Rene draped his apron over one of the ale barrels and sat down on a log to rest. He had been carrying sacks and crates into the kitchen for nearly three hours. The kitchen was small enough as it was, and with the extra provisions, there was hardly any room for him to move at all. He wondered for the hundredth time why his father insisted on moving so much into the building. The coldest weather was long gone. No, there must be another reason for this work.
Rene stood and hefted another sack of flour onto his shoulder. He pushed the back door open with his foot and dropped the sack into the corner atop the others. As he started to walk out the door once more, however, the conversation from the bar drew him back in. He slipped quietly through the kitchen and stood near the doorway to the bar
