Free Sowing Poison by Janet Kellough Page A

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    She wasn’t sure how she should go about getting his attention, until fortune smiled on her endeavour. As Martha was walking home from school, her eye was caught by something shiny lying on the ground in front of the meeting house. It was a penny, probably destined for the collection plate when someone dropped it without noticing. She debated whether or not she should attempt to find its owner, but quickly rejected this notion; after all, the first person she asked was apt to say, “Yes, of course, that’s mine,” whether it was or not, and then she would have to give it up.
    She knew what her Grandpa would say. He would say that the penny had been meant for the church, and that was where it should go, but if she put it in the collection on Sunday her opportunity to win a new friend would be lost. Besides, what if it hadn’t been meant for their own church, but for one of the others — perhaps the Presbyterians or the Catholics? Surely Grandpa wouldn’t expect her to donate so willingly to his rivals. And with this rationalization, she felt that her conscience was in the clear.
    So off she went to Henderson’s store, where she figured Mrs. Henderson could be counted on to give her the best value for her money. After all, the Hendersons were Methodist, and Grandpa was a preacher, or at least he had been. Surely that should be worth an extra couple of candies in the bag.
    She agonized over the selection, limited as it was. Eventually, she decided on lemon rocks and molasses candy. There were a few pieces of marchpane on the counter, which sorely tempted her for a time, but she could get a greater quantity if she chose the more common offerings. And sure enough, Mrs. Henderson added a few extra pieces to the pile on the counter before she bundled the candy up in a twist of paper so Martha wouldn’t lose any on the way home.
    â€œMy goodness me,” she said as she packed the candy. “Aren’t you a lucky girl to have a penny to spend.”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Martha replied, but wisely decided to comment no further. She hoped Mrs. Henderson wouldn’t mention the purchase to anyone. If either of her grandparents came to hear of it, she would have to explain, and she wasn’t at all convinced that the conclusion she had reached over the ethical ownership of the penny would be endorsed by either of them.
    She allowed herself only one of the lemon drops as she walked back to the hotel. When it had melted away in her mouth she was tempted to gobble the whole mess down at once. She didn’t often get real boughten candy. She resisted the temptation, however, and after consideration of the best hiding places the hotel had to offer, she snuck down the stairs to the root cellar and put the twist of paper in the corner behind the apples, which were spread out on the wide shelves for winter storage.
    Then she went to her Uncle Daniel to persuade him that she could help wait on tables.
    â€œMy goodness me, really?” Daniel said when she suggested it. “Well, aren’t you just the best girl to help like that.” He gave her a hug and said they could see how it went.
    Initially the boy continued to ignore her, although she sometimes caught him casting sidelong glances at her while she placed a plate or a glass of water in front of him. She began to talk to him whenever she was near, something that was quite a natural thing for her to do. Grandpa claimed that she chattered every moment she was awake, but he always smiled when he said it, so she didn’t think it could be a bad thing. Eventually she appeared to wear the boy down with the sheer volume of words thrown in his direction.
    â€œWhat’s the matter? Didn’t you like it?” she asked that evening as she cleared away his plate. There was a mound of food on it, and his knife looked as though it hadn’t been used.
    He shook his head.
    â€œWant something nicer?”
    â€œLike