A Mischief in the Snow - By Margaret Miles Page 0,40

to its Dutch door, recalling that Hiram would be off in Salem, for a brother there had recently fallen ill. Emily had informed her of this, standing before shelves full of odds and ends, when she'd paid a visit to purchase five pounds of dried cherries. Information, after all, was something Emily Bowers handled as often as provisions.

Not everything she heard, of course, was passed on to everyone. Speculating who might wish to know what was something requiring tact from a woman in her position, Emily herself was often heard to say. While some were eager for every little tidbit, others, including Mrs. Willett, were more particular.

Emily's eyes lit up as Charlotte entered the low room in front of the family's quarters. Clearly, she had something of interest to discuss. She put a hand on Charlotte's arm, and ushered her to one of a pair of padded benches covered in new chintz, next to the hearth. This was lately improved by the addition of an inset stove, which roared a welcome of its own.

“How was the pie?” Emily inquired.

“Once he'd eaten three helpings, Lem paused to tell me it was quite good. I enjoyed it as well.”

“I thought so. The best fruit we've seen in some weeks…”

Charlotte nodded, readying herself for the match.

“It's not the first time I've heard that young man's name mentioned today,” Emily informed her softly, her eyes glittering, like a squirrel's.

“Oh?”

“I see by your face that what I've heard may be true! What has Lem got to do with the death of Alex Godwin?”

“But how—!”

“I don't believe what some are saying, of course— even if the two of them did have a scuffle yesterday. Nothing more than high spirits, I'm sure. And drink, perhaps. A good many took too much, it seems. Two or three ladies have already been in this morning to complain of it. I couldn't go off to the ice with Hiram away, but I did hear that you, Mrs. Willett, and Mr. Longfellow, were there—and that you went back early this morning to haul the body down into Reverend Rowe's cellar! As soon as you went in to speak with him, Amos Flagg went to see who it was, but he wouldn't stay to find out how he died. The poor boy! Is there anything more you're at liberty to tell?”

Charlotte supposed there was no point in keeping back the rest, when it would soon be known to all. She wondered what Emily would think when she learned the truth. Taking a deep breath, she decided to find out.

“Oh, shocking!” Emily returned a minute later, though she did not seem to find the situation completely so. “All men, Reverend Rowe so often points out to us, are sinners… yet some to a far greater extent than others. One thing is sure—John Dudley won't be happy to be constable this day! But what are you going to do?”

“How do you mean?”

“I suppose you could get Henry back; after this, Lem can hardly stay with you. How my heart goes out to him! After all, he is one of us—though the Godwin boy was, too. Still, his family moved away so many years ago. And when he came back, it surely wasn't to be sociable! I hope he spoke more to the old women on the island than he did to the rest of us here.”

“Lem has gone there this morning,” Charlotte said calmly.

“To the island, Mrs. Willett?” For the first time, Emily Bowers showed real surprise.

“Without Alexander, who is there to assist them?”

“I hadn't thought of that. Who else would go up there? Not that it's far—yet who among us would feel welcome? And you know what they've said about the place for generations.”

“That it's haunted?”

“As if such things could happen, these days,” Emily sniffed. “But some do say they've seen things to make them wonder. Then again, those who live off to the north of the village tend to be less sensible than the rest of us, as you well know. With their country ways.”

“Did Alexander see anything unusual, I wonder?” Charlotte murmured, almost as if she thought aloud.

“Not that I know of, dear. And I know he was asked just that by Frances, long ago—I speak of my husband's sister, you know, who took the young man in when she felt she needed something more of a nest egg. She does have that house all to herself. He wouldn't pay much, but at least he was well behaved, for the most