walking stick as he moved to the carriage door Tobias held open. Jumping onto the pavement, Henry looked around, starting with the house in front of him.
To his surprise, the trim on the brick structure had been painted a clean beige, unremarkable if not for the darker trim at the windowsills. An outward improvement that might help him resell the place.
Not far away was a restaurant with living quarters above, and on the other side of that a single-story tavern, with a sign in the window advertising a pawnbroker on the premises. Likely it wasn’t just a tavern, though they probably did sell drinks. Pawnbrokers went hand in hand with gambling rooms. Not exactly the worst of the businesses to be found within a few blocks, but definitely not intended to meet the needs of polite society.
“This is where you invested the bank’s money.” Henry’s wordswere as flat as the roof on a yet-to-be-demolished structure across the street, victim of a fire. A charred sign, which once advertised massages, hung at an odd angle.
“As Miss Caldwell explained,” Tobias began, while Henry took immediate satisfaction in seeing that he looked doubtful too, “she needs to be near the population she wishes to reach.”
“How will staying in this neighborhood free any one of them from what she hopes they will leave behind?”
“A good question, Henry. Let’s ask her, shall we?”
Tobias was already up the half-dozen stairs to the freshly painted threshold.
To Henry’s surprise, it wasn’t Dessa Caldwell who answered. It was Mariadela White, from White’s Mercantile.
“Come in, gentlemen!” she greeted them warmly, far more warmly than Henry would have expected, given their history. He’d never intended to damage White’s business all those years ago by offering his goods at a rate even Henry could barely afford. And it wasn’t generosity, either. It had been good, sound business practice for the plans he’d had in mind.
“Dessa will be down in a moment, but please, come inside. Let me take your hats.”
She did so, setting the items aside on a hook provided next to the door. The room was sparsely furnished—only a settee, a side chair, and a small table holding an oil lamp—but he could see an adjoining dining room that offered a table and more chairs. Nothing yet hung on any of the walls, but like the trim, these walls were recently painted, here a dull but unblemished gray. A carton sat off to the side of the dining room, next to the table. It appeared to be half-full of linens.
“What a pleasant surprise, Mrs. White,” Tobias said as he, like Henry, looked around. “We didn’t expect to see anyone but Miss Caldwell.”
“I’ve been helping her when I can.”
Though Henry said nothing, he recalled she had several children who, almost ten years ago, had been constantly underfoot and into mischief—part of the reason he was sure customers had preferred his quiet establishment just across the street. Likely those same children were valued employees by now.
Before Henry could think of a greeting of his own—one he wasn’t overly eager to extend anyway—the moment was lost in the warm welcome of Dessa Caldwell as she swept into the room from a hallway opposite.
“How happy I am to see both of you! Do you know Mrs. White?”
“Yes, of course,” Henry said, offering her a brief glance. “Though she banks with a competitor.”
Tobias laughed. “Yes, but we won’t give up hope, will we, Henry? It’s always a pleasure to see Mrs. White. Tell me, how are William and the family?”
A few moments of conversation followed, words Henry knew he was bound to forget before too many minutes passed, so he occupied his thoughts elsewhere. He could see the dining room was set for five. Evidently Mrs. White was to stay, which didn’t surprise him, but he wondered who the fifth would be.
“May we show you around, Mr. Hawkins?” Miss Caldwell asked.
Henry turned his full attention on her at last. His memory
To his surprise, the trim on the brick structure had been painted a clean beige, unremarkable if not for the darker trim at the windowsills. An outward improvement that might help him resell the place.
Not far away was a restaurant with living quarters above, and on the other side of that a single-story tavern, with a sign in the window advertising a pawnbroker on the premises. Likely it wasn’t just a tavern, though they probably did sell drinks. Pawnbrokers went hand in hand with gambling rooms. Not exactly the worst of the businesses to be found within a few blocks, but definitely not intended to meet the needs of polite society.
“This is where you invested the bank’s money.” Henry’s wordswere as flat as the roof on a yet-to-be-demolished structure across the street, victim of a fire. A charred sign, which once advertised massages, hung at an odd angle.
“As Miss Caldwell explained,” Tobias began, while Henry took immediate satisfaction in seeing that he looked doubtful too, “she needs to be near the population she wishes to reach.”
“How will staying in this neighborhood free any one of them from what she hopes they will leave behind?”
“A good question, Henry. Let’s ask her, shall we?”
Tobias was already up the half-dozen stairs to the freshly painted threshold.
To Henry’s surprise, it wasn’t Dessa Caldwell who answered. It was Mariadela White, from White’s Mercantile.
“Come in, gentlemen!” she greeted them warmly, far more warmly than Henry would have expected, given their history. He’d never intended to damage White’s business all those years ago by offering his goods at a rate even Henry could barely afford. And it wasn’t generosity, either. It had been good, sound business practice for the plans he’d had in mind.
“Dessa will be down in a moment, but please, come inside. Let me take your hats.”
She did so, setting the items aside on a hook provided next to the door. The room was sparsely furnished—only a settee, a side chair, and a small table holding an oil lamp—but he could see an adjoining dining room that offered a table and more chairs. Nothing yet hung on any of the walls, but like the trim, these walls were recently painted, here a dull but unblemished gray. A carton sat off to the side of the dining room, next to the table. It appeared to be half-full of linens.
“What a pleasant surprise, Mrs. White,” Tobias said as he, like Henry, looked around. “We didn’t expect to see anyone but Miss Caldwell.”
“I’ve been helping her when I can.”
Though Henry said nothing, he recalled she had several children who, almost ten years ago, had been constantly underfoot and into mischief—part of the reason he was sure customers had preferred his quiet establishment just across the street. Likely those same children were valued employees by now.
Before Henry could think of a greeting of his own—one he wasn’t overly eager to extend anyway—the moment was lost in the warm welcome of Dessa Caldwell as she swept into the room from a hallway opposite.
“How happy I am to see both of you! Do you know Mrs. White?”
“Yes, of course,” Henry said, offering her a brief glance. “Though she banks with a competitor.”
Tobias laughed. “Yes, but we won’t give up hope, will we, Henry? It’s always a pleasure to see Mrs. White. Tell me, how are William and the family?”
A few moments of conversation followed, words Henry knew he was bound to forget before too many minutes passed, so he occupied his thoughts elsewhere. He could see the dining room was set for five. Evidently Mrs. White was to stay, which didn’t surprise him, but he wondered who the fifth would be.
“May we show you around, Mr. Hawkins?” Miss Caldwell asked.
Henry turned his full attention on her at last. His memory
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