Scruples and Drams by Cynthia Stupnik

Author:Cynthia Stupnik
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: North Star Press of St. Cloud, Inc.
Published: 2015-05-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Spiritus vini rectificatus (SVR)

Rectified Spirit

Jennie climbed up into the carriage and sat next to Claire.

“So, which way do you think we should go? We can possibly get home before it gets too dark if we head east a bit and then southeast.”

“Jennie,” Claire interrupted, “I realize it’s getting late, and I hate to ask this, but could we please stop over at the Higgins place? I’d like someone to look in on Mrs. Frank. We aren’t going much out of our way.” Pointing across the field, Claire said, “You can see the farm from here.”

“Of course. Mrs. Frank needs someone to look in on her,” Jennie agreed. Trying not to worry, she asked, “How do we get there from here?”

“I think we’d better get back out on the road.”

Jennie shook the reins, “Let’s go, Solly.”

“Sorry, Jennie. We’re racing against time here, but that woman can’t take care of herself. She’s in her late sixties or early seventies. He’s older, but as you heard, they’ve no family here. She’s needing help, but his foolish pride probably won’t let her ask for it.”

“Of course, you’re right. I’m glad you thought of it, and I’m sure it won’t take us that much longer,” Jennie said, looking at the sun in the lower sky.

“We have to turn left here,” Claire directed as they reached the end of the rugged pathway. “See where the road turns south up ahead? We have to go a short ways down there, past a small swamp, and then turn down Higgins’s long driveway. It’s no more than a half mile from here.”

Jennie pulled on the rein so Solly would turn. The wind had picked up a bit, blowing the horse’s black mane to the side. He looked back at Jennie and blinked as if he, too, were a bit concerned about the lateness of the day.

When they neared a slight incline, Claire said, “This here’s Grandma Hayes’s place, Alice Leonard’s grandmother.”

Jennie saw a tiny building, little more than a gray, two-story log shack, with its roof caved in over its tiny porch. “Oh, it is small, isn’t it?”

“Did ya know, Jenne, Alice were brought back here after she were found dead on the side of the road. It’s in shambles now, for sure. Grandma Hayes’s daughter Mary owns the place and kicked the whole family out after the girl were murdered.”

“Why?”

“All that blather in the newspapers about Mike Larkin living with Bridget Smith without benefit of a marriage license. Some say Grandma Hayes never got along much with her daughter Mary, so she moved in with Bridget and Mike Larkin after they got married. His place’s north of here. ”

Near the road, a small swamp was full of life. A hen mallard glided across the water with eight downy ducklings following her. As if on stilts, a tall, blue heron stepped out of the tall reeds and grasses and waded into the water. Red-winged blackbirds hopped from cattail to cattail. A meadowlark warbled his flute song claim to the territory.

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