by Poppy
"Stop it, Bill. Stop it. It's all right. He saved me. We're just washing out these cuts."
Bill flung a protecting arm around her, pulled her close against him, and glared over her shoulder, fists still clenched. "How'd you get those cuts? What happened? Who are these men?"
"What happened to you?" Poppy flung back.
"I found my paper all right, but then I asked that dirty, lying thief how he knew what I had packed in my shoregoing trunk. How'd he get in the crew's quarters?"
"The First Mate," Poppy muttered.
"I thought he was supposed to stay on the ship, but I didn't see him," Bill brushed that aside. "Anyhow, that started a big hullabaloo, and before I ever got an answer out of him, the ship had left the wharf, and I got carried out to the anchorage. The captain said to forget it, and a sailor rowed us back to an anchorage clear around the bay. I booted that Ingot Into the water, and then I had to walk for miles to get back here. Now where's Jack? Andy?"
"They're gone," Poppy wailed. "They went to find a place to stay and get a wagon and they didn't come back. Bill, something's happened. You've got to go find them."
"First you tell me what happened to you."
"They left me to guard the trunks. It was hours, and the fog came in. Then somebody, a man-maybe two but I think it was only one-came at me with a knife. And these people opened up and came out and rescued me."
"Where were they before?"
"It's the Sabbath, and we're closed. We saw the lady out there but in this town, we don't accost a respectable-appearing female Who's waiting for a gentleman, even if the gentleman is delayed."
Behind Bill, Efram came up the ladder and stood quietly beside the door, a heavy wooden cudgel in his hand.
"The trunks are inside, and I've locked up below."
Bill released Poppy, swung around, and looked from one to the other and then all around the bare room. Unexpectedly he said,
"Maine."
"Vermont," the man said.
They stepped up and shook hands while Poppy stared. So this place was like England in one way, people could recognize one another's birthplace by the way they spoke, for all they did not speak regular English.
"Bill Mainwaring."
"Sea cap'n?"
"My uncle."
"Josh Wiggins. Josh Wiggins and Son, Efram. General Merchandise and Findings. Came out two years back, but Ma and the girls didn't make it even to the mountains. Took the cholera."
"Lost a young brother from it, cabin boy, took it in New Orleans. Likely young 'un."
They stood silent for a moment.
Then Bill turned to Poppy. "Jack and Andy started for town from here? Right after you landed?"
"We were about the last ashore. Even the crew had landed, and they pulled up the gangplank right after us."
"I'd better start looking 'and asking questions."
"Efram can go with you, he knows the town," Josh said and looked at Poppy. "I don't hold with asking other people's business, but is everything you own in those trunks?"
"They had money belts, both of them," Poppy whispered. "With gold."
Josh's mouth thinned. "I didn't like the Vigilantes, but they did some good," he said obscurely. "All right, Efram. Don't come back until you find them. I'll be down in the shop."
Poppy washed, then poured the brandy on her wrist, wincing at the sting of it. Then she bandaged her wrist and put on her blouse. She poured the blood-tinted water into the slop pail under the ledge, rinsed the basin, and put the used towel beside it. All at once she was saggingly weary and yet tense. She was parched and longed for a cup of tea, but it did not seem right to help herself from a kind stranger's supplies. She sat staring at the door, willing it to open, and heard only the faint creakings as the old ship moved on its bed of mud and sand.
Then she heard men's voices outside, one oddly familiar and yet unexpected, and sprang to open the door. Josh came in and behind him, a tall, elegant figure.
"Maurice!"
"I ran into that Yankee sailor Bill acting like a dealer trying to locate the fifth ace. I had to tell him I didn't think Jack and Andy ever got up into town."
"He didn't find them?"
"I hadn't seen them. We asked, and neither had anybody else. So we had to bet they never left 'the water-front here. That's a big area, and the boy didn't know them by sight, so I came along."
"That was kind of you."
"I did not wish our acquaintance to end with the ship, so I had been watching for you."
Then Poppy noticed what Josh was doing. He was folding the blankets from the beds and putting them on the trunks. Then he turned back the coarse sheets and settled the pillows. He went to the stove, hefted the tea-kettle, and carried it over to fill from the bucket on the ledge.
"They're hurt," Poppy breathed.
"Bill got Jack on his feet," Maurice said. "Efram is carrying Andy. That Efram's a good boy, and he knows this part of town. Once we were sure they had to be down here, he worked up and down and 'across every lot like a bloodhound on the scent. He found them back of a shop across the way and in the next block above the wharf."
"Somebody was waiting for them." Poppy understood bleakly.
Jack came first, staggering, his face a mask of mud, his clothes filthy and ripped and dripping with blood, with Bill lifting and supporting him from behind. Efram carried Andy cradled in one long arm. He put him down on a bunk and went to get a lamp to hold close as Josh bent over the boy.
Andy was unconscious and limp, eyes closed,a trickle of blood running from one nostril. One side of his forehead was scraped and raw, surrounded by a deep bruise already turned purple. His breathing was so slow Poppy held her own breath waiting for each one. Josh felt the whole head with gentle fingers and then put a second pillow under it.
"Boot with nails," Josh said, "Missed his eye, and I can't feel any mushy spots or hear any bones grating. If nothing's hurt underneath, he'll 'come out of it. Only he's not to be touched or moved. No fussing. No nursing. His only chance is to heal himself." He drew a blanket up over Andy and scowled around him. "Leave him alone. Got it? Now let's look at you, mister."
"My-right-collarbone's-gone." Jack said haltingly and with great effort. "And some ribs on that side."
"Dumped him to drown in a muddy ditch," Maurice said. "He's tough, this one."
"They were trying to kick us to death."
"French gutter fighting," Maurice said. "Steerage scum."
"Like the one who fixed me up so I got held behind on the ship," Bill said.
"No steerage scum arranged to have you dropped so far around the bay it took you hours to find us," Poppy raged. "They were only tools, and I know whose hand pointed the way."
"You don't think it was just bad luck we were delayed and got left behind alone?" Jack asked.
"I know it wasn't," Poppy cried. "I had my warning, a shiver down my spine every time I saw them."
"If there's one thing I can't abide, it's a hysterical female," Josh said.
Jack put in quickly, "If you'll cut my coat and shirt off, I'll show you how to set this collarbone and strap up these ribs. I've broken bones before when I've taken a toss riding."
Jack was hurt worse than he was admitting, or he would not have made that slip. Simple sailors did not refer to riding. But he had given Poppy time to quiet herself.
Efram and Josh set to work with scissors, hot water, and towels. They, too, seemed to know about broken bones.
After Jack's ribs were bound up and his arm in a sling, he sat leaning back in a chair, white faced. Maurice picked up his shirt and jacket. "These are ripped. The boy's, too. Money belts? Who knew you were wearing them?"
"Josie knew we had gold in our trunks," Poppy said, careful to keep her voice low and even. "She must have guessed we'd try to find a safer place. I deliberately put a little in that knitting bag and flaunted it. I wanted Josie to notice it. I thought it would draw attention away from the belts. And I didn't think she'd tell the First Mate because
I didn't think she'd want to share with him."
"Women usually do tell the men they sleep with everything," Maurice said. "No woman could have arranged this. The First Mate could have very easily, even to letting everybody think he was staying aboard and then slipping ashore for a few hours."
"You must never risk yourself like that again," Jack ordered.
"So they got all three of you," Maurice said. "They cleaned the board, and you'll never be able to prove a thing."
"Yes, they've cleaned us out," Jack said and then slowly, "Is there a British consul here?"
"No," Poppy cried. "No, you're not going to-" she stopped. She had started to say "give yourself up to Dex" and stopped just in time. She finished instead, "We're not going to ask for help when we can manage."
"How?" Jack asked.
Poppy hesitated before she smiled and shrugged. If anybody here was going to think the less of her for this, well, let them. She pulled up her street skirt, untied the short wool apronlike one underneath, and let it drop heavily to the scrubbed floor. She tried not to remember the moment when she had started across the wharf and thought how those tens of pounds of weight could pull her under the water if she stumbled or lost her way.
"I don't know how much this is in American money, but this was in my furs. The linings of the fur stole and the two muffs had been packed solid." Poppy explained, "Your belts were full when I got to the furs in the bottom of the last trunk, so I made myself a kind of belt, too."
"So you are not without means to pay for a lodging," Josh said.
Poppy understood. Josh would succor and shelter them, but he was a businessman, not a charity. He would assist if he could, but they must stand on their own feet.
"I'm paying twenty-five a week for a bed, in a room with others,"
Maurice said. "Forty-five with meals."
Bill and Poppy looked at each other in dismay. She was sure he would stay with them until Jack and Andy recovered a little, but those prices were impossible.
"When I was here before, plenty of men were pitching their tents up on the hillsides," Bill said.
"Not for Andy," Poppy said as Josh objected. "Not any more."
"Carl Syler was in buying that outfit yesterday," Efram said in his self-effacing way.
"Yes." Josh nodded. "Always remember they say advice is worth exactly what it costs you, and this is free. I'd say that might be your answer."
"I'll listen and thank you," Poppy said.
"Carl's worked hard for a couple of years and done well, running a livery stable with a feed store on the side. But he's had a falling out with his partner, and he's taking off for the gold fields. They shared things out. The partner's keeping the business. Carl took the two houses, pretty far out, but the lots are good, nice and high and dry."
"How far out?" Poppy asked.
"A good twenty minute walk."
Poppy laughed. A man who had walked a continent was balking at a pleasant stroll, but the others seemed to think that it was a fair statement of distance.
"I thought Carl would rent, even if he had trouble collecting, but keep the properties. I know a man did that last year with a lot he swapped for a barrel of whiskey. He came back from the gold fields broke and sold that lot for close to twenty thousand. Fact. Carl wouldn't listen. He wants to clear out lock, stock, and barrel."
"He's anxious to sell?" Jack asked.
"Set on it. But he wants cash on the barrelhead. That's not so easy. Now I don't know how much you've got, but he wants to leave town, and nobody else has offered. They're all figuring to beat him down on Monday."
"You want me to get Carl and bring him here now?" Efram asked.
"Take Bill and Maurice with you. They'll know whether Miss Poppy would consider the places fitting. We'll get Jack in the other bunk before he falls out of that chair, and we'll weigh out this gold and see what's what before you get back."
By the time the three returned with a tall, thin man, his dour face shadowed under a broad hat, Jack was asleep, and Poppy was shaking her head over the long row of figures Josh had added up so deftly. So much money, yet she was sure it would not be enough.
Josh held out the paper. "Here's all they've got, Carl. They was assaulted and robbed when they landed, as you can see." He jerked his head toward the two limp figures in the bunks.
Carl clumped across the room and looked at the paper. "T'ain't enough."
Poppy flared. "Anyhow we'll need something left for furniture and to live on."
"They're furnished except for a few things I sold or gave away."
"We have to eat."
"Your roofs are all right, but aren't the partitions canvas?" Josh asked.
Carl ignored the question. "Glass windows, four in each house."
"Just steps up from the street, no proper stoops," Efram said.
Carl looked at the paper again. "Cash on the barrel-head?"
"Gold napoleons. Weighed them myself."
"You keep them in your safe until I come back in the fall." Carl turned to leave and halted. "I mean I'll take it, ma'am."
"Just a minute," Poppy gulped.
"You want a bill of sale," Bill said.
Josh put out a clean sheet of paper and picked up his pen. "You got the legal description with you, Carl? We want to do this fair, square, and legal. Are you the purchaser, Miss Poppy?"
"I seem to be," Poppy said and waited. Josh did not suggest they could stay here for a couple of days while she looked around to see if she could find just one house and cheaper. Maurice and Bill did not say renting might be better until she learned the town. In despair, she muttered, "Miss Poppy Smith, formerly of Pallminster Lane, London, England."
She wanted to cry and stamp her feet. Those men were going right ahead and writing up that paper, nodding at each other, serious but pleased. There was not one thing she could do to stop them, so she might as well act like a lady about it. She would act like a lady if it killed her. And it might. Because nobody seemed to realize she would not have one penny piece left after this, just a scrap of paper, and that was not going to feed two sick people or buy wood to keep them warm and comfortable.
Carl signed and turned to leave again. Bill joined him.
"It's not wise to leave houses vacant overnight. I'll go with you."
"I won't leave until sunup," Carl said.
"Better for me to be there. I need a bed. I'll get a wagon, Poppy, and come for you and the trunks in the morning." He looked at Josh. "You carry groceries? I've still got my pay packet."
"Keep ten dollars for the wagon and give the rest to Efram. He'll have supplies and stove wood waiting when you get here."
Maurice lingered. He ignored Josh and Efram bustling up and down the ladder, settling the shop and room to rights for the night, bringing up a thin pallet and blankets Poppy knew would be her bed, banking down the fire in the stove and filling the tea-kettle.
"Both houses are vacant. You'll rent the second one?"
Poppy pushed the heavy hair from her forehead. She had not eaten since noon, and she was achingly weary. "Yes. I'll need the money."
"She'll want to be careful," Efram said, picking up the pail of dirty water to carry out. "She'll want to know who she's neighboring with."
"Exactly," Maurice said. "There's not six inches between the two places, I observed. Now my present quarters are expensive, and I suspect somewhat overly inhabited." He pinched his hand between two fingers to illustrate a bite. "I also suspect several of my confreres at the card room are similarly situated. I could speak to them tonight. Say, three or four of us together, all quiet, hard-working gentlemen, seldom home except to sleep and change our clothes. For superior quarters, I'm sure we would agree not to entertain any ladies, and we gamblers do pay our debts the day they're due."
"I know that," Poppy said, remembering Daisy's friend.
"They'd have to find their own cleaning and any extra furnishings that's needed," Josh said. "I'd say a married couple, Miss Poppy, but they're few in
this town, and two ladies living close don't always agree."
Josh was a plain man, but he was not simpleminded. He had seen she was young, pretty, richly dressed, and had carried a large amount of money. She was traveling en famille with two brothers, but she had neither a maid nor a lady companion. He knew she could not be a housewife or a schoolgirl. A respectable woman might object to her as a neighbor and landlady.