Chapter 7
POV: Sorcha
It felt weird walking into town without Mabel or the cart. The closer I got to the market, the more nervous I became, as though I were an imposter wearing someone else’s clothes and shoes.
Callum had given me ten pennies. Ten pennies to spend however I saw fit. He suggested I might go into Garth’s General Store and purchase a brush or comb.
That made me self-conscious, because he must have been embarrassed to marry someone whose hair hung like rats’ tails. I finger-combed it when I could, but without a cut, the ends stayed snarled. Still, it hardly mattered—I always twisted it up and pinned it with the hairpin I’d made myself.
I strolled past the street vendors before stopping in at April’s bakery. The minute she saw me, her eyes crinkled and a genuine smile spread across her face. I smiled back.
“How is Mrs. Sullivan?” she asked.
I froze in shock. Mrs. Sullivan? Was she still alive?
April burst out laughing. “Silly, I mean you.”
Comprehension dawned, and I giggled. “I’m fine, but this is all a bit strange.”
“I’m sure, but I was oh so glad to hear you married Callum. You deserve someone who will treat you right and look after you.” She waved at the wares. “What are you buying today?”
“Um, a loaf of bread and two sesame rolls, please.”
Ever since my brother ate mine, I’d had a hankering for them.
“Coming up.” April wrapped them with a flourish, then frowned. “You don’t have a basket?”
I looked down, self-conscious. I didn’t—and hadn’t had the foresight to ask Callum whether he had one, although I remembered seeing one in the kitchen.
God, I was useless.
“I have a spare one here. You can bring it back next time, okay?” April offered.
“Thanks, that was silly of me to forget.”
I paid and left the store, thankful that April was such a kind person. One day, I would pay her back for all the kindness she’d shown me.
I had never been inside the general store, never even browsed, mainly because of Edith. She often stood at the entrance and insulted people she thought were below her. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside—immediately overwhelmed by all the aisles.
I walked along the furthest one from the till, but nerves kept me from really seeing what was on the shelves. It didn’t take long before Edith was breathing down my neck.
“Hmm,” she scoffed. “A monkey in a dress is a monkey no less.”
I ignored her and moved to the next aisle, where my gaze landed on brushes, combs, and ribbons of every color.
“Hello.” A voice echoed from the entrance.
Edith’s head snapped around, and she hurried to the front, leaving me blessedly alone. I tested the bristles of the brushes, tempted to try them on my hair, but I could just imagine Edith’s reaction.
I picked one with a dark handle and turned it over.
Two pennies. My father had taught me numbers so I wouldn’t be cheated.
The ribbons caught my eye—pretty, and only a penny for five.
The thought of color in my hair pleased me, so I chose five different shades before carrying everything to the counter.
The woman chatting with Edith was her friend, Charmaine, and I almost groaned in misery. They loved belittling me, but I would never show weakness in front of them, no matter what they said.
“Good Lord,” Charmaine sneered. “What did the cat drag in?”
“Can’t keep the trash out.”
I laid the brush and ribbons on the counter and hauled out my money.
“That’s twenty pennies,” Edith said with an evil grin.
“What?”
“You heard.”
“The price tag says two pennies for the brush and one penny for five ribbons,” I countered.
She tore the tags off. “Where?”
“We don’t need your business, understood?” Charmaine leaned in, her face twisted with enmity.
“Fine. I’ll go elsewhere,” I said nonchalantly.
Both laughed. “Go right ahead, nowhere else here stocks brushes.”
To them, I would always be a Quinn—trashy, unworthy. Marrying Callum didn’t erase their scorn; it only made it worse, but I had long since learned to live with that.
I walked out and headed for the butcher to buy the minced meat Callum had requested. He’d promised to wait before starting on Mabel’s shelter so I could help.
I walked home swinging the basket, thinking about last night.
After we’d had our tea, Callum asked whether I wanted to bathe, and I readily agreed. He showed me how it worked, cautioning me about the hot water faucet, then left me to it.
It was blissful to sit in a tub instead of the river, and I must have taken a long time because my fingers looked like prunes when I finally got out. The lash across my face had mostly healed, and I added a little more of the ointment Callum left for me.
The nightclothes Nora packed were a plain, full-length, long-sleeved dress, but it was surprisingly comfortable.
I climbed into bed and sank into the mattress, sitting up when I heard Callum filling the tub. Had he been waiting impatiently while I lounged in the water? Next time, I’d encourage him to go first.
The house came into sight, and my eyes drank him in, banging on some sort of metal. The wood was stacked neatly in the corner, and my heart swelled—he had kept his promise.
I rushed up, filled with excitement. “Callum?”
Our eyes met, and he smiled. “Did you get everything?”
I nodded. I had bought everything he’d requested. “Shall I put the meat in the icebox?”
“Whose basket is that?”
“Oh, I forgot to take one, and April loaned me this. I’ll take it back tomorrow. I wish I could make something to thank her, but…” I trailed off.
“I have lucky horseshoes,” Callum suggested.
“Yes, please.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I ran around and hugged him from behind. He stiffened, and so did I.
“Sorry,” I whispered, my cheeks heating.
“No need to apologise,” he mumbled, but his own cheeks were pink.
To cover my embarrassment, I hauled out the two sesame rolls. “I bought these because yesterday my brother gave me one, and then he ended up eating it himself. I had such a craving. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Let me help you pack this away.”
He took the basket, and I followed him into the kitchen, where he placed the meat in the icebox and covered the bread with a cloth.
Taking a hearty bite of the sesame roll, I watched as his smile shifted into a frown.
“You didn’t go to the general store?”
“Um…” I trailed off.
“Why?” His face grew stern.
“I didn’t like the brushes.”
If I expected him to solve every one of my problems, he’d lose respect for me. No, some things I had to handle on my own.
He stared at me for a long moment. “You don’t want butter or honey on your roll?”
“Ah, I forgot about that. But these are so fresh they taste wonderful.”
As he had yesterday, Callum cut a few slices of bread and placed them in the small basket before sitting down to eat his sesame roll.
“These are nice to eat plain,” he agreed.