Frost by Kate Avery Ellison Read Free Book Online Page B

shake. “And I’m really tired. The storm kept me awake last night.”
    Ann bit her lip, sympathy flashing in her eyes. “You’ve always hated the storms, haven’t you?”
    Cole, who’d been listening quietly from a few feet away, stepped over and inserted himself into the conversation. “I have a hard time believing you’re afraid of anything, Lia.”
    His smile was wide and sly, like he was paying me a compliment, but I felt only intense irritation. How little he knew me, if he thought that. I was afraid of everything. I had to be, if I wanted my family to survive to the next winter. And sometimes it seemed like I was the only one who worried about these things.
    Right now I wanted to be left alone so I could think about them in peace.
    Cole saw my expression. His smile faded. Ann saw, and rushed to salvage the mood. She followed me down the aisle toward the door, Cole at her side. “Are you coming to the social?”
    She didn’t look at Cole when she asked, and I had the sudden suspicion that this conversation had been planned between them.
    “I don’t know,” I said, brusque. “I can’t promise anything.” I loved her, of course, but at the moment I wanted to be rid of her so I could go home and make sure Ivy and Jonn were alive and well, and the Farther was undiscovered.
    “Come on,” Ann coaxed, not noticing my impatience or maybe just ignoring it. “There’s going to be sweets, and music, and dancing...more fun than we’ve had in months. Surely you don’t want to miss it.”
    “I won’t have anything to wear,” I said, both because it was a good excuse and because it was true. Speaking of my poverty usually shut people up.
    But Ann was undeterred this time. “Borrow something of mine. We’re the same size.”
    “Come on, Lia,” Cole said.
    “All right,” I said, just so they would leave me alone.
    Ann beamed. She hugged me, releasing me abruptly when her father called her name. “I have to go—those pillows won’t make themselves.”
    Cole and I were left standing together, watching her saunter off arm in arm with her father. A tiny flicker of exhausted resentment rose in my chest—how was it that her quota involved cross-stitching on decorative pillows, and mine involved hours of spinning yarn?
    Cole shuffled his feet and fiddled with his hands. The sly smile crossed his face, but he schooled it into a serious expression. “Lia…”
    I looked toward the paths to the farms, anxiety gnawing at me again.
    “About the social,” he said, and then stopped. “Maybe it’s painfully obvious, but...”
    Pain . That reminded me. “I need to visit the market,” I said.
    He paused. “I’ll accompany you.”
    We walked swiftly, me because I was worried about Ivy and Jonn and the farm, him because he was trying to keep up with me. I spotted the woman I needed—old Tamma Gatherer, with her bags of dried herbs and roots. She sold the extras in the market after making her quota every week.
    “What herbs would you suggest for a deep wound that might become infected?” I asked when I reached the stall, my voice barely above a whisper. I wished Cole would go away, but he lingered within hearing distance. I silently willed him to not listen, or not ask me questions.
    Tamma pursed her lips. “Blood’s bane, for the wound, and fever root for the sickness that will come from the infection.”
    I took the herbs from her outstretched hand. They rustled in my hand as I slid them into my pocket. I withdrew a small bundle of yarn from my other pocket and slipped it to her. My insides ached—that could have gone toward our quota—but the Farther needed medicine if he was going to survive another night.
    “One of your horses injured?” she asked, her eyebrow lifting shrewdly. “The cow?”
    I flushed. “No.” I turned and left before she could ask any more questions. As I walked away, I berated myself for acting so suspicious. I should have chatted, perhaps suggested something that would have