The Old Cape House (26 page)

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Authors: Barbara Eppich Struna

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #historical, #Romance, #Mystery; Thriller & Supsence

BOOK: The Old Cape House
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***

The warmth of the day made the ground soggy, and it proved difficult to walk on. Approaching the first house of Eastham, Maria saw its owner, Mr. Jenkins, staring at her as he walked his horse to the barn.

The Widow Baker’s house came next. Maria distrusted her,
thinking of the day the widow had pried her way into her life under
the pretense of a social visit. She could see Widow Baker’s face
framed
in the little window opening of the door. The old woman’s
expression quickly changed at the sight of Maria from surprise to disbelief and finally to anger. She opened the door a crack and shouted, “Get away from here. Go back to where you belong!”

Maria hurried past the annoyed woman’s house.

She could see the Pierce Stand, where Isaac Pierce sold supplies
and served ale on occasion. Mrs. Eldridge was walking towards
Maria, approaching the store from the opposite side. When she caught sight of Maria rounding the curve in the road she picked up her pace and
reached Pierce’s first. She hurried inside and shut the door behind
her.

By the time Maria placed her foot on the step of the store, a
closed sign appeared, sending a clear message that she was not welcome.
When Maria knocked, she found the door locked, and no answer
came from within. Sick in her heart, the young girl turned to go home.

***

On the muddy road ahead, a group of people watched her as she walked towards them. She pulled her shawl closer around her head, hoping no one would bother her. Suddenly, from one side, she heard a squish of mud, and within seconds a large clump of wet sod hit her on the ear. She twisted around to see a young man laughing. Her feet could not out distance the next mound of filth that he hurled at the
back of her skirts. A man, three women and a few small children
waited for her to pass by them. They separated and lined up on either side of the dirt road.

Maria had no choice but to walk between them.

“Witch! Be gone!” yelled the man.

One woman warned, “Stay away from our children, you
murderer.”

The children scooped up black mud and stood poised to hit their
easy target. In seconds, thick soggy soil crashed against Maria’s
body. She stumbled to get away as words were hurled at her from
the attackers, but they were muffled by her screams as she ran from
them.

By the time Maria came into view of her house her shoes were so
caked with mud that she could barely lift her feet. She trudged
forward as her breathing became labored in the chilly air, and her body grew
covered with sweat. She collapsed onto the bench in front of her
house. After a few seconds she regained her composure and could breathe easily once more.

Discouraged, Maria looked out to the coast; her eyes drifted
across the marsh and then to the ground in front of her. Something dark
and flat caught her eye among the grasses to the far side of the
house,
where the snow had melted. She had never noticed it before.
Struggling to stand, she stamped her shoes to shake off the mud and walked
closer to the object. A two-foot square of wooden slats had been
nailed together. She pushed the wood with one foot and it moved. She flipped it over to reveal a black hole. Inside was a rope and bucket attached to a long piece of wood that stretched from side to side. They both dangled above a circle of darkness. She’d found the well.

Hope rippled through Maria’s body, and the mud incident was
soon forgotten as she lowered the bucket down the well. A loud
crack echoed up to her ears as the ice broke. When the bucket filled with water, she pulled up on the rope. To her delight, the container held good clean water. She glanced down at her muddy clothes and shoes with a grateful smile, then carried her liquid treasure back to the
house. She knew her source of water would be in jeopardy as the
snow melted away and the air became warmer. Now Maria was confident that things would be better.

 

 

 

42

April 1716

EASTHAM – CAPE COD

THE HERRING WERE RUNNING;
a sure sign of spring for
Matthew. The temperature was unusually warm so all he needed was his hat
and waistcoat today. His father had recently taken ill and the
younger Ellis was given more responsibilities in the household. Even though
he was not fond of the sea, he felt obligated to replace his father on
several fishing trips. His mother, consumed with taking care of her
husband, also needed his help. The sun felt warm on his back as he headed out in the wagon to deliver a barrel of fresh cod to Smith’s Tavern.

“Hello, Mr. Smith!” Matthew shouted.

Smith was sweeping the step when he saw Matthew pull up.
“Good morrow, Matthew!”

Matthew jumped down and rolled a barrel filled with his fresh catch to the side door.

“We’ll have a good bake tonight and plenty of chowder,” Smith smiled. The tavern owner inspected his purchase with a long sniff. Satisfied, he accepted his bill and placed it into the drawer next to his cash box. He caught sight of the letter given to him by Timothy Edwards and realized he’d forgotten about it.

“Matthew, you were friends with Maria Hallett, am I not right?”

Matthew paused. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Are you not close to her house out there? Have you seen her about?”

“Yes, I’m close, but I’m afraid I haven’t seen her,” Matthew
replied.

Smith took the letter out of the box and handed it to Matthew. “I have something for her. Do you think that you could leave it by her door without anyone seeing that you’ve been there?”

“I don’t know if I should.”

“It would satisfy a favor, and we could keep it our secret. What say you?”

“I’ll try,” Matthew agreed. He stuffed the letter into his vest pocket and gave Smith a wave goodbye.

He’d heard what had happened to Maria when she’d tried to
buy
supplies at Pierce’s. Knowing what people are capable of in
Eastham,
Matthew feared not for himself, but for his parents. They were
vulnerable in their poor health, and their stature in the community might be jeopardized. As the wagon rumbled away from the tavern, Matthew noticed his hands perspiring on the reins. Why should he be nervous at this chance to see Maria? He decided nighttime would be the best time to visit her, and if someone saw him, he’d explain that his visit was on behalf of Mr. Smith.

May 1, 1716

EASTHAM – CAPE COD

As Minda approached the Ellis and Hallett homesteads, she
heard an axe cracking. She could see Matthew splitting wood in
front of his house, but there was no sign of life where Maria once lived. The old PowWah waved her hand and called out to Matthew.

He recognized the PowWah and saw that she pulled a black goat
tethered on a short rope. He laughed and turned to greet her.
“Minda, it’s good to see you. I take it you are well after such a hard winter?”

She rested on a large rock and placed the end of the rope under her foot to keep the goat from wandering. “Yes, I am well, even after
tending to many women. Spring has brought forth numerous
births.” Minda gestured to the goat. “What do you think of my payment from the Macon household? The young mistress gave up twins last night.” She shook her head while patting the goat’s head. “Tis a pity, this poor nanny lost her kid and is in need of milking. I have no need of it. It is a shame because it could provide milk all year long. What say you of giving it to Maria?”

Matthew approved. He thought it would not be dangerous for Minda to contact Maria, but it could be disastrous for him. He knew that Maria’s banishment held no sway over the behavior of Indians and Minda’s visit presented an opportunity for him to fulfill Mr. Smith’s request.

The old PowWah left with goat and letter in hand.

***

The clack, rattle and swoosh of Maria’s loom echoed across the
spring grasses; its sound was lifted by the wind and reverberated
into strange noises to an unknowing ear. Minda knew what it was and happily walked towards its rhythms.

“Maria!” she called out, coming closer to the house.

The clacking stopped as Maria waited and listened for what she thought was someone calling her name.

“Maria!” Minda called once more.

The door opened, and Maria stood in its frame, her hair loose
around her shoulders. She wore neither cap nor shawl. Her body
had become well formed from wielding an axe and being relegated to the
duties of a man. The glow of her cheeks testified to her health and
beauty.

She ran to Minda, laughing at the sight of her friend and the goat. “I’ve missed you, Minda!” Pointing to the goat, she asked,
“Who does that belong to?”

“You!” Minda smiled as she handed the rope to her friend.

Maria whooped for joy. “For me? Tell me all about how this might be.”

After tying the end of the goat’s rope around a leg of the bench by the house, Maria grabbed Minda in a friendly embrace.

They entered the simple but tidy house. Minda saw that things were in the right places, a spinning wheel by the hearth and a loom next to Maria’s bed. “I am proud of you, my child,” she said.

Maria reached for two mugs of ale. “Sit down, sit down.”

She pulled an empty barrel close to the table where Minda sat on the lone chair. They satisfied themselves with what little food Maria
had, shared recent news and then talked of the coming growing
season.

Maria showed Minda the flax and other important seeds gifted from Abigail. When planted, they would provide summer crops for next winter’s food.

Minda also had gifts for Maria. She emptied her bag of herbs and medicines onto the table and presented them to Maria. At the bottom of her bag Minda felt Maria’s letter. Handing it to Maria she spoke, “Forgive me. I have forgotten a most important item that Matthew
gave me for you. He said that a stranger had delivered this to the tavern and Mr. Smith then passed it on to him, hoping you would receive it.”

The young girl took the letter in her hands and touched the
bumpy
wax that sealed it closed. The heavy parchment had been folded
twice,
making a square. Who would be sending her this and why? She
broke the seal and opened it to reveal its message:

 

My Beloved Maria,

I pray this letter finds you well and not of a sad heart. It has been too long that we have been apart. I dream of you at night and thoughts of you remain with me when I wake. Alas, the treasure that I sought was gone upon our arrival. But soon good fortune came upon me and we now sail with a fleet of ships that transport goods. Hold fast to a faith that I will return to you as soon as I am able.

Keep watch for me…Sam

***

Maria held Sam’s letter in her hands. She reread its words over and over until Minda finally asked, “Maria, is there bad news?”

“No. No. It’s from Sam.”

 

 

 

43

Present Day – July 21

CAPE COD

THE SPACIOUS PARKING LOT OF THE LOCAL COFFEE SHOP
was filled with cars. It serviced eight different stores, and at 10 am, everything bustled with activity. A celebratory coffee and donut would suffice to honor the coming of our new little one. Paul parked the car in the back row.

He hesitated before getting out. “Look at those two guys over there by the black truck. Isn’t one of them Neil Hallett?”

I squinted through the windshield. “Yeah, that’s him.”

Paul took his sunglasses off. “See the guy to his right? He’s the weird man who came into the gallery the other day but spent most of his time looking around outside.”

“Oh yeah, I remember him. What’s he doing with Hallett?”

“Do you mind if we sit here for a minute? I want to see what
they’re going to do.”

“No I don’t mind, but we’ve got to get home soon and open up the gallery.”

Paul leaned over the steering wheel to get a better view.
“They’re shaking hands. Now the weird guy is getting into the same car that was in our parking lot.”

“Maybe I’ll give Salinger a call and see if we should be worried about this Hallett guy,” I said. I buckled my seat-belt. “We’d better get home.”

Paul looked over to me. “Sorry honey, no donut today. We’ll
celebrate tomorrow.” He glanced back to the two men. “I’m
concerned about those guys.”

I agreed. “They look a little sketchy, but I’m sure there’s nothing to get upset about. It could be just a coincidence.”

That afternoon I made a call to Louis Sallinger. His voicemail
picked up. I recorded, “Hello, Mr. Sallinger, this is Nancy Caldwell
from Brewster. I was wondering if you could give me a call
concerning Neil Hallett? Thank you.”

***

Sallinger always screened his calls. As he sat at his desk listening to Nancy’s message he grumbled under his breath. “What the hell did that jerk do now?”

***

Around 4 pm, the phone rang. I picked it up in the bedroom, hoping it was Salinger. “Hello, The Caldwell Gallery.”

“I’m calling from the
Whydah
Museum in Provincetown. I was wondering if I could speak to someone about the discovery that was found in your backyard.”

I sat down, taken off guard with the question. “Oh...that…would be me. Yes, we did find some things in our backyard.”

“Well, I’m glad I have the right place. Would it be okay if I stopped by to see what you found?”

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