous.
Her father was silent for a moment choosing his words.
"I do not expect you to bring home a lot, or anything, at first. But it will be good practice to riding in the forest."
Wendy looked to the ground, then up at him again. "Will you come with me?"
Her father smiled. There was a sad tint to that smile. Then he hit his crutch against the ground. "I sadly cannot do that. You will have to go alone … But I insist that you do not go far into the forest."
Wendy smiled sadly. She had not meant to remind him.
They then heard the familiar sound of hooves hitting the ground.
"Well..." Her father said and got up. He wobbled slightly, but he had gotten quite good at walking with his crutch. "Seems like you should get ready to help your mother."
Wendy nodded and pulled Temper towards the stables.
"At least we still have some of the meat Jacob came with a few days ago..." She heard her father say, as he hobbled towards the kitchen door.
The next day
Wendy got up at dawn.
She sighed in relief, that she had woken up early.
A few guests had come in the evening and her mother would need help with breakfast.
She gently pulled her arm out of Eva's grip and got out of bed.
Then she tied her skirt and apron and quickly made her way down the stairs.
Her mother was already in the kitchen.
"Hello, my sweet." She smiled at the girl, as she put the kettle into the fire. "Could you go get the eggs? The tea should be ready soon."
Wendy put on her shawl and stepped outside.
The morning went on like usual. The guests enjoyed the breakfast and giggled at the children, as they served them food and drink, and left happy after breakfast and a bath.
The mother sighed smiling and sat down on the chair and smiled down at the baby in her arms. "It is nice to have things back to normal."
She leaned over little Arthur, and the baby grabbed at her nose.
Her husband laughed. "Well, the guests are going to start coming again now, so we cannot relax at the moment."
The mother looked up at the children, who had told them to sit, while they cleaned up after breakfast.
"I hope the hall will be full again soon. It is better when the inn is filled with life." She said.
"Yes … and it will be again soon, my love."
Her husband struggled a bit to get up but balanced on his crutch.
"Wendy!" He called. The girl stopped and looked at him curiously. "Go get your hunting clothes."
The girl lit up with a smile and went upstairs.
Wendy fidgeted on the chair, as her mother knitted her hair together in a tight braid.
Her mother smiled for a moment and tied the braid with a hair tie.
As soon as her mother let go of her hair, Wendy jumped down from the chair and ran out the door towards the stable.
In the stable Temper was already saddled up and Edward was waiting for her.
She stepped onto the stool standing by temper's side and put her foot in the stirrup.
Edward watched intently, as she swung her leg over the horse, sat up straight in the saddle, and took hold of the reins.
She smiled triumphantly at her little brother and guided Temper out of the stable.
Wendy led the horse around the inn and stopped at the kitchen door, where her father was waiting for her.
He smiled at her proudly and reached up to her with a quiver.
Wendy took the quiver and pulled it over her head.
Then he handed her the bow.
"Remember," he said. "You do not have to come home with anything..."
Wendy smiled at him but did not say anything.
"And when you see the sun lowering in the sky head back home right away." He continued.
"I will." his daughter smiled, kicked at her horse, and headed towards the forest.
"And do not go too far into the forest..." he called after her.
Wendy smiled to herself but did not react to her father's words.
So ... that was it for today.
Let me know what you guys think.