Seeing her shudder, Dorcas smiled with satisfaction. A dark expression that had nothing to do with happiness. Looking into her face, Alice wondered what would make a supposedly godly woman want to inflict pain and discomfort. That had to be her motive.
Behind her, the red-haired man piped up. “No currants. Most folks just use raisins instead.”
Alice ignored him and worked to suppress a glare as she stared at Dorcas Potter. Inwardly seething, Alice plastered the pleasant expression she’d mastered for her father onto her face.
“Well Mrs. Potter, why did the blacksmith want to kill him? I can see you want to tell me.”
Dorcas gave an offended sniff but poured out the details. “His daughter was in the family way. After visiting young Doctor MacKenzie about a sore throat. Seems he diddled when he got the poor miss alone.”
That accusation ripped a gasp from Alice. The preacher’s wife flashed that dark grin and nodded. “Truly, Milly Murphy told us that was what happened. No reason not to believe her.”
“What was your reason for not believing Niall MacKenzie? I’m sure he protested his innocence.”
The Greek chorus bent their heads together and murmured. Dorcas Potter simply scowled, remaining tightlipped and silent.
Alice wasn’t done. “When this child came, did it resemble young Doctor MacKenzie?”
Still no answer. Alice pushed further. “Did it have his hair or eye color? His dimpled chin? Is the child tall?”
Finally, one timid woman spoke. “She’s a small little thing with the brightest red hair. I’ve only seen that color on one other family.”
As one, the chorus darted their eyes to the man behind the counter. He growled unintelligible words and fled through a curtain into another room.
Mrs. Potter declared vehemently, “Paul O’Hanlon promised he weren’t the pa of little Daisy. Put his hand on the Bible and swore it.”
Sighing sadly, Alice faced the woman. She wanted their eyes to connect when she spoke. “People lie, Mrs. Potter. Even when they put their hands on that sacred book. They swear on the Bible and then lie in court every day, after all.”
The chorus talked loudly now amongst themselves. Alice heard snatches. Phrases like makes sense and explains the girl’s tears when he swore it swirled like a cloud of dust around Alice. She stayed silent and allowed them to consider the facts.
Behind her, someone politely cleared his throat. Turning, Alice saw a stranger. The older man wore a white grocer’s apron. His red hair was streak with gray, giving him a distinctive look.
“Miss, my son tells me you only need to pay. He has your order together. Since he’s gone on an errand, I don’t want you to have to wait.”
Alice tipped her chin and narrowed her dark eyes. “That was a sudden errand, Mr. O’Hanlon.”
Giving a soft sniff, she opened her reticule. “Please tell me the amount. Oh, and I need a cane.”
The man stepped to her side of the counter and led her to the far corner. Seeing them, a very unladylike snort erupted from Alice.
“Of course, the item farthest from the door would be what a person needs to walk. You might be kind and put these closer to the front.”
The proprietor gave her a blank look and gave a pacifying nod. Without saying anything, he waited for her to select one of the plain, wooden sticks or one with the curved handle.
Pulling out a polished maple cane with a curved handle, she tested it against her height. It fit well enough that she easily walked back to the counter. At least easily compared to her previous limping gait.
Dorcas Potter tartly commented to the women around her. “I suppose when a body’s that crippled, you take what job falls your way.”
Counting silently, Alice ignored the woman. There was truth in what she’d said after all, but that didn’t mean Alice needed to be baited into a confrontation.
After Mr. O’Hanlon named an amount that was less than half of what Niall gave her, Alice sighed with relief. “Please cut three yards of the white dotted Swiss fabric, sir. Enough, I think for making curtains?”
Her voice ended on a question as she looked to the timid woman who first mentioned Paul O’Hanlon. Hearing the question in Alice’s voice, the woman stepped to the bolt of fabric.
Her mousy tone had disappeared when she spoke, and she fingered the material as she did. “It’s wide fabric, and I’d say two yards should do it, lessen’ you want to make a valance. Valances do look right pretty.”
Alice agreed and told the man to cut the three yards. As he did so, the woman introduced herself to Alice.
“I’m Etta Larson. My man heads a loggin’ crew, and he’s gone most times.”
Alice nodded, not sure what to say. Her silence didn’t bother Mrs. Larson. The woman only smiled and continued on.
“I’ve time aplenty if young Doctor MacKenzie needs a woman to do the heavy cleaning. And I’d be that thankful for the work.”
They set a time for Etta, as she insisted Alice call her, to arrive the next day. After that, Alice paid the older man and followed him to the buggy. He loaded her order and tipped his head as he thanked her. Mr. O’Hanlon was even gentleman enough to help her into the buggy.
As Alice set the horse into motion, she caught a movement behind her. With a turn of her head, she saw that Dorcas Potter stood in front of the store. The woman actually waved a fist.
What a welcome to her new community!
Chapter 5
“Well, I suppose you heard the worst of it in that town.”
Niall’s gloomy words met Alice as she opened the back door. He sat at the kitchen table, staring down at its scarred top as he spoke. At his refusal to
