Dillard Beach Mystery – 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Late May 1680

Three days after what Rebekah considered a failed meeting with Chapman, she was more than a little surprised to find the Captain knocking at her front door.

It was late afternoon and Rebekah was tired from work and a full day’s caring for Ezra. She had spent the day in both gardens and shed, cutting plants, boiling water, and preparing sample tinctures from a half dozen medicinal herbs. Her apron displayed the stains of her work and her disheveled appearance revealed the hours she had spent stirring her mixtures over simmering coals. Little Ezra had been quietly playing with his rag doll, rocking in his cradle, or sleeping in the sling across his mother’s back. She had stopped to feed the child throughout the day but by late afternoon the boy was hungry again and crying for his mother’s breast.

Rebekah settled herself and her son on the short bench by the window in such a position as to let the afternoon sun streaming through the small window, warm them both. She had begun to nod a bit when there came three sharp knocks at the door and a voice cried “Halloo!”

Rebekah returned Ezra to his cradle and hurried to answer, thinking it might be a message from one of the expectant mothers soon due to deliver. She opened the door to find Captain Chapman, standing, hat in hand with a smile on his face.

“Mistress Rand. I hope you are well this day.”

Rebekah took a step back and studied the Captain.

“I am well.” She stood and waited for her visitor to explain himself.

“I have come to apologize.”

“For what, sir?”

The tone of her voice, edged with weary frustration was not lost on the Captain.

“I fear our last meeting was a disappointment for you. Emma has told me I did not fully grasp your situation and what you meant to accomplish. I could have been more helpful.”

“Yes,” Rebekah responded. “You could have been more helpful.”

“And so I return, hat in hand, and ask for you to accept my apology. I would like to do better and for this reason I have brought a small gift.”

He turned back to his horse, opened one of the saddlebags and pulled out three small clay jars and several wax tapers.

“You will need containers for your ointments and I thought you might want to experiment with clay jars you could seal with a bit of beeswax.”

Suddenly aware of how she must look with her face unwashed and her apron covered with stains, Rebekah struggled to compose herself before answering. She studied the jars and tapers.

“I thank you for your efforts, and your gift Captain. These might work well enough, but I can hardly afford clay jars and tapers in any quantity. Especially if they are beeswax tapers.”

Chapman handed the small jars and candles to Rebekah. “Do not concern yourself with the cost. Test these and tell me if they will serve your purpose. I will return in a few days, and if they meet your needs, I will offer you a proposal.”

He did not wait for an answer but strode to his horse, mounted and headed back down the road towards the village center.

Rebekah stood and watched as he rode away. “That man is a mystery to me, she thought… as he truly appears at odds with himself. First he’s all for helping me, then totally against. Now, if I take him at this, his latest word, he is considering a partnership with me?”

Long after supper was done and the bowls were scraped clean, Rebekah pondered Chapman’s visit and what it might mean. She felt the need to breathe night air to clear her mind. She checked that Ezra was safely asleep in his cradle then removed her shawl from the hook by the front door and took a few steps into the front yard. She looked up and gazed at the stars. A slight breeze carried the delicate scent of magnolia from the garden to where she stood. “It is long past time to plant a bed of squash and a second bed of leeks,” she thought. She made a list in her mind, ticking off the seeds and seedlings that were safely growing in the warmth of the shed: cilantro, lemon balm, borage, dill and basil. “And I still need to clear space for beets, carrots, radishes and chard.” She would have stayed longer in the garden but the trill of a screech owl sitting on a branch nearby caused her to realize how late was the hour and she returned to the comfort of her cottage. “Time enough tomorrow to plan and clear. It is time I rest.”