Chapter Three

DILLARD BEACH MYSTERY UPDATE

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Cape Cod, September 16, 1678

The morning was cool when, a few days later, Rebekah made her way to the village center. She did her best to avoid the general store as much as possible, succeeding by growing most of what she needed in her own garden or creating it by her own hand. But there were times when even her meager provisions needed replenishing. This day she was in need of a new dough bowl.
The one she had inherited from her mother and used almost every day in making bread had developed a deep crack along the bottom. No matter how she tried to repair the surface, the crack threatened to split the bowl in two. It was time to buy or trade for a new one which meant a trip to the village store.
As long as she was compelled to walk the few miles, Rebekah determined to make the trip worth her while. In addition to a visit to the shops, she intended to walk by the docks. Perhaps John Rand would be about and she might speak with him. Arranging a meeting with John might be considered by some in the village to be scandalous without a chaperone hovering nearby, but Rebekah was long since past caring what others thought. She was a single woman, with property and a means of taking care of herself. How else was she to meet someone and marry if she did not make the effort on her own? With no father, uncle or older brother to guide or direct her, Rebekah knew she must direct herself. And so she did.
She carefully planned her time for errands in order that they fill the better part of the morning. First, a visit to the apothecary for a few rare spices she could not grow herself, and then to the general store for needles and to trade her newly acquired chicken for a used but serviceable dough bowl. Her goal was to be at the village docks at the incoming tide. She had often seen John Rand setting his nets just beyond the saltwater flats as the tide began to rise. The fish would follow the flow of water and there would be easy fishing. That morning as she walked towards the village she could see empty docks in the distance. The men were still out fishing but in a few hours they would return, their boats full of whatever they were lucky enough to catch. Rebekah gazed at the sky and calculated the position of the sun in a few hours time— after the incoming tide. John Rand would be on the docks, his fishing done for the day. It would be a good chance for the two to accidentally meet.
It took longer than she would have wished to haggle over the trade of her young hen for a new dough bowl. But she prevailed and won the bowl in exchange for the chicken and a small jar of salve she had made from the Tulip Tree. Including the salve at the end of the bargaining had sealed the trade. She had noticed that the shop keeper had a nasty rash on the back of both hands and could use a home remedy.
“I made the salve from the inner bark of the Tulip Tree itself, Mister Boswell. It promises great relief for your swollen joints and rashes of the skin.” Rebekah pushed the jar into the merchant’s hand. “Add it to your tea water if you have a cough.”
The merchant was reluctant to believe her. “It does all that?”
“That and more. I’d say it was a wondrous salve.”
“How dear is it?”
Rebekah waved his hand away. “No payment sir, but try it for yourself and next time I come by, you can thank me.”
Boswell shook his head in wonder. “You do manage to carry on, Mistress Howland. You have a real talent for persuading. Perhaps someday you might want to join me…?” He let his voice drift off when he saw the frown on Rebekah’s face.
“I’m sorry Mister Boswell, but you are under a false impression. My tinctures and potions are not for sale. I use them with my patients and offer the ointment to you here simply as a kindness.”
Boswell nodded. “I understand. No offense meant.” But he could not help but wonder at the skill of Rebekah’s salesmanship by adding the one item to the trade he could not resist.