The Girl with the Red Ribbon Read Online Free

The Girl with the Red Ribbon
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welcome. Perhaps I’d better cook something special for dinner.’
    ‘What did you have in mind?’ Sab asked, licking his lips.
    ‘I was looking through Mother’s cookbook the other day and found a receipt for chicken and ham pie. I know it’s a bit extravagant, but we’ve got some of the chicken left from the roast and there was gammon in the settle, which I’ve put to soak. Not that I’ve attempted pie crust before, but I could at least try something different in her honour, couldn’t I?’ she asked.
    ‘You’re a kind girl, Rowan, and pie – well, that would be a feast for a king.’ He rubbed his stomach appreciatively. ‘And if there were baked potatoes, too …’ he added, looking hopeful.
    ‘I think we might still have a few potatoes in the sack,’ she replied, frowning as she remembered how quickly their winter crop store was dwindling. ‘Well, I’d better get back and start preparing it all. I’ve a feeling it’s going to
take some time but at least I’ll have made the effort for Father. It’ll mean relighting the bread oven, though,’ she said, gathering up the remains of their impromptu picnic.
    ‘And I’d better get back to the hedging before Uncle Ted reappears. Do you want me to tell him what’s in store for dinner?’ he asked.
    ‘No,’ Rowan said. ‘Let’s keep it as a surprise. I think we still have some cider left, so perhaps you could bring in a flagon when you come? We’ll make it a welcome party for Fanny.’
    ‘I just hope she appreciates all the trouble you’re going to. You’ll be needing more faggots for the fire so I’ll bring some in with me as well,’ Sab offered, smiling.
    As they went their separate way, neither of them noticed Fanny watching from her bedroom window.

CHAPTER 3
    Back at the farmhouse, Rowan found the kitchen empty, apart from the remains of Fanny’s meal strewn across the table. As she kicked off her boots she saw, to her dismay, that her stepmother had cut the tops off the remaining loaves and eaten those, leaving behind the charred bottoms. All her hard work had been wasted, she thought, anger rising in her chest. She had a good mind to go and have it out with the woman. Then she remembered she’d promised her father she’d try to make her stepmother feel welcome. Swallowing down her disappointment and deciding she would soak the remaining crusts in warm milk sprinkled with salt and turn them into brewis for their breakfast, she carried the remaining crusts through to the pantry.
    Taking down the receipt book from the dresser, she settled herself on the floor beside the fire and turned to the relevant page. As always, the sight of her mother’s beautiful flowing writing brought a lump to her throat, and the fact that the receipt for the chicken pie was the last entry made it more poignant. Stroking the ribbon around her wrist, she forced herself to concentrate on the instructions. Although the list of instructions was long, each stage seemed straightforward so Rowan was feeling confident as she stacked the bread oven with the
remaining faggots. Then, having set fire to them, she lined up all the ingredients along the table.
    The preparations took Rowan the rest of the afternoon, but to her immense satisfaction she managed to form the pie crust, fill it with the meats and pour in stock without it leaking. Finally, sealing it with its pastry lid, she stood back and admired what, to her, looked like a very passable effort indeed. With the shadows lengthening, she lit the candles and put another log on the fire. Then, after raking out the ashes from the oven for the second time that day, she placed her pie carefully inside, adding a few potatoes to bake at the same time. Magic tangled herself around her feet and, laughing at her antics, Rowan settled herself on the floor beside the fire, stroking her soft black fur.
    After a while, her eyes grew heavy. Shaking herself, she jumped to her feet and began clearing away. Soon the aroma of cooking
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