Elwada, deep in a dream about cheese and ripe cherries, was startled awake with a sharp kick in her side.

“Get up you lazy witch. Sun’s up and there’s work to do.”

She stretched and turned toward the voice yelling at her, noting the heavy boot next to her head. It was her father. Of course it was her father. Such a kind man, she thought wryly, jumping up from her mat by the hearth and pulling down her shift as she reached for the coarse skirt and top she had thrown on the floor last night, too exhausted to even hang them on a peg. She took note of her father’s back as he headed out the door and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Witch indeed,” she muttered, grabbing a hunk of stale bread from the table as she hurried after him. The sun was barely up, but he already had the poor old nag hitched to the cart and was loading it with cabbages. Elwada, tying her hair back with a length of leather strap, walked toward the pile of cabbages, grabbed a couple and took them over to be stashed in the cart.

“Just cabbages is it, da?”

He glared at her. He always glared at her. “Ye got any other stuff to sell? ‘Cause what I see is cabbages.”

Her father said not another word to her, and together they had the cart loaded with the cabbages by the time the sun was fully up. The old cart was looking the worse for wear, the wood slats on the side needing attention, and the wheels, nothing more than rounds from one of the pines cut down years ago, were well worn and wobbly. Elwada sighed and pulled herself onto the back thinking to herself that the cabbages were more company than her grumpy father. Her bare feet barely cleared the ground nowadays. She wasn’t sure, but she guessed she must be about fifteen years old.

They pulled out onto the narrow track that went along the river and headed into the village. Market day was always the fourth day after the Sabbath, and at least she would have a chance for some gossip and if her father’s mood improved he might fetch her a glass of ale from the tavern and a sausage. She was sick to death of cabbage soup.

The square was already busy with people backing their carts into the circle that formed the border of the market. Several of their neighbors called out a greeting, and Elwada smiled and waved. Market days were their only real chance to visit with friends and other families; most of the time it was just her and her father, her mother gone now for years, buried along with the wee baby she had wanted so badly. Elwada shook off the dark thoughts and shook out her skirts, climbing down from the cart and stacking the cabbages in a welcoming display. She glanced around and noted that several other carts held cabbages but none as large and perfectly formed as those her father grew.

“Stay here, girl,” her father said, handing her the clay jar with the few coins for change. “I’ll be back in a bit. Make sure ye get the best price, hear?”

She nodded and leaned against the end of the cart, looking around to see if her friend Adena was here. She didn’t see her or her family, so she climbed back up on the end of the cart and began calling out, “Fresh cabbages! Best of the season! None better!”

The sun was creeping toward midday when the man approached her cart. Elwada took note of him; it was not often that a man, a young one at that with a fine tall body and eyes as blue as the sky above, came to her cart. Mostly it was distracted housewives or gossipy old women buying cabbages and looking for a bargain. Elwada straightened her spine.

“Interested in cabbages, sir?” She grinned and he grinned back.

“Not so much the cabbages as the pretty seller,” he replied. “But I will take two of the those biggest in the back if ye will give me a bit of your time.”

“Ah, but me da says time comes with a price same as cabbages.”

He laughed and his eyes twinkled. “Well then. I will pay double for the cabbages if I can get the vegetables with a bit of talking time with a sassy girl.”

“Ooh. Double it is and what do ye wish to talk about? Ye face is not known to me and I know everyone hereabout. Are ye then a stranger come to town or just passing through?”

He ignored her question. “Has the sassy cabbage seller a name?”

“Might be,” Elwada said. “But if we get too familiar the cabbages with cost you thrice.”

He threw back his head and laughed so loud the couple in the next cart turned their heads to see what was going on. Elwada, afraid her father would come back soon and see her flirting with this man, stood up and went to the back of the cart, picking out two of the finest cabbages she could find and returned to the man.

“My name is Elwada,” she said quietly. “Now quick, tell me yours and pay up as my da will be heading back from the tavern shortly and he will beat me blue if he sees me and thinks I am being too forward.”

“I go by Jamie,” the man said, staring at her. “I mean ye no harm, cabbage girl; just a bit of fun and maybe a new friend, eh?”

Elwada nodded. “So are we then to be friends?”

Jamie looked at her for a long moment. “I believe so. I work with the baker, here to learn the trade. If ye have need for bread or such, come find me.”

They grinned at each other and then Elwada saw her father bearing down on her carrying a cup of ale. She hurriedly handed the cabbages to Jamie. “That will be three pence and the talk was free seeing as we are friends,” she said.

He pulled the pennies from his pocket and handed them to her just as her father reached the cart.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jamie said, very serious now as he turned to her father. “And you, sir, grow wondrous vegetables and wondrous other things, I be sure.” Quick as a cat he looked at Elwada and gave her a wink.

Then he was gone, striding through the marketplace juggling his cabbages and heading in the direction of the bakery.

“Did ye get the money for those cabbages?” Her da handed her the cup of ale and checked out the cart.. “Looks like ye had a good morning.”

“Aye. A good morning,” Elwada replied, sipping her ale, still staring at the backside of Jamie as he went out of her sight. “A very good morning indeed.”