Purling Road - The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-10

by M. L. Gardner

  After a moment she composed herself. “My question is, what does it matter?”

  “I suppose it matters a lot to some folks.”

  “Like who?”

  Peter brought his hands out and his shoulders up slowly. His playful grin told her he knew, but wasn’t going to say.

  Still, she felt more sure footed even though her secret was on the verge of being exposed. Because it was obvious he was hiding something, too.

  She leveled her eyes. “Peter, tell me where you live.” Like a starving dog clinging to a bone, she wasn’t letting go.

  “Actually, you know what? I don’t think the waitress has even noticed us yet.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to be somewhere soon. This was fun. Let’s do it again sometime.” His tone told her he wasn’t at all serious.

  She watched him get up and walk away. Her lips pursed in irritation. He was hiding something and she was damned and determined to find out what. After all, a journalist that was hungry for success and had the work ethic of a machine wasn’t someone you could hide from for long.

  ***

  “How about I give Muzzy a gift voucher for a makeup session?” Arianna asked.

  “Ahna, please, put it to bed! You’ve been talking about Muzzy’s hair for a week. If she wants to change it, she’ll ask you. You’ve already told her you were planning on taking an ad out,” Ava said.

  “I just want to help, is all. Look what I did for you. You’re stunning now. Honestly, every time you step out of the house you catch men’s eyes.”

  “You talk as if before you touched my head I ran around on all fours and woofed,” Ava said.

  “She’s really quite pretty. Or…could be. If she’d only do something with herself. I wonder if I could talk her into putting my ad just below the Hettie Helps column.”

  “I’d think you’d have to pay a premium for that spot,” Ava said.

  “Ah, that’s where the bartering comes in. I’d offer to do her hair every week to make up the difference.”

  “Can we please let Muzzy worry about herself and get back to work?” Claire asked, looking at them both. “Everyone will be here soon and we’re hardly set up!” Her voice echoed and then it fell silent; all three women preparing for the first winter market.

  The church gymnasium was large and well lit, but on the chilly side. They kept their coats on while arranging tables for other vendors and setting up their own. While they hoped that the twenty who reserved a spot would show, the room could easily hold three times that.

  “I’m so glad we were able to organize this so fast. Six days before Christmas, there should be a lot of people looking for gifts and decorations,” Arianna said as she strung pine boughs in loops along the edge of her table.

  “I sure hope so,” Claire said, struggling to create an improvised stand for one of her larger paintings.

  “Here, let me help,” Arianna said, and turned and walked away.

  Claire stood open mouthed. “Were you talking to me?” she asked.

  Arianna threw up a hand. “Yes, just hold on.” She pushed the side door open, ducked outside and back in, shaking the snow and ice off a few large branches.

  “These were blown down with all that wind we had the other day.” She went behind the table and fixed two sticks behind the wooden framed canvas, propping it up.

  “There.”

  “Thank you,” Claire said. “I asked Aryl to make some stands, but he hasn’t found the time.”

  Arianna fluttered her hand and went back to her own table. Hers, of course, was the most elaborately decorated. With hand dipped candles burning, Ethel’s borrowed silver pieces and swags of winter greenery accenting her decorative creations, it made Ava and Claire’s tables appear more like desperation fire sales. Still, each was content with what they had and tried to make it as appealing as possible.

  Claire’s table held canvas paintings of all sizes, painted shells and wooden signs. She had also pre-painted rocks with beautiful lace patterns and had them placed about, called them paperweights and offered free personalization.

  Ava’s table was the most modest, with Amy and Jean’s outgrown clothes, clean and pressed, a few hats she had knitted that were too small and a few things she had found rummaging around the attic. Non-sentimental items inherited by Jonathan and herself. She opened a steamer trunk and draped clothes, doilies and ties that had gone out of fashion, but not necessarily out of need.

  “I hope Caleb remembers to bring me some food. I’m already starving,” Arianna said, putting a hand to her stomach.

  “Do we have many food vendors registered?” Ava asked.

  “We have someone bringing popcorn and another woman listed green beans. Apparently, she had a bumper crop and is bringing a few bushels from her cellar. Only I have had my fill of green beans,” Arianna said with a pinched nose. “I’ll wait and hope for the popcorn.”

  “Well, I could use some. Our little plot at your place didn’t do so well. I wonder if she’ll trade?” Claire mumbled as she walked away.

  An hour before the market was to open to the public, women were bustling everywhere. The chatter echoed off the walls and blended, making for one steady hum of estrogen fueled excitement. All were happy for the mingling, eyeing other’s tables for things they might want to take home and most of all, eager to help their families in any way they could.

  “Well, I was hoping for more,” Arianna said, arms crossed as her eyes floated around the room.

  “Fifteen is a good start,” Ava said, poking her. “Besides, we all get an afternoon without children. Why don’t you go see to that woman over there? She looks like she’s struggling and the doors open soon.”

  What Arianna had envisioned was very different than what was staring back at her. She’d pictured dozens of tables bursting with lace and pretty garments, winter produce, handmade gifts, baked goods and treats, and maybe even a jewelry table lined with black velvet, shimmering with gems and chains. What she saw were fifteen tables; some covered with sheets, some not at all, with an odd assortment of goods from soap to second hand clothes. Few specialized in one marketable item as Arianna had hoped for.

  The woman with the green beans was ready and waiting, sitting with her bushels tilted out and her small scale next to a scratch pad.

  One woman had vases, dozens of them in all shapes, sizes and colors. None of them looked branded or expensive and Arianna thought she might have made them herself.

  Another woman had a table covered in shells. Large and small conchs polished and gleaming, dried starfish and small pieces of driftwood decorated with various artifacts from the ocean, nestled in scraps of fishing net. All in all, it was a decent start, she supposed, and suddenly her mood lifted.

  “Oh, look,” Arianna said, taking a step. “There’s the popcorn.”

  ***

  When the women returned from a successful winter market, they walked into chaos.

  Savrene and Felicity were screaming, Jac was yelling gibberish, banging a toy on the hardwood floor and Jean was running from one child to the next, trying to soothe them. Ethel sat in her chair, scowling, ignoring all that was going on around her.

  Ava sailed past looking none too pleased and plucked Amy up off the floor. She held her arm out and Jean sought refuge under it. Claire yanked the toy from Jac’s hand, ceasing his tirade.

  “Where’s Emily?” Arianna asked Ethel.

  She sat in stubborn silence. From the corner of her eye she saw a figure sail down the stairs and head for the kitchen door. Choosing between her screeching daughters, she picked Felicity, who was the louder of the two and sprinted into the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” Arianna asked as Emily walked by her with Arthur and her bag.

  “I’m leaving,” Emily said.

  Arianna grabbed her arm and Emily flinched.

  “I’m sorry,” Arianna said, letting go and moving between her and the door. “Please, don’t go. Tell me what happened?”

  With her face tremb
ling, she gripped the handle of her bag tighter and kept her head low.

  “Please move out of my way,” she said timidly.

  “Emily, what happened here this afternoon?” she asked. “At least tell me that.”

  Emily’s chin quivered. “It was Ethel.”

  “What about Ethel?” Arianna asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  “The children were playing a little too loudly. They woke her up and she had another…episode.”

  “Where she didn’t know who you were?”

  “She didn’t know who any of us were. She kept trying to shoo the children out of the house. She raised a broom to them, to all of us, screaming for us to leave.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Emily,” Arianna said. She moved closer and laid a hand on her arm. “Is she better now?”

  “I think so,” Emily said, glancing over her shoulder. She shimmied away from Arianna.

  A hush had come over the house.

  “She was chasing after us with the broom, tripped and nearly fell. She banged her arm pretty good and when she stood up she was holding it, crying and she knew us all again.”

  Arianna closed her eyes. Ethel’s episodes weren’t growing in length, but they were becoming more violent.

  “Is everyone alright?” Arianna asked.

  “Yes. They’re scared out of their minds, poor things,” Emily said, clutching Arthur.

  “I’m going to take Claire home,” Ava said. “Unless you need us to stay?”

  Felicity had quieted, clinging fiercely to her mother. Samuel and Savrene toddled into the kitchen and held onto Arianna’s skirt.

  “No, we’re fine,” Arianna said, putting a hand to her forehead.

  “I’ll see you both later.”

  With sympathetic eyes, they left and Arianna lowered her hand. “I am so sorry that happened while I was gone. I promise, I won’t leave you with all of this to deal with again. Please don’t leave.”

  “I don’t want to stay here with her,” Emily said. She looked hard. Scorned. Refusing to even look in Ethel’s direction.

  “I know she’s been doing this more and I know it’s hard to deal with.”

  “It’s not dealing with her episodes. It’s what she said after she was in her right mind.”

  “What did she say?” Arianna asked. She feared she had a fair idea and dreaded to hear it aloud.

  Emily, whose look of scorn turned into one of sadness, sniffled. “She said that I was a fool to think Arthur was coming back for us. Told me to get used to playing house here because I’d never have one of my own to tend to, let alone a man to provide it for me.”

  “Evil!” Arianna growled and glared in Ethel’s general direction. She shuffled to the table, draped in children. Pulling out a chair she motioned for Emily to sit down.

  After a moment’s debate she did so reluctantly, setting her bag down on the floor.

  “Emily, where would you go? It’s the middle of winter.”

  “I’ve got enough train fare to get to Cleveland. I was going to go to Arthur. If I just show up, he has to take us in.”

  “Emily, you can’t do that. What if he can’t? What would you do then?”

  Emily dropped her eyes with a sloppy shrug.

  Arianna thought long and hard about what to say next. Of course the girl couldn’t leave with no sure place to go and it nearly dark outside.

  “Tell me something.” Arianna moved Felicity more comfortably on her shoulder. “Are you mad at her for saying what she did or are you mad because you’re worried it’s true?”

  Emily’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “You haven’t been around Maura a lot, but I have and I’ve learned a thing or two. Think about that while I go lay Felicity down.” She ushered the twins closer to Emily.

  Walking into the living room where Ethel sat brooding, she pulled the bassinet from below the window, glaring at her.

  “I’ll deal with you, later,” she hissed.

  She put Felicity where she could see her from the kitchen table and went back to find Emily crying.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry, Em. I just want you to ask yourself the question honestly.”

  “I did and yes, I’m afraid it’s true. In his last letter not only did he tell me he couldn’t make it for Christmas, he said that all of a sudden his wife doesn’t want the divorce so badly. I think his father paid her, is what happened. She’s clinging to him for dear life and until he is rid of her, I have no chance at a life at all.”

  She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. Arthur stared up at her with concern on his young face. Gripping her shirt fiercely, he laid his head down on her chest.

  “So there are some complications. It’s going to take more time than you thought. That doesn’t mean that it won’t happen. You can’t give up hope, Em. Look how far you’ve come. Look at all that you’ve been through and all that has kept you and Arthur apart. Yet he still found you and came to you. You still spent a few days together and you know he loves you. You have to know that.”

  With a reluctant nod, Emily cast her eyes off to the side.

  “If that old crotchety woman in there dares open her mouth again, and she won’t if I can help it, you just ignore her. She’s old and scared and losing her mind.”

  “It’s not right that she’s taking it out on everyone else,” Emily said softly.

  “I don’t know that she can help it.” Arianna took her hand. “I’m going to contact David after he gets home. He might know of some treatment or doctor that specializes in this kind of thing. Just please, go unpack your things. No one wants to see you go.”

  ***

  Arianna and Emily were upstairs putting the children to bed. Ethel had long since fallen asleep in her chair and Caleb was finishing a late dinner alone at the table. It was warm with the wood-fired stove still giving off plenty of heat. He was deep in thought about many things; his choice of animals to buy or barter for, his choice of crops to plant. It was a gamble. He knew what grew well here, but had no idea what prices would do next year and agonized over making the right decision. He regretted not making his decision to come home sooner. If he had, he could have gotten in a crop of winter spelt. At least that would be something. But then again, it would take up valuable space this spring.

  Caleb had fifty acres to work with and every inch counted when his family’s lives depended on it. There were ten more, but they were wooded and had been a good source of firewood and small game hunting. He would incorporate that land as it was cleared which he hoped wouldn’t be any time soon. As it stood now, he’d divided those acres into using thirty-five for crops to sell or barter, five to grow food for livestock, two for Arianna’s kitchen garden and vegetable stand and two for grazing. Of course there was the acre of blueberry bushes his mother had planted years ago. It had done well, kept them in constant supply and sold decently at the roadside vegetable stand, but he’d often considered razing the orchard and using the land for something else.

  He’d changed up the amounts of land devoted to each cause several times in his mind and more than once had wished he could ask Jonathan for his insights. Not that he knew anything about farming, but he did have a knack for numbers and projecting futures markets. He’d be able to tell him his best bet for next fall.

  He wiped the last remaining bit of stew from his bowl with a piece of bread. The only thing he needed to decide now was whether to plant wheat or barley as the main crop. He was debating this and thinking heavily about swallowing his pride and asking for Jonathan’s opinion when there was a knock on the door. He looked up, saw his friends through the glass and at first was surprised. Then concerned. He jumped up and let them in, closing the door quickly against the cold wind.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Why is it that whenever any of us see each other unexpectedly, we think something is wrong?” Aryl asked with an amused tone.

  “Because it’s after dark and biting cold outside. You two wouldn’t be here if
it wasn’t important.”

  “Well, it is important. Can we sit down?” Jonathan asked.

  “Sure,” he said, putting out his hand. “You want coffee? I think there’s some left.”

  “Please,” they both said in unison. Aryl pulled off his hat, but left his coat on. Jonathan left everything on and blew into his hands to warm them.

  “I think we have a good storm coming,” Jonathan said.

  “Is that what you came all the way over here to tell me? I can read the sky you know.”

  “No, that’s not what I came to talk to you about.” He didn’t elaborate any further, leaving Caleb to wonder what was so urgent that they had to talk to him tonight. Then again, since he had given David a ride to the train station himself, he had a fair idea.

  He passed steaming mugs and took his seat again, finishing off his bread while Jonathan appeared to be working up to something.

  “We need to talk to you and we need you to hear us out. Some things have changed and…I need your help. We need your help.”

  Caleb sat back, his face pinched in displeasure. He was right. They were here to ask him yet again to come back.

  “You guys don’t give up, do you?”

  “Caleb, I don’t beg. You know that. But I am here now, begging you to come back. Just for a little while. Just until I can hire some people to replace you, David and Peter.”

  “Jon, half the damn country is out of work! How hard can it be to find a few men to throw pots?” he asked.

  “You know this business,” Aryl said, leaning to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s hard work in the cold sleet and it only pays enough to keep us alive.”

  “Unless I can get four boats going with two men on each boat,” Jonathan interrupted. “We’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable then.”

  “My point is,” Aryl continued, “anyone who’s willing to do this work is already doing it. Sure, we could have a string of day workers, but that’s hardly productive. It takes a few weeks for someone to find their footing. They’d do nothing but slow us down.”

  “I promise, I’ll keep looking,” Jonathan said. “I won’t keep you a day longer than I have to.”