- Claire’s Warning -
“What happened to you?” Charlie asked Justin when he walked in the door.
Father jumped up. “Justin, did you get into a fight?”
“Your pants are torn and … you’re bleeding!” Mother grabbed a clean dish towel, ran water over it, and began wiping the dirt from Justin’s knees, which were poking through his ripped trousers.
“Two boys got hold of me,” Justin told her. “Patrick Cahill and Four Fingers Foley.”
“Not those ruffians!” Charlie shook his head. “Man alive! You sure got yourself into a fine fix.”
“I’ll bet you went right down to Wells Street, despite what I said,” Mother muttered.
“I didn’t want to let Poppy go down there by herself.” Justin cringed as his mother swabbed iodine on his cuts.
“That girl can take care of herself,” Father said. “She’s one of them.”
Claire, who had been standing by quietly, finally spoke up. “I think Justin was trying to protect her—like a gentleman should.”
“He shouldn’t be associating with anyone like her,” Charlie said. “She’s trouble.”
“Well … just because she’s poor doesn’t mean she’s trouble,” Claire argued. “I think there’s good in her.”
“Oh, you’d think there was good in … the devil himself,” Charlie said.
“I think there’s some good in everyone,” Claire shot back.
“That’s ’cause you’re marrying a preacher,” Charlie insisted. “You’re a dreamer, Claire.”
Claire was about to flare up when Mother interrupted. “It’s better to be like Claire, Charles, and to look for the good in everyone.”
Charlie is such a know-it-all, Justin thought as he sat at the table. Mother served him up a bowl of stew. “Let’s not talk about Poppy anymore,” he said. “I’d just as soon forget everyone from Conley’s Patch.”
No one spoke for a while, and then Justin changed the subject. “So, how did Mrs. Palmer like the emerald, Father?”
“She thought it was just the thing,” Charlie answered.
“I was asking Father,” Justin snapped. He’d had enough of Charlie for one night.
“Yes, she was pleased,” Father agreed. “She likes the setting, so now I just have to secure the emerald into the pendant.” He looked over at Charlie. “Mrs. Palmer wants me to create a tiara in diamonds for a Christmas party. Why don’t you do a few designs, Charlie? It would be good practice, and I think you’d come up with something she’d like.”
Charlie grinned, obviously happy with his father’s suggestion. “Do you really think I have the artistic flair that you do?”
There he goes, hinting for more compliments, Justin thought. Why doesn’t Father give me a chance to design something? It’s always Charlie!
“Absolutely,” Father said. “When I retire, I want to be sure my son …” He cleared his throat. “I mean, sons … will carry on. In fact, I’m hoping our business will become well known throughout the country. Perhaps you’ll open a shop in Boston, or New York—”
Justin interrupted. “Maybe I could be in charge of one of them?”
Charlie laughed. “And will you bring your goat with you? I can see it now. New York City. ‘Butterworth’s Jewelry’ in big letters.” He gestured grandly with his hands. “And a goat tied up by the doorway.”
Everyone at the table burst out laughing—except for Justin. “I’m going out to check on Ticktock,” he grumbled. “And if I ever had a business, yes, I would bring her. She’s a lot better company than some people I know.” He picked up a lantern from the side table and headed out.
“Don’t get that goat excited,” Father called after him. “Each time you go out there at night, she cries for an hour after you leave.”
When Ticktock heard Justin coming, she ran to meet him. He set the lamp on the fence post and undid the latch. As soon as the gate opened, the little goat pushed her head under Justin’s arm.
“You are my best friend, aren’t you, girl?” Justin whispered. “Did you hear them all laughing at me in there?” Justin put his cheek against Ticktock’s neck and the goat nibbled on his collar. Charlie makes me spitting mad, Justin thought. He’s such a bigwig with his sales pitch and his smooth talk. Father says Charlie will run the store someday. He doesn’t even consider that maybe I could be a jeweler. Nobody gives me a chance to do anything except sweep the floor. I’ll bet Charlie doesn’t know half as much as I do about geology and gemstones and their cleavage and refraction.…
Justin rubbed his belly where Fingers had punched him. “And then there’s Poppy. Father and Charlie think I’m plumb loco to be bothered with her,” Justin said aloud. “Maybe I was stupid to go down to Conley’s Patch, but I was trying to do the right thing and not leave Poppy when those tough eggs showed up.” Justin sniggered when Ticktock’s tongue tickled his ear—but only for a second, because tears came rushing into his eyes. He fought to hold them back. No way would he cry. Only sissies and babies cried. He’d be called a sissy for sure if Charlie saw him crying.
“I’ll be okay, Ticktock,” he murmured. “I’ll show them all someday … I’ll do something that will make them real proud—and sorry, too—for treating me like that.”
“Justin?” Claire was standing by the fence. “Are you hungry? I brought you a pastry.”
Had she heard what he’d been saying to Ticktock? “I’ve had enough pastries,” Justin said, “but thank you.”
“Are you all right, Justin?”
“I’m fine.” Justin jumped up and brushed off his hands. “I was just saying good night to Ticktock.”
“She’s sweet and I can see why you love her.” Claire opened the gate, came into the enclosure, and then sat on the threshold into the shed. “Come here, Ticktock.” The little goat turned and headed to Claire to nuzzle her hand. “It looks like your goat wants the pastry.”
“Let her have it. I’m not hungry,” Justin said.
Claire held it out and the goat took it eagerly but gently from her hand. “Good girl. Good, sweet little kid,” Claire crooned. Ticktock’s tongue flickered out, looking for more.
“You did the right thing, staying with Poppy,” Claire said.
“I know.”
“Poppy shouldn’t be living down there. Did you go to her house?”
“No. She insisted I leave. She said Ma Brennan would take care of her.”
In the lamplight, Justin could see sadness in Claire’s face. “Poppy cried and told me all about her life when she was in my room. She doesn’t want to live with Ma Brennan. She wants to run away.”
“Who’s Ma Brennan, anyway?”
“Ma Brennan teaches girls to steal for her.” Claire stood up. “From what I’ve heard, Ma Brennan is a wicked woman.”
“Poppy told me Ma Brennan beats her.” Justin swallowed the lump he felt in his throat. “I … I kind of feel sorry for her. She’s tough but …”
“She’s had to be tough to survive. If that woman is Poppy’s guardian, the poor child hasn’t had much of a life. No wonder she fell apart when I gave her a dress. She’s never had any loving attention.”
Justin felt a sick feeling in his stomach. “Do you think Poppy is a … pickpocket? Do you suppose she’d steal from us?”
Claire put her arm around Justin’s shoulder. “I think Poppy is torn between wanting to do what’s right and having to do what’s wrong. I so wish I could help her.” Claire bent over and kissed her brother’s cheek. “You must be careful, Justin. You don’t know where this friendship with Poppy might lead you—especially if she lives under Ma Brennan’s thumb.”