The Claim (11 page)

“Careful, Jane,” Sally murmured in a low voice. “You wouldn’t want tea stains on your new frock. It is a new frock, isn’t it? And my, what an unusual style. I believe I saw our maid wearing something like it. Is that a napkin sewn to the cuff? How clever.”

The ladies walked back over to us.

“Now, what were you two discussing?” Mrs. Hosmer asked eagerly.

“Fashion,” Sally said.

“You’ll have to have Jane make you a dress!” Mrs. Woodley said. “Our Jane’s a marvel with a needle and thread. Why, she sewed the dress I’m wearing! Mr. Woodley thinks it’s one of the nicest gowns I’ve ever owned. He says it complements my figure.”

I shot Sally a triumphant look. The tables had turned. She was on
my
territory now!

“Do you remember when I won the embroidery contest at Miss Hepplewhite’s?” I asked.

Sally returned my challenging stare. “How could I forget?”

Mrs. Staroselsky, who seemed vastly relieved by the fact that her baby was finally dozing off, asked, “Where is Mrs. Frink, Jane?”

“I’m afraid she wasn’t feeling well. Which reminds me, I was thinking it might be nice to invite Cocumb to join us next time.”

“Cocumb? What an unusual name. Is she French?” Sally asked.

“No,” I said. “She’s Chinook.”

Sally’s eyes widened in surprise. “She’s an Indian?”

“And she’s a very dear friend of mine,” I said. I was not about to let Sally Biddle of all people besmirch Cocumb’s character.

There was a moment’s silence, and then Sally uttered in a sympathetic voice, “Why, that’s terribly brave of you, Jane.”

“Brave? There’s nothing to be brave about,” I said a little too loudly. My voice seemed to bounce off the walls of the cabin.

The other ladies looked between us.

Sally took a careful sip of tea and said in an offhand way, “It’s just all the news back east.”

“What news?” Mrs. Hosmer asked.

“About the sickness, of course,” Sally began delicately. “The news sheets are full of the accounts. Pioneers on the trail catching cholera and other horrible diseases from Indians. Whole families have died. It’s tragic. Children are apparently the most susceptible.”

Mrs. Staroselsky’s gaze flicked over to the quiet cradle, and the cabin seemed to hum with fear.

“Physicians are recommending limiting contact if possible.” Sally paused deliberately, turning to me. “I seem to recall hearing your father mentioning something similar.”

I stared at her. That had been Papa’s opinion. He never let me near patients who had cholera or smallpox.

“Jane,” Mrs. Hosmer began in a nervous voice, “wasn’t there an epidemic last year? Isn’t that how your little friend Sootie lost her mother?”

All eyes were on me, and my tongue seemed to swell in my mouth.

“But it wasn’t their fault, and this is the frontier. If we’d had proper medical …” I let my voice trail off.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as all the women looked down at their laps.

All except Sally, who smiled at me and said, “That’s precisely what I’m saying. You’re so
very
brave, Jane.”

  I remained behind a few moments to help Mrs. Staroselsky tidy up, and by the time I left for the hotel, the rain was simply pounding down. I had no sooner placed my foot onto the walkway when my boots hit a slippery bit of wood and went out from under me, and I found myself tumbling into the muddy road. I sat there for a moment, too stunned to move.

“You all right there, Miss Peck?” Red Charley shouted from across the street.

I most certainly was not all right! I looked as if I had bathed in mud!

Gathering as much dignity as I could muster under the circumstances, I hefted my heavy, sodden, muddy skirts and made my way down the walkway to the hotel. As I drew nearer, I saw a broad, dark-haired man carrying a lady across a broken bit of plank.

The man looked suspiciously like Jehu.

I squinted hard through the pounding rain. It
was
Jehu!

And the lady he was so gallantly carrying was … Sally Biddle!

“Why, hello, Jane!” Sally said, linking her arm comfortably around Jehu’s tanned neck. Her eyes took in my muddy dress. “Oh dear, did you take a fall?”

Jehu shifted his weight and set her on the ground. Was it my imagination, or did his strong hands linger on her shoulders for a second?

“Isn’t he the perfect gentleman?” Sally tittered, patting her hair with exaggerated care. “There I was on the other side of the street, and there was nothing but mud before me! I couldn’t risk muddying this skirt. And this kind man came to my rescue! I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Scudder,” Sally finished, looking adoringly at Jehu.

Jehu swallowed and nodded.

“I do hope we have the opportunity to meet again,” Sally said, holding out a dainty gloved hand.

Jehu looked at it in confusion for a moment and then shook it.

“Have a lovely day, Jane,” Sally said smugly, and walked up the steps of the hotel.

Like an unwelcome guest
, the rain came and stayed.

Fierce summer storms battered the bay. Front Street turned into a river, with the planks from the walkway floating by on the current. The tides grew so high that returning oystermen could sail right up to a tavern and have themselves a drink. Mrs. Woodley’s home was set adrift one morning when her husband was out, and Mr. Frink and several other men went after it in boats. In order to rescue the cabin, they finally had to tie it to a piling. By this time, poor Mrs. Woodley and her girls were perched on a table, waist-deep in water and perfectly terrified.

The most popular topic at the supper table was the upcoming elections. Of the three races, the position of justice of the peace was the most hotly debated, with Mr. Swan, William, and Red Charley all campaigning for that office. Red Charley had begun going around town handing out free whiskey to encourage votes. Mr. Frink was running for representative to the legislature, as was Mr. Dodd. M’Carty was the lone candidate running for
constable, and everyone agreed he was a shoo-in because he was the best shot in the entire territory. Not to mention, no one else wanted the job.

Mrs. Biddle, who seemed personally offended by the wet weather, sat in the parlor complaining. She complained that the shouts of the men returning from drinking in the bowling alley kept her from falling asleep. The air did not agree with her and made her feel weak. The food we served at the hotel was not seasoned properly, and furthermore, the amenities in the rooms were not up to her usual standard. Her chief complaint, however, was the lack of amusements available in Shoalwater Bay.

“There is simply nothing to do here!” Mrs. Biddle declared, flouncing into the parlor in a rather unladylike way.

Finally, after many soggy days, the sun broke out, bathing the bay in glorious light. At the first chance, I fled Mrs. Biddle and the confines of the hotel and headed to the beach to breathe in the warm salty air blowing off the bay. Gulls swooped low, kissing the surface of the water. In the distance the oystermen readied their boats to head out. Farther down the beach Sootie and Katy were looking for treasures that might have washed up on shore from the storms.

Beachcombing was popular here, as many ships had the misfortune to wreck along this treacherous coast. They would become stranded along the bar and smash to bits in the ensuing storms. Sometimes we could see the doomed ships far out at sea, flickers of light in the pounding rain and darkness. The next morning the beach would be littered with wreckage and, sometimes, bodies.

Jehu, as the bay’s pilot, had been designated wreckmaster by the locals. It was his responsibility to decide what to do with cargo washed up on the beach, which was how I had come by my gold silk dress. A bolt of gold silk had been packed in a camphor wood chest that had floated in with the tide. All manner of goods washed up on shore. Candles, casks of wine, sidesaddles, sacks of raisins, and even a piano, which did not, admittedly, play very well after being adrift in the salty water. Several months earlier Mr. Swan had salvaged a cask of whiskey that had drifted to the shore unharmed. It was promptly drunk by the men.

“Boston Jane.” Sootie waved her hand. “Look what we found.”

I knelt down to inspect her treasure. It was a strange whitish lump.

“Do you know what it is?” Katy asked.

“It’s beeswax,” Jehu said.

I whirled around to see Jehu standing over us, blocking the sun, a grin on his tanned face.

“Beeswax?”

He squinted slightly, inspecting the object. “I’ve seen it on ships from the Orient before.”

“Papa says the Orient is very far away,” Katy said with authority. “He’s sailed there.”

Jehu knelt down and smiled at the little girl. “I’ve sailed to the Orient, too, and it is very far away.” There was a soft note of longing in his voice.

“But how did it get here?” Sootie asked curiously.

“Could be a ship went down, somewhere out at sea. It
probably floated out in the ocean for a long time. And then I reckon it heard about you lovely ladies, so it decided that this was a good place to come ashore,” he teased them.

Katy and Sootie giggled.

“What do we do with it?” Katy asked.

“Maybe we can trade it with Mr. Staroselsky,” Sootie said. “And get more fabric for dresses.”

“Why don’t we give it to Willard?” Katy suggested.

Sootie gave an indelicate snort. “Willard? Why would we give it to Willard?”

Jehu chuckled at this.

“Speaking of lovely ladies,” Jehu said, straightening, “I’ve been looking for a certain redheaded one. I have something to show you.”

He swung my hand in his and whistled as we walked down the beach in companionable silence. This, I thought, was true love. Someone who made you happy without saying a word.

We had reached the edge of his claim, and I saw that there were several stakes in the ground, as if marking off an area.

“This is where we’re going to build the mill,” Jehu said. “We can float logs down the bay, mill them here, and then load them on barges.”

I surveyed the proposed site. “It’s a very agreeable location.”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked deep into my eyes. “Jane, I have some exciting news.” He seemed about ready to burst.

“Go on,” I encouraged him.

“I’ve been talking to Sally.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“It’s the answer to all our prayers.”

“Sally Biddle is the answer to our prayers?” I asked hesitantly.

“Not Sally. Her father. Mr. Biddle.”

“Jehu, I don’t understand at all,” I said, feeling a twinge of unease. What could Jehu want with Mr. Biddle?

“Sally said that her father’s looking for good investments.” He pointed at the land. “She thinks he might want to invest in the mill!”

“I see,” I said, and I did. Mr. Biddle now was the wealthiest man on the bay. In truth, he was the only man on the bay who had capital to invest.

“Sally said she’d mention my idea to him,” he continued. “And that she’d even arrange for me to meet with him!”

I’ll just bet she did
, I thought.

Jehu seemed genuinely puzzled by my lack of enthusiasm and gave me a little shake. “Don’t you see, Jane? He might partner up with us. It’s what we’ve been waiting for!”

Deep in the pit of my soul I knew that Mr. Biddle would never become partners with Jehu. Not Mr. Biddle with the fine house on Arch Street. Men of Mr. Biddle’s class would never consider sailors as business partners.

“What do you think?” he asked eagerly.

I stared at the hope shining in his eyes.

“How wonderful, Jehu,” I said with forced gaiety. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Everything’s gonna work out, Jane,” he said fervently. “We’ll be rich!”

He picked me up and whirled me around, kissing me soundly.

I couldn’t help but remember Millie telling me that her husband had said the very same thing before he left for California.

  The kitchen was abuzz with preparations for supper when I returned to the hotel. Spaark was shucking oysters. When I walked in, her whole face lit up. She was wearing the same enthusiastic expression as Jehu had been.

“Boston Jane! Isn’t it exciting?”

I just looked at her.

She pointed a finger up, indicating the guest rooms upstairs. “Keer-ukso, he told me about Mr. Biddle giving money.”

“But Mr. Biddle might not give Jehu and Keer-ukso the money,” I said. “They haven’t even talked to him.”

“He will give them the money,” Spaark said.

I tried to smile but couldn’t. This day that had begun so agreeably was getting worse by the moment. Finally I said, “I think I’ll go and check on supplies.”

Sitting at my little desk writing out a list did nothing to restore my sense of well-being. Was Sally orchestrating all this to get back at me? Did she plan to raise Jehu’s hopes and then dash them cruelly? It seemed like something Sally would do.

A shadow fell over the desk and I glanced up. William stood there, looking every bit the refined gentleman.

“A moment of your time, Jane?” William said, wearing a thin smile.

“Trying to impress Mr. Biddle?” I asked, staring at his new suit.

Back in Philadelphia, William had always craved the finer things. But more than that, he had craved belonging to a better social class.

“I hardly need to try, Jane. I am not some lowly apprentice out here. Mr. Biddle recognizes me for the man of influence I am,” he said with just a touch of impatience. He motioned to the parlor. “Shall we?”

I bit my lip and followed him to the parlor, where the late-afternoon light spilled in through the windows. He took a comfortable seat on the settee, perfectly at ease in my presence.

“Have you heard that I am running for justice of the peace?” he asked, his voice full of the old arrogance.

“So is Red Charley,” I said dryly.

His lips twitched slightly, but then his face settled into the controlled mask I knew so well. How had I ever thought that this man sitting across from me deserved my affection?

“What do you want, William?” I asked.