Tina wiped
the dishes with a cloth from her belt. She gazed over the wooden sink and
through the new window panes at the muddy street in front of her. She wiped her
hands on her apron covering her wool skirts.

“Tina! Get
in here! We have customers!” yelled her mother from the common room.

Tina paused
and quickly dumped the rest of the wooden spoons and plates into the sink and
tucked the towel back into her belt. On her way outs she grabbed a sprig of
honeysuckle from the clay vase on the table and tucked it under her ear. She
quickly walked through the tavern doors and into the room.

Most of the patrons from the town
and from the neighboring towns were seated at wooden tables with benches. There
was a large fireplace in the corner with a roaring fire. It was burning bright
and lit the room in gorgeous orange light. It was very warm and sweet. A local
minstrel was in the corner playing a harpsichord and from the sound of the
stomping feet and laughter, he was telling a great old tale. Tina quickly
walked from table to table asking for people’s orders and re-filling the steins
to keep the ale going. She paused at the counter of the bar and ran her fingers
over the old oak wood and one of the tall bar stools that she used to play in
and pretend that she’d been captured and locked away inside the wooden legs of
the stool as she watched all the giant adults laughing around her.

A gust of wind caught Tina’s wool
skirt as snow drifted into the large oak doors as they swung open. Tina turned
and looked over, ready to smile at a familiar neighbor or friendly visitor.
Tina was holding a stein in one hand and her fingers went instinctively to a
lock of blonde hair to pull it back and around her ears. She stopped mid
gesture for standing in the doorway was one of the hardest men she had ever
seen. He just pulling a cloak from his head and shaking out his hair. He turned
and his eyes quickly scanned the room. Most of the people had now taken notice
of him and all chatter and laughter had stopped. Just as quickly as he had
surveyed the room, he held the door open and stepped aside to admit a small
woman with a long blue velvet cloak pulled over her head. She glided through the
door and he quickly shut it and stamped his feet. She came forward pulling her
cloak a little from her face but keeping her eyes in shadows. Tina’s father
stepped forward and spoke gently and quietly with both of them. Tina could not
hear what her father said and the minstrel struck another chord, this time with
a small wooden guitar and everyone went back to their chatter and music.
Strangers were uncommon this time of year but not unusual. Tina couldn’t take
her eyes from the woman as the couple eased themselves into the small wooden
seats in the far corner of the room. In fact, it was Tina’s favorite nook. You
could survey the whole room and enjoy and appreciate the warmth and joviality
but still be calm and by yourself.