But they had already imagined what those details might be, and they both looked taken aback.
“Do you know who it is?” Seth asked.
“Maybe,” Lewis replied. “But I have no proof, so I’ll not bandy names at this point.”
“But at some point in time you must have wondered if it was me,” Seth said, and Lewis sheepishly admitted that he had, but had quickly dropped him from consideration. “You have a happy family, and somehow I don’t think this man knows what that is.”
His timetable was once again in a shambles. Betsy was still far too lame to sit a horse, and even when she did start to feel better, he would still have to take her back to Bath. He debated whether or not he should ride west and resume his round for a few days and then return to take his family home, but that would mean leaving them with Minta. He felt they had imposed far too long as it was. Besides, he would once again be abandoning his appointments and he knew that many of them were in the northern reaches of his circuit, which would add substantially to the number of miles he would have to ride and the amount of time it would take for him to return. It was probably wiser to wait a day and see how things were.
His mind went round and round as he tried to fit together all the pieces of information he had gathered. Again and again he came back to Simms. He studied the Book of Proverbs again, the admonition to “come not nigh the door to her house,” and to “cleave unto thy wife.”
But Simms didn’t have a wife, did he? He had spoken only of a demanding mother and three unmarried sisters. Yet, he had been in Demorestville, in Prescott, in Millcreek. And who had given Sarah the little book and the painted pin, if not a peddler who had a large stock of both? He tried to recall whether or not he had ever seen the peddler’s wagon near Sarah’s cabin, but if he had, it had obviously made no impression on him. It would have been such a common sight that there would have been no reason to remember it. He did feel for the longest time that there was something he had overlooked, and then it came to him: Simms had said he was in Prescott awaiting a shipment, a shipment that had been sent down the river by his brother-in-law. As far as Lewis was aware, he had no brother-in-law; he had mentioned only the unmarried sisters. And he had been quite specific about their unwed states. And where had he been coming from when he had caught up with Lewis that day? Again, everything was pointing to the peddler. It was as clear as the writing on the wall.
The writing … the inscription inside the cover of Rachel’s book! It was a fine, educated hand that had written that. Mentally he compared the writing to the blotched and nearly illegible scrawl that had been on Morgan Spicer’s application for appointment. Not only was Spicer absent at the time of Sarah’s murder, he could never have written the words in Rachel’s book. He just didn’t write well enough.
“Minta,” he said, rising from the table. “Do you still have Rachel’s things?”
“Yes,” she said, puzzled. “Did you want to see them again?”
She retrieved the box for Lewis, who sorted through the effects until he found the Book of Proverbs. Yes, the writing was slanted and well-formed: the mark of an educated man.
“May I borrow this for a short time tomorrow?” he asked, and Minta, though obviously puzzled, nodded her assent. The next morning Willett was nowhere in sight, but Benjamin was in the cramped little corner of the building that had been set aside as an office of sorts.
“Mr. Lewis,” he said, “Willett told me you were around the other day. I was sorry I missed you, so I’m glad you came back.”
“It’s good to see you again, too,” Lewis said. “I hear congratulations are in order. You’ve married since I left.”
Benjamin grinned. “Best thing I ever did. Should have done it long since.”
“I hear you’re so busy you’re not painting anymore.”
“That’s right. Given it up, just like my father wanted me to for years, although Willet and I may do a mural for the new church.”
“I do have a question regarding those pins you made. I understand that you travelled for a time selling them? As well as your portraits and paintings?”
“No, that’s not really quite right,” Caddick said. “Simms had his regular routes, so I sent most of the pin stock out with him. When I travelled I was selling the paintings. It’s only the well-to-do in the towns who would buy those, you see, but the pins were more popular with the poorer folk. I couldn’t cover the same kind of ground as Simms because he had all his other stock as well. He might sell some yard goods, or a pot or a tool at the same time. There just wasn’t enough profit in the pins to merit a special trip anywhere, but it was all right for him because he was going anyway.”
“So he handled the bulk of them?”
“Yes, he had most of them,” Caddick agreed. “Oh, I’d always have a few with me, just in case, but by and large it was Simms. He always said he wished they were worth more because he sold so many of them. He gave a lot of them away, as well. You know, if somebody bought a bible or a prayer book, he’d throw in the pin as a bonus.”
A bible or a prayer book … or a little red Book of Proverbs.
“Does this have something to do with Rachel Jessup?” Caddick asked. “Willett said you were asking questions about her.”
“Well, yes it does. I have never been convinced that all the questions about her death have ever been answered.” He shrugged. “I’m just trying to put the pieces together, that’s all.”
“Don’t tell me you fell under her spell as well?” Caddick teased. “She had all the young fellows dancing, that’s for sure, but I’d have thought you’d be unmoved.”
Lewis smiled. “Oh, no. Don’t worry, I’m well aware that I’m a crotchety old man and unattractive to all, except perhaps my wife on a good day. It’s just a small mystery that’s been nagging at me for a time.”
“And you think it has something to do with Isaac Simms?”
“I’m not sure,” Lewis said. But he was. And becoming surer all the time.
“Did you have any sort of written agreement with Simms? Or was it all just a verbal arrangement?”
“It wasn’t worth enough to be bothered with any sort of contract. I’d just make a note of what I sent with him and he’d make a note of what he’d sold.”
“Do you still have the notes?”
“Yes.” He disappeared under the counter and hauled out a box. “I should have tossed this out ages ago, but my father was always a stickler for record-keeping. He says you never know when you may have to prove something.” He shuffled through the documents. “Yes, it’s all here.” He shoved a sheaf of papers toward Lewis.
He only needed to find one and it didn’t take him long. There, in a fine sloping hand were the words Received, 31 July 1837, 100 pins. Consignment sales as at 9 October, 1837–82. Paid 10 October 1837.
Just to make sure, he pulled open Rachel’s book and compared the writing. There was no question. It was the same. But why would Simms have written in the book before he placed it in her lifeless lap?
He handed the papers back. “Thank you. That helps a lot.”
Caddick shrugged. “I don’t know how, but you’re welcome.”
Lewis had never set much store by the Caddicks’ so-called “artistic talents.” The pins, he felt, were quite useless articles and perilously close to being icons of a sort — something that was more along the lines of the Catholic way of thinking than the Methodist. He could see no reason for Willett’s landscapes at all: why put something down in paint when you could see it in person? But he had had a change of heart about Benjamin’s little miniature portraits. He wished that he had, at some point, had the sense to have one done of Sarah, for he realized that he was beginning to forget what she looked like.
IV
The next day Betsy announced that she was ready to try their return journey, and Minta looked dismayed. “You can’t go yet. It’s been so good having you here. Martha is wonderful with Henry. Stay another day. Please?” and then she disappeared out to the
blacksmith’s shop. When she returned, she had a smug expression on her face, but refused to say anything until Seth came in for his dinner.
She waited until the children had finished eating and then she cleared her throat and looked at Seth.
“What are you looking at me for?” he said. “This is your scheme, you do the talking.”
“Well.” She sat up a little straighter in her chair. “I’ve been thinking.”
“That much is obvious,” Lewis said. “I can tell by the look on your face that you’re hatching something. So tell us what it is.”
It turned out to be the last thing he expected.
“Well, we have the half-house that’s empty, you know. We wanted to rent it anyway, to help out until the shop gets off the ground. Seth and I have been talking about trying to find a tenant.”
Seth was busy all day in the smithy, and it looked to Lewis, at least, that the business was well-launched already, so he knew that Minta was just using this argument to lay the groundwork for what she had in mind.
“I’ve found it a real help to have Martha around,” she went on. “She’s so good with Henry, and I was just thinking that maybe, since the place is empty anyway, you might think about renting it. I know you already have a place in Bath,” she said hurriedly, “but you could rent here just as easily as there, and since you’re travelling all the time anyway, it would be easier for you to come back here. It’s not nearly as far.”
“Well, yes,” Lewis said. “But that would only hold true for a time. I’m just as apt to be on a different circuit in a year’s time.”
“And that’s the problem,” Betsy said, and Lewis knew then that this plot had been carefully constructed by the two women. “Thaddeus, I told you that I’ve reached a time in my life when I want to be settled, and I need some help with Martha. We’re not young anymore, you and I. It won’t be that long before you can’t manage the travelling either, and I can’t think of a better place for us to locate.”
He could see that her mind was quite made up, and long experience had told him that when Betsy made a decision, the decision stayed made. The idea had a lot to recommend it, really, when he thought about it. He wanted to be able to keep a closer watch on Simms, and between that and his regular round, it was evident that he needed the luxury of knowing that he needn’t hurry home to make sure that his family was all right. There was also another aspect to the situation that neither of the women would be aware of. In the long term, he could see that the day of the itinerant clergyman was probably drawing to an end, except perhaps in the newly settled western regions of the province. But that would be a task for younger men, not old hands like him. He suspected he would soon be looking for a place to locate, to become a settled minister who stayed in one place and preached to the same congregation at every service. The Methodist Episcopals in Demorestville had land given to them by Mr. Demorest and hoped to soon be building their own meeting house. He could do worse than ask to be their local preacher when the time came.
“Well,” he said, “what were you thinking of renting the place for?”
Minta named a sum that was less than they were currently paying in Bath, so Lewis knew that her wish to have Betsy and Martha nearby was sincere.
“The place is worth more than that, surely?”
“No, it isn’t,” Minta replied. “It’s so dark on that side, and there’s no yard. But if it’s Mrs. Lewis and Martha next door, I won’t mind sharing the yard, and if it’s too dark over there, they can come and sit in my kitchen.”
Lewis turned to Seth. “And what do you say to all this, sir?”
“It seems like a fine idea to me. It will help us out and you too. What is there here to quarrel with?”
Lewis was aware that his wife was perhaps not the easiest person to share a house with. Will and Nabby had made that clear. But Minta wasn’t Nabby and the two women did seem to get along. Besides, they wouldn’t be in the same house, would they? They could each run their kitchens the way they saw fit and keep each other company in the meantime. And then there was Martha. There was no question that it would be better for her to grow up in the company of someone younger than her grandparents, and to have a ready playmate nearby. He wasn’t sure what Luke would think of it, but the boy was nearly finished school and would be going off on his own soon anyway. If he disliked the notion he could make some plan that suited him better.
“Settled,” he said, and Betsy and Minta beamed.
The question of what Luke would do answered itself in an unexpected way. As soon as everything was agreed, Lewis rode for Bath to arrange for the transport of their belongings. To his surprise, Moses was there when he arrived.
Lewis had heard nothing of Will and Nabby since they had given up the farm in Marysburgh and moved west. They had sent no message, and he had no idea where they were or how they were prospering. He wasn’t sure that he would have written to them even if he had. His last conversation with Will still festered in his mind, and the fact that he was still struggling with the boy’s debt was a constant source of irritation.
It turned out that they had written, not to Lewis, but to Moses.
“It’s a struggle for them,” Moses reported, “but Will says it’s good farmland out there and the price of wheat is starting to rise. He figures I should go there, too. You can still get land real cheap and I could share in with him until I get my own place underway.”
“You shared in once before and it didn’t work,” Lewis said sourly. “What makes you think this will be any different?”
Moses shrugged. “I don’t intend to stay with them for any great length of time. I’ve got a little money saved and if the land is as good as Will says it is, I’ll get my own farm as soon as I can. I can put up with Nabby until then.”
“So, you’re determined to go?”
“Yes, I think so. If I stay here I’ll only ever work for somebody else. There’s a lot more opportunity to make something of myself in a place that’s not so crowded.”
Lewis nodded. It was clear that the boy had made up his mind and would probably go whether he gave his approval or not, but he appreciated the fact that Moses wanted to discuss it with him first. Just for a moment he had a glimpse of himself as his sons must see him: a father who was seldom home but was given to strong pronouncements when he was; a man who had embraced what amounted to a life of poverty in order to grapple with something that was elusive and intangible; a husband who had sacrificed the comfort of his wife and family to take a stand on principle. He blew into their lives after weeks of absence and blew back out again like a winter wind, leaving them once more to stop up the gaps on their own. Moses had paid a price for his father’s convictions — they all had. The boy could have been forgiven had he simply set off westward without a by-your-leave, but he hadn’t. There was none of the defiance he had seen in Will. Moses wanted Lewis to understand his reasoning and give his blessing.
He cleared his throat. “What can I do to help you?” He knew there wouldn’t be much; this boy had always been the most independent of his sons, and his own ability to be of much assistance was severely limited.
He could see the relief in Moses’s face, and gratitude that his father was putting up no argument. “There are a couple of things. First of all, I don’t intend to go alone. I’ve talked it over with Nancy and we’d like to do this together.”
Nancy was the girl he had been courting for the last two years. Lewis had been surprised that they hadn’t married long since, but Moses seldom rushed into anything without giving it a great deal of thought.
Homesteading was a hard task for a man by himself, but it sounded like the girl was willing to do it with him, and that would increase his chances of making it a success.
“We’d kind of like you to do the wedding.”
Lewis was delighted to agree.
“So, what’s the second thing?”
“We’d like to take Luke with us. It’s the same here for him as for me; he’ll always be work
ing for someone else if he stays. He could help us out at first, and then if he likes farming well enough he could branch off on his own and we’d help him.”
Lewis wasn’t sure how he felt about this, or what Betsy would say. Luke was their youngest, and if he went with Moses he would be in a faraway place where they would almost never get to see him. In fact, all of their children would be far away, and it would be unlikely they would have much contact beyond a letter or two now and then. It would be hard for their mother, not seeing them or their babies. But then they had Martha to brighten their old age, he supposed. And there was no question that it would be better for Luke.
“What does Luke say?”
“He wants to go. He was excited as soon as I mentioned it. He just didn’t know what you would think, and I won’t take him unless you agree to it.” Bless this boy, Lewis thought, for letting me know I’m not such a terrible father after all.
He had been unsure about what Luke would want to do anyway, and the more he thought about Moses’s proposal, the more it had to recommend it. Luke would be going off on his own sooner or later — better with his brother than alone. He would find some way to make Betsy see this.
“So,” he said, “when do you want to have this wedding?”
V
In the middle of all the proposals and propositions, Lewis had completely lost track of where Simms might be. Everywhere he went, he inquired whether or not anyone had seen the peddler, but no one had.
“I wish he’d come around, all right,” said one woman in the northern part of his circuit. “The bottom of my big black pot has burnt right through, and I like his better than the ones the store has.”
No one had remarked him for a month or more, and Lewis wondered uneasily what he was doing and where he was doing it. He found his answer with, of all people, Morgan Spicer, who continued to ride the settlements, spreading his version of the Word.
On the Head of a Pin Page 21