CHAPTER 13
Brygida bristled against Mama’s grip, dragging her feet in the mud and scattered clover, latching onto the door frame of the cottage as Mama pulled her inside. Her shoes slid along the oaken floorboards.
Everyone had made their decision about Kaspian, but they were wrong. In the look of his eye, the whisper of his voice, the touch of his wrist, she’d felt it. The kindness of his spirit. As sure as the beauty of a poppy or the brightness of a sunflower.
Mama slammed the door shut, making Mamusia flinch behind the loom. With a soft glance of her grass-green eyes, Mama nodded apologetically, waiting until Mamusia offered her an accepting smile and returned to humming at her work.
Then Mama turned her newly infuriated gaze upon Brygida, eyes wide beneath drawn eyebrows.
“What a
