fading from the sky.
Pip never should have stopped to skate. She should have found food and gone straight home. Butit had been so wonderful to glide and twirl across the pond, to whip around at the end of a long chain, happy and carefree like the tail of a kite.
To forget, even for an hour.
Pip had been having so much fun she hadn’t realized the time. Now she was late. Mama would be worried.
And all Pip had found for dinner were a few seeds and a small piece of corncob.
She started up the hill in front of her. The thin layer of ice covering the snow made the going treacherous. Suddenly Pip slipped and banged her head. Tears rushed to her eyes.
Oh, where was Papa? she thought, as she struggled to her feet. Why didn’t he come home? Three days hadbecome eight, and there was still no word from him.
And where was Will? Why wasn’t he helping her?
He was the oldest. And the bravest.
At least he used to be brave. But not anymore.
Not since his trip to the house perched at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the woods. Land’s End, it was called. Will had gone there with Uncle Hank last fall.
When he came back, he was changed.
He dragged his wounded leg behind him. He jumped every time he heard a loud noise. Will, the family joker, no longer laughed.
And Uncle Hank was dead.
Pip gave herself an angry shake. What would Uncle Hank have said if he had seen her standing here, crying? What about her promise to Papa?
Pip struggled on.
The sleet-covered snow made the going treacherous. For every two steps she took forward, she slid one step back. Oh, why didn’t you bring your walking stick? she scolded herself fiercely. You’ll never get home at this rate. The thought brought a sob to her throat.
Then miraculously, through the gloom, Pip spotted a patch of bright green against the white. It was the tip of a Christmas fern, poking its head through the ice. Pip grabbed it and pulled herself forward.
There was another fern, and another.
Slowly she inched her way to the top of the slippery bank. A small, round window nestled in the roots of a tree was straight ahead. It was lit by a single candle.
Home.
Pip’s heart soared as she ran toward it. She could hardly wait to get inside. She’d throw herself into her mother’s arms and ask the questions that had been running through her mind all week. Where’s Papa? Why doesn’t he come back?
What if he’s dead, like Uncle Hank?
Mama would tell her not to be silly. She’d say nothing would ever happen to Papa. That he’d be home tomorrow, for sure. They would feast on barley soup and hot corn fritters.
Everything would be all right.
The comforting warmth of home wafted over Pip’s face as she opened the front door. She heard her mother’s anxious voice.
“Where have you been, Pip?” she called. “I’ve been worried sick.”
And Pip knew that everything wasn’t all right, after all.
“Sorry, Mama!”
Pip hung her wet scarf on a peg beside the door and curved her mouth into a smile. Then she closed the door and shut out the night.
chapter 3
“I’m Still Hungry”
I ’m still hungry,” said Nibs.
“Me, too,” said Nan.
“Here. Have mine.” Pip pushed her plate across the table. “I’ve had enough,” she lied.
Next to them, Will was eating with his head down. Kit was busy licking his plate.
Finny pounded her cup on her high chair. “More! More!” she squealed.
Her sweet face was so indignant Pip had to laugh.
“Now, you hush.” Mama came out from the kitchen and stood wiping her paws on her apron as she looked around the table. “That’s all the food there is. You should be grateful for it.”
“I know where there’s more,” Kit said in a low voice.
“Kit…” Mama said quietly.
“I do,” he insisted. “And I’m not afraid to go there.”
“That’s enough!”
Mama’s sharp voice echoed around the room like a shot. Nan and Nibs froze. Kit lowered his plate silently to the table. Only Will kept eating, bowing his
Pip never should have stopped to skate. She should have found food and gone straight home. Butit had been so wonderful to glide and twirl across the pond, to whip around at the end of a long chain, happy and carefree like the tail of a kite.
To forget, even for an hour.
Pip had been having so much fun she hadn’t realized the time. Now she was late. Mama would be worried.
And all Pip had found for dinner were a few seeds and a small piece of corncob.
She started up the hill in front of her. The thin layer of ice covering the snow made the going treacherous. Suddenly Pip slipped and banged her head. Tears rushed to her eyes.
Oh, where was Papa? she thought, as she struggled to her feet. Why didn’t he come home? Three days hadbecome eight, and there was still no word from him.
And where was Will? Why wasn’t he helping her?
He was the oldest. And the bravest.
At least he used to be brave. But not anymore.
Not since his trip to the house perched at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the woods. Land’s End, it was called. Will had gone there with Uncle Hank last fall.
When he came back, he was changed.
He dragged his wounded leg behind him. He jumped every time he heard a loud noise. Will, the family joker, no longer laughed.
And Uncle Hank was dead.
Pip gave herself an angry shake. What would Uncle Hank have said if he had seen her standing here, crying? What about her promise to Papa?
Pip struggled on.
The sleet-covered snow made the going treacherous. For every two steps she took forward, she slid one step back. Oh, why didn’t you bring your walking stick? she scolded herself fiercely. You’ll never get home at this rate. The thought brought a sob to her throat.
Then miraculously, through the gloom, Pip spotted a patch of bright green against the white. It was the tip of a Christmas fern, poking its head through the ice. Pip grabbed it and pulled herself forward.
There was another fern, and another.
Slowly she inched her way to the top of the slippery bank. A small, round window nestled in the roots of a tree was straight ahead. It was lit by a single candle.
Home.
Pip’s heart soared as she ran toward it. She could hardly wait to get inside. She’d throw herself into her mother’s arms and ask the questions that had been running through her mind all week. Where’s Papa? Why doesn’t he come back?
What if he’s dead, like Uncle Hank?
Mama would tell her not to be silly. She’d say nothing would ever happen to Papa. That he’d be home tomorrow, for sure. They would feast on barley soup and hot corn fritters.
Everything would be all right.
The comforting warmth of home wafted over Pip’s face as she opened the front door. She heard her mother’s anxious voice.
“Where have you been, Pip?” she called. “I’ve been worried sick.”
And Pip knew that everything wasn’t all right, after all.
“Sorry, Mama!”
Pip hung her wet scarf on a peg beside the door and curved her mouth into a smile. Then she closed the door and shut out the night.
chapter 3
“I’m Still Hungry”
I ’m still hungry,” said Nibs.
“Me, too,” said Nan.
“Here. Have mine.” Pip pushed her plate across the table. “I’ve had enough,” she lied.
Next to them, Will was eating with his head down. Kit was busy licking his plate.
Finny pounded her cup on her high chair. “More! More!” she squealed.
Her sweet face was so indignant Pip had to laugh.
“Now, you hush.” Mama came out from the kitchen and stood wiping her paws on her apron as she looked around the table. “That’s all the food there is. You should be grateful for it.”
“I know where there’s more,” Kit said in a low voice.
“Kit…” Mama said quietly.
“I do,” he insisted. “And I’m not afraid to go there.”
“That’s enough!”
Mama’s sharp voice echoed around the room like a shot. Nan and Nibs froze. Kit lowered his plate silently to the table. Only Will kept eating, bowing his
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