A Northern Light(77)

"I wouldn't be."

I turned around, startled by the new voice. It was Martha Miller. She and Belinda Becker had joined our group. Belinda looked like she'd smelled something bad. Martha's face was pale and pinched.

"I hope you have a dowry, Mattie Gokey. A good one," Martha said.

"Unlike some around here, Mattie doesn't need a dowry," Minnie retorted.

"Nor when she has such nice big bosoms," Fran said, giggling.

I turned crimson and they all giggled. Even Belinda. Not Martha, though. She just looked at me with eyes that were hard and mean. I saw that they were puffy, too. She'd been crying.

"Royal's the second-eldest," she said. "Dan will get the bulk of the Loomis farm one day. But the Loomis land borders your father's, doesn't it, Mattie?"

"Martha, come on. Let's go," Belinda said.

Martha paid her no mind. "If Royal marries you, he might be able to get his father to give him a few acres, and your father, too. Maybe ten or fifteen altogether. Why, he might even get your father's whole farm one day. After all, Lawton left and he's not coming back, is he?"

"Martha!" Belinda chided, tugging on her arm. Martha shrugged her off.

"And then there's Emmie Hubbard's land," she said. "Twelve acres. Nice the way it nestles in between the Loomises' land and your father's, isn't it? Funny, too, how it just happens to be up for auction next month."

"Oh, who cares, Martha? Whyn't you go poison the punch or something?" Fran said.

My blood froze up inside me. "What are you saying, Martha?"

"Emmie doesn't pay her taxes on time for four or five years running and nobody cares. Now, all of a sudden Arn's auctioning her land. You don't wonder about that?"

"Only because there's an interested party," I said, remembering Aunt Josie and Alma Mclntyre steaming Emmie's letter open. "Someone inquired. Someone from the city looking for cheap land."

Martha smiled. "Oh, there's an interested party all right, but he's not from the city. He lives right in Eagle Bay and his name is Royal Loomis."

Fran burst into laughter. "You sure are a horse's ass, Martha. Royal doesn't have that kind of money."

"No, but his mother does. Iva's been saving for two years. Skimming a quarter here, fifty cents there off the egg money or the butter money. She stitched up two quilts over the winter and sold them to Cohen's. She took in sewing for the summer people, too. She's the one who pushed Am to slap a lien on Emmie. She wrote his boss down in Herkimer. Said it wasn't fair that Emmie got to slide all the time when everyone else paid their taxes."

"Why'd she do a thing like that?" Ada asked.

Martha shrugged. "She's got her reasons. She's also got herself a nice little bundle and she's giving it to Royal so he can buy the Hubbard land and farm it. And like I said, a few acres as a wedding gift from your pa, Mattie, and Royal's pa, too, would round it out nicely, wouldn't it?"

I couldn't answer her. The words stuck in my throat like burrs.

"Thought you were so smart, didn't you, Mattie? You, with your head always shoved in a book. Royal says you know a lot of words, but you don't even know how to please..."

"Martha, you say one more word and I'll slap your mouth right off your face," Fran said. "I swear to God I will."

"Come on, Martha, let's go. Dan's waving for me," Belinda said. She pulled on her friend's arm again and they left.

"Don't you mind her nonsense, Matt. She made it all up. She's so jealous over Royal, she's pissing vinegar," Minnie said.

"Discourse!" It was Weaver. He'd come up behind me.

I looked at him, dazed. "Gossip," I said dully. "Embroider. Fabricate. Tell lies. To others. Or yourself. Especially yourself. "

"What? That's way off, Mattie. I'll give you another shot. You miss it again, you're dead as a—"

"Oh, go away, Weaver!" Minnie snapped. "This is girls only!"

"Jeez, Minnie, bite my head off, why don't you?"

"Go on! Get lost!"

All the pride I had felt earlier, over Royal carrying the pies to me and people seeing him do it, vanished like a spooked doe. I felt sick. My friends could stick up for me and say all the nice things they wanted; it didn't matter. All I could hear was Royal's voice telling me, "Your pa oughtn't to clear those northern acres of his ... he's got good blueberry bushes up there..." I felt such a fool for thinking that he might try to see past plain brown hair and plain brown eyes to what was inside of me. Or value what he saw.

"Come on, let's get some dessert. Cook won't know. Fireworks are going to start soon and I'm dying for a bite of that shortcake," Ada said, trying to jolly me.

"I'm not very hungry—," I began to say, but Minnie cut me off.

"Oh, Mattie, don't fret so. You'll have the last laugh when you're married with ten children and your own house and farm and she's still a sour old maid picking up the hymnbooks after her father's service."

I forced a smile.

"Hey, Matt, is Cook going to let you watch the fireworks?" It was Royal.

We all looked at him—myself, Minnie, Ada, and Fran. Not one of us said a word.