Under the Bottle Bridge by Jessica Lawson

Author:Jessica Lawson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

Above the Cooper’s Door

In 1720 the only known case of accidental domestic homicide in Gilbreth occurred when the neighbor of Elias Treat hit her husband and her brother-in-law over the head with a cast-iron pot after they came home late from Three Dogs Tavern, having gambled much of the money meant to buy a heifer, a hog, and five goats. The only other multiple homicide recorded in Gilbreth history was the horrific attack at what is now the Trawleys’ cooper establishment.

—From Gilbreth History: Founding Families & Artisanal Traditions (Gilbreth Welcome Center, $16.99)

The front door was locked.

The cooper’s shop was one of the buildings originally built on the square, with the west-facing wall made of rough blocks of time-hewn fieldstone and the rest made of solid oak. It was on a corner where a street met up with Town Square’s circle.

When I knocked, there was no answer. A brief jog along the street and survey of the Village Green told us that Ms. Trawley was in the midst of giving a barrel-making demonstration, surrounded by a handful of kids who’d be helping her during Autumnfest.

“Above the door,” Grace muttered, peering up. She’d looked more than surprised when we asked Mrs. Finnegan to let her go, but also pleased.

The door was a relatively new one by Treat standards, built by my great-grandfather and painted a midnight blue. Outside the one front window was a flower box stuffed with yellow and red autumn mums. Above the doorframe was a rusty horseshoe with a sprig of herbs in the center, and above that was a window.

I reached up and tugged on the herbs. “What’s this?” An empty bucket stood beside the doorway. I turned it over, stepped on top, and lifted the sprig of short green needles. A deep set of letters and numbers was beneath it, carved neatly between the sides of the horseshoe: T. TREAT—1710. It figured that one of my relatives had built this shop.

I could practically hear the carved name growling at me to go home and work on a woodcraft project that would be worthy of the family. Before it could make me feel too guilty, I let the herbs drop back over it.

Grace scrawled the letters and date into her small notebook. “Rosemary, I think.” She sneezed, then jotted down the message and the word “rosemary.” “Do any of the other messages relate to the shop or a door or rosemary?”

“No.” I glanced around the side of the building. “But there’s more than one door.”

The back area of the cooper’s shop was surrounded by an unlocked fence. Inside the fence was a tarped area stacked with wood and tools, a grassy area with dog dishes and toys, and a gravel path leading to the back door. Nothing was over it at all.

“Back to the front door?” Crash asked, his first words since Grace had joined us. He kept sneaking looks at her, which was annoying. I needed him to focus.

“Front door,” I agreed, hurrying back to the shop entrance.

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