hair, when Abram knocked.
As Molly pulled the door wide, he staggered in. Both women laughed, for he looked like a one-man marketplace. He carried a large basket piled high with fruit and vegetables, hams dangled from ropes about his shoulders, and each elbow was weighted with sacks of flour and sugar.
'Where on earth did you find it all?' Perry asked as she helped him unload.
'Never mind. I'm just bringing you two a few things.' He pulled sacks of apples and spices from his pockets. Then he unbuttoned his coat and handed Perry a small gun.
'I want you to keep this close by your side. That little knife of yours won't stop these men, and those dueling pistols will take too long to reload if there's a fight.' His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
Perry accepted the gun. She wouldn't have taken it, except Molly might need her help.
Molly was rummaging through the basket like a child at Christmas. She pulled out a fresh meat pie and shouted her joy.
Abram's face twitched in a smile. 'That was mighty fine potato soup, but I figure we could do with some-thing else. Hunter's cook made several tonight; she'll never miss one.'
As he spoke, Perry realized where the supplies had come from. She also knew no one in Hunter's house would have questioned Abram's actions. She watched Molly and Abram dividing the pie into thirds. A warm feeling of being home enveloped her as she joined them in the late-night feast. She was miles away from Wade and safe-for tonight.
Chapter 21
Perry tried to stand still as Molly pinned the hem of a newly made-over dress for her. This was the third one in a week that Molly had insisted she have from the seemingly endless supply in the attic. She giggled at her reflection in the mirror. The collar was high and the long double row of ivory buttons made her look very straitlaced and proper. The long sleeves hid her healing bruises. If it were not for the fear that the men who were trying to kill Molly might return, Perry would say she was happy for the first time in months.
'Hold still, child,' Molly mumbled through a mouthful of pins.
Before Perry could comply, Abram's familiar full-fisted knock rattled across the kitchen.
'I'll let him in.' Perry whirled across the large kitchen, ignoring the pins sticking out of her dress.
'I'll put a kettle on and see if the pie is done.' Molly shoved her sewing basket aside.
As usual, Abram was not empty-handed as he stumbled into the kitchen like a heavily laden street peddler. With a racket that surely alerted every mouse in the wall, he dropped his burdens on the table.
Looking over all the items, Perry announced, 'If you keep bringing us food, we'll have to open a dining house.'
'I just picked some things up on the way over.' He set a basket of apples down. 'I was hoping Miss Molly would make some of her delicious apple butter.'
All three laughed. Perry couldn't tell whether Molly loved cooking or Abram loved eating more, but his visits were welcome and probably the reason they hadn't heard from Henry's nephews.
The teakettle whistled and the smell of fresh peach pie filled the room. Abram relaxed with an at-home sigh and pulled a small box from his pocket. 'Miss Perry, I checked on this pendant you gave me.' He unfolded the small ornament from its wrappings. The gold-and-pearl jewelry looked tiny and fragile in his huge black hand.
Forcing her hands still in her lap, she waited with her hopes resting on the tiny piece of jewelry. She'd found the pendant in her mother's packet, along with a few rings and several legal papers. The pendant might bring several dollars to help Molly. The old woman's hospitality might be boundless, but her funds were not.
Abram leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee. 'It seems this piece is quite valuable. I talked to a man who would buy it and pay nicely.'
Perry's eyes widened in hope. 'Would its sale be enough to fix up the big house?'
'Oh, I think so. With a little left over to see you through a year's supply of food,' Abram answered.
'Wonderful.' Perry made up her mind. 'We'll have the house fixed up.' This was her chance to help Molly.
Molly's head was shaking so fast, her double chins couldn't decide which direction to follow. 'No, child, you keep your money. Even if we fixed the house up, how could we live? We won't always have Abram here bringing us food in exchange for my cookin', and just cleaning a place like this would take several days a week.'
Perry wanted to argue, but Molly was right. Opening the house would cost money, but keeping it up would be a constant drain. It had been a foolish idea. The sale of her mother's pendant would bring money for now, but what about later?
She'd racked her brain trying to think of some kind of employment she could seek. She always reached the same conclusions. With jobs hard to come by after the war, no one would hire a young woman without any references or experience. Though she had a good head for figures and had run a large plantation after her father's death, work for a Southern woman in the North might be impossible to find.
Sinking into silent depression, she stared at the fresh pie Molly set in front of her. There must be some way to make an honest living. She hadn't escaped Wade just to starve on the streets of Philadelphia. Of course, eating the best pie north of the Mason-Dixon line wasn't exactly starving.
An idea rang out in her mind like a bell. She almost choked on her pie in her sudden excitement. 'I've got it. We really
Perry burst into laughter at Abram and Molly's worried faces. They looked like two grown-ups who were afraid to shatter a tiny child's dream.
'Oh, don't you see? It's perfect. The house is huge, and most of the furniture is fine. The neighborhood is full of businesses, anyway. A nice dining house will be quite the thing.'
'But, Perry,' Abram said slowly, 'you'll need help.'
'Yes, lots,' Perry answered. 'With all the people out of work, that should be no problem.'
Abram and Molly looked at each other for a moment, then nodded in unison. They'd help in Perry's plan, not because they thought it such a great idea but because it brought back the sparkle in her beautiful brown eyes. They were both too old and wise to believe in dreams, but they believed in her. In minutes all three had their heads together, planning Philadelphia's newest dining club.
Abram soon decided Perry's plan had promise. He'd exaggerated the value of the pendant several fold, knowing Hunter's accounts would meet the difference. Now, if Perry could make the dining house a success, the profits would provide her with an income for as long as she needed it. Abram knew Molly's cooking would be a welcome change to most roadhouse food.
At the end of the night's discussion each of the three was forced into a promise. Molly would make sure the house was respectable, with no business upstairs. She agreed to convert four of the bedrooms into small private dining rooms. The other two bedrooms on the second floor would be Perry's and Molly's. The small sun room separating the two bedrooms would serve as the office.
Abram promised Perry to say nothing about where she was to anyone, including Hunter. In turn, Perry agreed to stay in the background so no guest would see her. As far as everyone would know, Molly would be the sole owner and resident of the house. Molly was salty enough to handle both thieving tradesmen and drunken guests.
For the next three days Molly and Perry were caught in a whirlwind of excitement. Molly found a mourning veil for Perry to wear so they could go about town without people staring at her blackened eye. The list of supplies seemed endless. After several trips they realized they would have to hire a man to help them right away. Cooks and waitresses could wait until later, but strong arms were needed now. It wouldn't be easy finding just the right man to hire. He had to be someone they could trust to live under the same roof with them.
The sun hadn't cleared the rooftops when the women set out to find just such a handyman. As they neared a factory only a few blocks away from home, they saw a long line of men waiting outside the gates. The posture of many already reflected the defeat most would receive as soon as the doors of the factory were open. One, maybe two, would be hired. The rest would wander off to stand in another line, hoping that next time would be the lucky one.
