Dillard Beach Mystery – 59

The tall man walked away at such a pace it was difficult for the two women and child to keep up. Ezra began to stumble.

“Kind sir, would you walk a bit more slowly?” Rebekah asked.

The man studied his little group of followers. The two women were winded. “Apologies, mistress. I am a soldier, and walking slowly seems against my very nature. I am happy to show you the way, but you will have to keep up as I must return to the garrison. The new trading post is just by the river—less than half a mile away.”

Rebekah nodded. They walked on. The soldier’s pace did not slow and by the time they reached the river, Ezra had tripped several times, staining his breeches with dirt.

Their guide finally stopped and pointed at a two-story gable-roofed building nearby. A large door was set into the front of the building with two four-light windows on each side.

”The new trading post,” he announced.

“It is much larger than I expected,” Emma said, gazing at her new home.

“It has to be.” The soldier remarked. “This post has to serve all the settlements from the Sound to the Central Valley, though I fear you will find it nearly empty today. We are still waiting for the new manager to arrive.”

“I am the wife of the new manager,” Emma declared proudly. “We are newly arrived this morning from Hyannis. You can be assured the post will be well supplied soon enough.”

The soldier nodded. “Happy to hear it.” He looked about. “And where is your husband?”

“He is still at the dock, managing the transfer of goods. Our wagons should be arriving shortly.”

“Then I will be off, miss. I must return to the garrison or my Captain will be sending out a search party.” He smiled, touched the brim of his hat, and continued down the dirt road. A moment later he disappeared into the nearby woods.

“Come along, Emma,” Rebekah urged. “It is time you explored your new home.”

As Emma and Rebekah approached the entrance to the post, the wide wooden door opened and a short, heavy-set woman blocked the entrance. She stood in silence, hands on hips, studying the small party.

“And who might you be?” the woman growled. “The post is closed. We have no goods for sale today.”

“But you will soon,” Emma declared. “My name is Emma Ballard, wife of the new manager of this trading post.”

Surprised, the woman took a step back. “Gaah! You is not what I was expecting.” She looked Emma up and down. “Ye be not more than a girl, I wager.”

Surprised but not shaken by her words, it took a moment for Emma to recover. “And you are?”

“Shady. Shady Perkins. I run this post for the time being. My husband is caretaker of the property for the village.”

“And where is he?” Emma asked.

“I woudna know. He has been in the fields since dawn.”

Emma stood, waiting. “May we come in?” she asked.

“I suppose no reason to keep you out, as the post is yours,” the woman said in a surly tone. She took a step back and let the women and child enter.

It took very little time for the two women to tour the building. A stair hall faced the front door, with a staircase leading to the second floor. Two large rooms, one on each side of the hallway offered ample space for trading post stock and supplies. A large central fireplace was set in the middle of the large space that filled the remainder of the first floor serving as both kitchen and the heart of the trading post. A door on the back wall gave access to a storage space that ran the length of the building and opened onto the backyard.

“Where are the living quarters?” Emma asked.

Shady pointed at the ceiling. “Three rooms upstairs. One at the top of the stairs and one at each end. Plenty of space for you and your family.” She stared at Ezra. “This one yours?” she asked, pointing at the boy.

“He is not my child, Mistress. Little Ezra belongs to my friend.”

She gestured towards Rebekah as she patted her own belly. “My first child will not be long in coming.”

Shady looked at Emma and nodded. “Before the final harvest, I wager.”

Emma nodded. “There is much to be done before the babe arrives.” She paused, looking around the space that would be her new home. “Would you show us to the rooms above?”

“Nothing to show. Just empty rooms. You go up and see for yourself.”

As Emma moved towards the staircase, she turned to Rebekah. “Come and help me decide. I value your ideas as to the best arrangement for furniture and such.”

Rebekah with Ezra in hand, followed Emma up the staircase to the second floor.

“You have room enough for two large bedrooms plus storage.” Rebekah exclaimed. “I envy you, Emma! In my small cottage there is barely room to maneuver. Here, you can hang your harvest under these rafters and manage quite well.”

Emma stared at the space. “Do you think Charles would let me use the room?”

“He will if there is money to be made,” Rebekah answered. “But why do you ask. The space is yours to use as much as his.”

“I am not sure Charles sees it quite that way. We have not discussed it. In fact, I am not quite sure what my role is here at the trading post.” She looked about and began to cry.

“What is wrong, Emma? Why are you crying?”