As Eliza and I enter Lloyd's General Store, a large, brass bell on the doorframe announces our arrival. The boys are already inside, and we're greeted with an overwhelming waft of salted meats and leather. Gray light spills in from the picture window overlooking Main Street and a cast iron stove simmers in the corner, leaving a thin layer of soot over much of the merchandise.

Near the entrance, Kitty Lloyd leans against the cash drawer counter as she speaks with Sadie Clumb, their heads angled together like two babbling schoolgirls.

At the possibility of a customer, Mrs. Lloyd peers around the younger lady's shoulder and releases a bothered sigh.

"Oh, Victor—it's only you." She gives her friend a look of disinterest before making her way around the side board. "I need to start dinner soon so you'll have to watch over the—" She stops short and gasps. "For heaven's sake, you're a mess!" She plucks the hat from his head and tosses it to the side, then licks her fingers and slides them through his dark hair. "You'll be running this store one day. Appearances are everything."

"Awe, Ma. Would you stop, already?" Victor squirms under her touch. "What if I don't want to run the store? What if I want to do something else?"

"Like what—play baseball?" Mrs. Lloyd pinches his chin between her thumb and forefingers. "You'll run this store, young man, and that is that."

"But it's not fair!"

"Oh, quit your bellyaching. Fair is fair is fair." She spins on her heel, and returns to her chore of holding up the counter. "Your father and I worked our fingers to the bone getting this business off the ground. You'll thank us when you're not slaving away on some godforsaken farm somewhere," she says, shooting a tight-lipped grimace in my direction.

My head tilts, daring her to say more. She doesn't.

"Speaking of baseball..." Thomas eyes me with a silent warning. Saving me from my own tongue, no doubt. "We're sorry to bother you, ma'am. Victor just wanted to show us his baseball card collection."

"As if you gave me a choice," Victor mumbles under his breath.

"What baseball card collection?" Her nose wrinkles as if there's an unpleasant odor, and she shakes her head at Miss Clumb. "I promise you, I have no idea what these kids are talking about."

"You know," Honor adds with a wide grin, "the Charles Gardner Radbourn and Larry Corcoran cards that came in the packs of tobacco."

Mrs. Lloyd clucks her tongue. "Victor isn't to touch the tobacco, much less retrieve whatever poppycock is inside. Victor," she announces, obviously bored with the conversation. "Wash your hands and get to work. I don't have all day." She rubs her forehead as if warding off a headache, and continues talking to her friend.

A blush colors Victor's cheeks, creeping higher until the tips of his ears turn bright red. He refuses to look at us as he mutters in our direction. "You heard her. You have to leave now."

"I think we'll check out the packs of tobacco first. Not to buy, just to look." Thomas catches Victor's eye, and shoots him a knowing smirk. "Sure is funny about those cards though. Glad you're not a liar."

Victor doesn't respond. Instead, he disappears through the backdoor that separates the store from their home, while we meander off in the opposite direction. I pause at a nearby table to inspect the bottles of herbs and seasonings, a luxury my family can't always afford.

"As I was saying..." Mrs. Lloyd leans in closer to her friend, her interest in us lost. "He inherited that big, ole house from his mother's cousin. He obviously comes from wealth. Why, I'll bet his cloak alone could feed an entire family for a year!"

There's a mischievous tone to her voice, something I'm not used to hearing from her. She's usually stiff and emotionless. Like a dead fish.

"I'm telling tell you, Sadie, that man is a sight for sore eyes. Very distinguished-looking, though a bit peculiar if you ask me. His face is quite young, but his hair is as white as the snow outside! It's the oddest thing—although, it does suit him nicely. And the most interesting part is, he's not married."

"He's not?" Miss Clumb shifts her considerable weight, and presses a hand to her straw-colored hair. It's twisted into a fancy knot at the side of her head. "Eloise White said she saw him with a young lady."

Mrs. Lloyd lets out an unpleasant snort. "Eloise White? That woman's so old, she's lucky to know her head from a hole in the ground," she says. "At least that's one good thing about the Miltons being gone—I don't have to see that ole coot every day. She was at their house all the time, you'd have thought she lived there."

Miss Clumb dissolves into a fit of hysterical giggles. "Oh, Kitty! You're terrible."

"Well, it's true." Mrs. Lloyd lifts her chin. "Besides, I asked Mr. Baptiste if there was a missus and he confirmed there isn't—not that I'm gossiping, mind you. It's just what he said." She dismisses any fault with a flick of her hand. "I'll bet he's just dying for a female's assistance making that enormous house feel like a home," she adds with a sly grin.

I don't mean to eavesdrop but their chatter's impossible to ignore. There's only one house in South Harbor that fits that description. An old mansion near my family's property that's been vacant since before I was born.

A greedy expression slithers across Miss Clumb's face, like she just swiped the last piece of pie in a room full of starving people. She presses further into the counter, the edge cutting into her plump belly. "If a female is what he's looking for, I'm available to volunteer."

Their snickers build like water behind a dam until it spills over into full-blown laughter.

As my brother and friends join me at the spice table, I feign interest in a vial of cinnamon, when a sudden noise creeps up behind me.

"Kindly refrain from touching the merchandise if you do not intend to buy." Mrs. Lloyd yanks the bottle from my grasp and returns it to its place on the table. "We wouldn't want to tempt sticky fingers, now would we?"

"But I was only—"

She doesn't stop to listen. In one fluid movement, she shoves us out the entrance and into the cold. Just as I'm about to defend myself, the door slams in my face.

I know this chapter is short, but I cut it in half to keep it that way. I'll be posting the second part in just a few days. In the meantime, I hope you're enjoying the artwork (ignore the nonsense words on the store lol)! Thank you for reading. 🧡