Free Sowing Poison by Janet Kellough

on, but I honestly don’t see what you can do about it. If she was asked to leave, she would no doubt simply move down the street to the other inn, or operate from the Elliott farm, and in the meantime you would have deprived Daniel and Susannah of most of their current income. I know it seems wrong, but I don’t think it’s wrong enough to make a fuss over.”
    As usual, Betsy’s opinion was one of good sense, but he kept an eye on the hall after that. Within an hour, Peter Spencer came down the stairs with a satisfied look on his face.
    â€œI knew it,” he said to Lewis. “I knew there was no chance that Matt could ever drown. He was born with a caul, you know.”
    There was a persistent opinion that babies born with a caul were impervious to death by drowning, that somehow the birth membrane protected them from a watery death. Lewis subscribed to no such notion, but he was reluctant to snatch away whatever hope this man held.
    â€œYou’ll see,” Spencer said. “They’ll turn up. Mrs. Elliott said they were happy where they were, and she thought they might be near an island. They were on their way from Oswego, you see, so an island makes sense. They probably put in at Main Duck and can’t get away again.”
    If that were the case, if the crew was indeed comfortably housed in one of the cottages on the island, they might well take a few days to ensure that the weather was fair enough to continue. In the meantime, it would be impossible for them to notify their relatives of what had happened. Similarly, if they had never left Oswego at all, they could bring news of their own fates as quickly as anyone else. If Spencer and Mrs. Elliott were right, it was not surprising that no news had reached their ears. Lewis could only hope Peter Spencer’s optimism was not ill-conceived.
    â€œWe can only pray that this is the case,” Lewis said, and Spencer appeared satisfied enough with this half-hearted response.

Chapter Seven
    Since his arrival, Martha had been intrigued by the pale boy who was staying at the hotel. The only time she saw him was when he appeared for meals with his mother. He would sit at the table across from her and pick half-heartedly at the food that was placed in front of him, occasionally wrinkling his nose in disgust at a particularly fatty piece of meat or an underdone crust. His mother would chide him gently, but this admonishment was never enough to make him eat more than a few mouthfuls.
    He didn’t go to school. Martha had started classes in the fall and her excitement at going off to the schoolhouse down the street from where they lived had soon faded at exposure to the constant repetition of the alphabet and counting to one hundred every day. She could already read — her grandma had taught her — and in spite of the thrill of spending her days with the other children, she was too easily bored by the routine. She was mildly envious of the boy, Horatio, who had all of his days free to do as he pleased; he just didn’t ever seem pleased to do much of anything, she thought, and she made it her mission to befriend him.
    Martha was used to making friends wherever she went, but when they lived in Demorestville her customary playmate had been Henry Jessup, Minta and Seth’s little boy, who lived in the half-house next to them. Henry was quite a bit younger, and although he had tried to keep up with whatever game Martha chose to invent, he was timid and clumsy and sometimes she became very impatient with him. After Grandpa moved them all to Uncle Daniel’s hotel, Martha had missed Henry dreadfully. Although Horatio was older than Henry, and would probably not be as eager to do her bidding, Martha was determined to give him a try. So when school was done each day, she returned to Temperance House and offered to help with whatever she could manage, just so she might catch a glimpse of him. But he appeared not to notice her at