Firestorm! Page 5

  Justin jostled Poppy through the back room. “Why’d your dad show me the exit?” Poppy demanded. “I ain’t seen those rocks you promised to show me—the ones that grow jewels.”

  Justin peeked into the sales room, where both his father and Charlie were busy showing Mrs. Palmer the necklace.

  “Quick, come here.” Justin took Poppy’s hand and pulled her toward the window, where his geode collection was set on the sill. He picked a round rock that had been sawed in two, then opened the top. “Look what’s inside.” He handed the bottom half of the stone to Poppy.

  “Oh my stars and garters!” Poppy exclaimed. “Look at all them purple jewels. They are growin’ out of the rock!”

  Justin nodded. “Just as I told you. Those crystals are amethysts.”

  “Are you takin’ them out of the rock to make jewelry?”

  “No, they’re not perfect stones. I collect geodes just for fun.” Justin looked around and could see that his father was still with Charlie and Mrs. Palmer. The door to his father’s office was open, as was the safe. “Stay here,” he said to Poppy. Then he slipped into the office and pulled a big velvet bag out of the safe.

  “If you think those amethysts are pretty, then take a look at this.” He opened the bag by the back window and let the jewels trickle through his fingers in the sunlight.

  The sunbeams burst in a dozen rainbows as they touched the diamonds, topaz, and a huge ruby.

  Poppy gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh! I ain’t never in all my borned days seen anything so gorgeous. They’re like somethin’ you’d see in a queen’s crown … or in a fairy tale. I can’t ever believe anything so beautiful could come out of the dirty ground.”

  “Well, they usually have to be cut and polished when they’re first mined. But they really do come out of mines deep in the earth.” Justin pulled the cord that closed the bag and shoved it back into the safe in the office. “You ought to see the emerald Father’s showing Mrs. Palmer. It’s as big as an egg.” He glanced toward the door to the sales room again. “You’ve got to leave, Poppy, before I get in trouble.”

  “All right, I’m leavin’.” Poppy followed Justin to the back door.

  Justin unlocked the door to the courtyard with the key that his father had left in the lock. “That’s Father’s most important customer in there,” he said as he opened the door and shoved Poppy outside. “It’s the Mrs. Palmer—you know, the high-society lady.”

  “You mean the rich Mrs. Palmer what owns the big hotel?”

  “That’s the one.” Justin headed over to Ticktock, who was curled up on the dry grass with her head tucked down and eyes closed. “Here’s my goat.” He looked over to Poppy, but she was just standing there, looking down at her feet. One shoe was missing.

  “Oh, dear. When your dad pushed us, he knocked off my shoe. I’m goin’ back for it.” She headed for the door that led into the back room.

  “No, you can’t go in there again. Father will get mad.”

  “I need my shoe.” Before Justin could grab her, Poppy had opened the door and slipped into the back room.

  “Come out of there, Poppy!” Justin ran after her, but she had already retrieved her shoe and was sitting on the step, pulling it on.

  Charlie opened the door. “Who was just in the store?”

  “Poppy left her shoe inside,” Justin answered.

  “Go on home, Justin. And take the goat with you,” Charlie called as he closed the door. “And send Poppy home, please.”

  “I know when I’m not wanted,” Poppy said, her nose in the air. “I’m leavin’ right now.”

  MONDAY EVENING,

  OCTOBER 2, 1871

  CHAPTER NINE

  - Poppy’s Nice-Girl Dress -

  Poppy patted the pocket on her old pinafore dress where she had slipped the matchbox of wax. How smart she’d been to leave her shoe inside the jewelry shop—a perfect excuse to go back, remove the key from inside the back door, and make a quick impression in the wax. She was as fast as greased lightning and replaced the key before anyone even knew she’d touched it.

  Justin’s father treated me like dirt, sending me away from his highfalutin store. Well, he’ll be sorry when I get inside and help myself to whatever I want—like those sparkly jewels. I felt like I was in a dream when I saw them, ’cept they were real. Maybe those jewels are magical and they can get me away from Chicago! And I’ll never have to steal anything again.

  She grinned. Ma would be proud of me if she knew I have an impression for a key to that shop. But I’ll never let her know. She’d keep it all and I’d end up with a bag of penny candy.

  “Poppy! Poppy!” Justin called after her. “Are you listening?”

  “What?” she answered crossly, coming to a stop.

  “I asked you if you’d like to go to my house. My sister, Claire, made pastries today.” Justin glanced at Poppy. “So do you want to come? It’s not too far. Just a couple of miles.”

  Poppy shrugged. “I guess so. She’ll probably throw me out, too.”

  “She won’t. Come on.” He had leashed his goat and was heading for the street. “I hope you’re not scared of my father.”

  Poppy followed along in a grumpy pout. “I ain’t a-scared of anyone.” She stopped and looked Justin straight in the eye. “Your dad don’t want me in his store ’cause I’m a street girl from Conley’s Patch. Right?”

  Justin turned away from her gaze. “Well, he does have real important people coming to his shop.”

  A woman stopped to pet Ticktock and asked her name.

  “Ticktock—like a clock,” Justin answered. “My dad’s the watchmaker and jeweler on State Street.”

  “I know that place. I’ve heard your father is an excellent jeweler and watchmaker,” the woman commented. “And I remember your grandfather, too, when he ran the shop. I hear he’s retired and moved out to the prairie.” She patted Ticktock again. “What a delightful little kid—and what a charming name for your goat.” The woman waved good-bye.

  How come people treat Justin—and even his goat—better than they treat me? Poppy wondered as they started walking again. She glanced at her faded, worn dress with a hole under the arm. Everyone can tell I’m a nobody. Even my mother didn’t want me. Poppy kicked a stone off the wooden sidewalk. And here I am, going off to Justin’s house. His sister will probably go plumb crazy when she sees me tagging along.

  Still, Justin showed me the jewels. I don’t think he’d do that for everybody. I think he likes me—kind of.

  Poppy suddenly felt sad. Here she had made a wax of the key so she could return and rob the store. Justin would be mad if he ever found out … and he wouldn’t like me anymore.

  They hadn’t talked much during the long walk and already they were turning onto a driveway. Justin pointed out his house. “It’s this white one. We’ll take Ticktock to the side where I keep her, and then I’ll bring you inside to meet my sister and my mother, too.”

  They walked up the driveway and into the side yard.

  “I’m not goin’ in,” said Poppy. “I’ll wait outside with your goat.”

  Justin ignored her as he unlatched the gate into the goat’s pen. “Take a look at Ticktock’s shed. My father and Charlie helped me build it.” He unleashed his goat, who ran to a pail of water next to the shack.

  Poppy took in a quick breath when she saw the neat red and white shed. It even had a window and a real door! She peeked inside to see a pile of fresh hay and a quilt folded on a shelf. A bucket with brushes was on another shelf. “I ain’t never seen a goat house before. I’m thinkin’ that goats have it better than some people.”

  Justin took out a large brush from the bucket inside the shed and began brushing Ticktock’s bristly coat. The goat rubbed against the brush, then nudged Justin gently with her head. When he had finished, Justin stood and crossed his arms on his chest. “So what do you think about goats for pets now that you’ve seen my kid?”

  Poppy had to agree that Ticktock was rath
er sweet, the way she trotted alongside Justin. “I’ll allow that goats do make good pets—and pretty lucky ones, too, to have a house of their own and someone to care for them.” She watched as Ticktock looked up at Justin, watching his every move and following him wherever he went. “She likes you a lot.”

  “Yep, she does.” Justin bent down and hugged the goat. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you, Ticktock?” The goat nuzzled Justin’s face and neck and nibbled on his hair. Justin laughed and pushed her away.

  Poppy couldn’t help laughing, too. “I heard goats eat anything. Looks like she wants to eat you!”

  “Justin!” someone called from the house. “Are you coming in? Are we going to meet your friend?”

  “It’s my sister, Claire. She always wants me to introduce new friends.”

  Poppy cringed at the word “introduce.” What did he mean? What should she do? Shake hands? Curtsy? No one had taught her how to be introduced. “No, I’ve got to go home,” she said.

  Claire came down the front steps of the house and walked to the pen. “Hello,” she said, putting out her hand. “I’m Justin’s sister, Claire. What is your name, dear?”

  “I’m Poppy,” Poppy replied, taking Claire’s hand.

  “Poppy … ?” Claire waited for Poppy’s last name.

  “Um. Brennan.”

  “Won’t you come in?” Claire asked. “Justin knows I made pastries for a church fair this weekend—and there’s plenty to spare.”

  Poppy allowed herself to be coaxed inside to a large, round oak table in the center of the kitchen. Another woman was stirring what smelled like chicken soup on the stove.

  “This is our mother, Mrs. Butterworth,” Claire said. “Mother, this is Justin’s friend, Poppy Brennan. She came to visit.”

  Mrs. Butterworth took a quick look at Poppy from head to foot, and Poppy was sickeningly aware of her soiled dress and pinafore, the rip under her armpit, and the shoes that didn’t quite match.

  “Please excuse my appearance, Mrs. Butterworth,” Poppy said. “All my clothes are at the laundry.” She smiled, showing her teeth as Ma Brennan had taught her. That smile will charm anyone, Ma always said.

  “Oh, I see.” Mrs. Butterworth and Claire exchanged glances. “Perhaps Claire can help you out. You have some things that you’ve outgrown that might fit Poppy, don’t you? Since her clothes are all at the laundry?”

  “Why, yes, I do, as a matter of fact. There’s a sweet dress that might just fit you.”

  Poppy couldn’t speak. A dress? For me?

  “Come with me, dear,” Claire said, taking Poppy’s hand. “I think you’d look wonderful in that dress.” She guided Poppy out of the kitchen and into the hall.

  Mrs. Butterworth said, “While you try the dress, I’ll set out some of Claire’s pastries.”

  Poppy followed Claire to a bedroom off the hall. Poppy stood in awe at the shiny brass bed, covered with a pure white spread. The late afternoon sun glistened through the windowpanes, casting a mellow light on a hand-braided rug. On the windowsill were several rocks.

  “You collect jewel rocks too?” Poppy asked.

  “Yes, I have a small collection. I love to see the shiny sparklers tucked inside.” Claire took a rock from the sill and handed it to Poppy. “See this gem?” She pointed to a dark green crystal that was part of the rock. “This is tourmaline. It came from Maine.”

  Poppy held the stone in the sunlight. “There’s a green rainbow inside.”

  “Yes. It collects the sunbeams and shines them back in pretty colors,” Claire said as she set the rock back on her windowsill.

  Claire then opened a maple chest at the foot of her bed and pulled out a forest green dress made of some soft, warm material. The collar and sleeves were trimmed with a heavy crocheted lace. “This was a dress my grandmother made for me, when I was about your size. I always loved it.” Claire held the dress up to Poppy. “Oh, yes, this will fit, I’m sure.”

  Poppy’s hands shook as she touched the downy fabric. “This is right … grand.” Was she supposed to pay for the dress? Or were they giving it to her? Why? They didn’t even know her.

  “Take off your pinafore, and then I’ll help you with your dress,” Claire said.

  Poppy undid the pinafore and felt the box of wax, which was still deep in the pocket. She put the pinafore carefully on the bed so the box would not fall out.

  Claire undid the few buttons that closed the back of Poppy’s bodice, and her unsightly dress dropped to the floor. As Poppy stepped out of it, Claire picked it up warily and tossed it aside. Then she slipped the green gown over Poppy’s head, buttoned the back, and straightened the skirt. “Oh, Poppy! It’s a perfect fit. And to think I was about to send it down to the church fair tomorrow.”

  Poppy turned to look in the tall mirror that stood by the bureau, but Claire pulled her away. “No, don’t look at yourself yet.” Claire took a wide-toothed ivory comb and a green ribbon from the dresser drawer, and after combing Poppy’s hair until it was smooth over her shoulders, she tied it back with the ribbon. “Now see yourself in the mirror, Poppy. You look lovely!”

  The girl in the mirror was a stranger—a pretty, good-girl kind of stranger. Not Poppy, the pickpocket. Suddenly Poppy swung around. “Are you giving me this dress?”

  “Of course!”

  “Why?” Poppy demanded. “Is this a trick?”

  “Why would I trick you?”

  “You just now met me and you’re giving me this dress. There’s got to be a catch to it somewhere,” she said accusingly. She ripped the ribbon from her hair and tossed it onto the bed.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Claire said. “Take the dress off and I’ll put it away with the other things for the fair.”

  Poppy looked at her image in the mirror again. A nice dress doesn’t make me a nice girl, does it? I’m still Poppy, the pickpocket.

  Suddenly she felt tears filling her eyes and overflowing down her cheeks. “Don’t you understand?” she whimpered. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Don’t cry, Poppy. I’m sorry I upset you. And you’re right. We just met and this is probably overwhelming.” Claire put her arms around Poppy. “There, there. Don’t cry.”

  Poppy dropped her head onto Claire’s shoulder until her tears and sobs were finished.

  MONDAY EVENING,

  OCTOBER 2, 1871

  CHAPTER TEN

  - Trouble Brewing -

  Justin helped himself to another pastry. What was keeping his sister and Poppy? All she was going to do was try on a dress. Claire will be the perfect parson’s wife, Justin thought. Once she’d seen how needy Poppy was, she’d just had to come to the rescue. Still, Poppy sure could use some decent clothes.

  The front door opened and Charlie strode in. “I had a busy day at the shop,” he said as he put his hat and jacket on the hook by the door. “I’m plumb tuckered out.”

  “Your father is so proud of you,” Mother said. “You’re a boon to the business.”

  Oh, here we go again, Justin thought with a sullen frown. Charlie’s a boon to the business.

  Mother took a coffeepot off the stove and peeked inside. “There’s another cup of coffee in here, Charlie. Why don’t you have it with one of Claire’s pastries? Supper won’t be ready until your father gets home.”

  “Where is Father?” Justin asked, hoping Poppy would leave before his father arrived.

  “He’s working on the books. He should be home soon.” Charlie sat at the table and helped himself to a pastry.

  At that moment Claire and Poppy came into the kitchen. “Here she is in her new dress,” Claire said, gesturing to Poppy, who walked in slowly, looking at the floor. “Fits her perfectly!”

  “Oh, you look charming, Poppy,” Mother said as she handed the cup of coffee to Charlie.

  “Thank you,” Poppy said softly. “I ain’t never had a dress as nice as this.”

  Charlie was about to take a bite of his pastry when he stopped, looking puzzled. “Is th
is the girl who was at the store today?”

  “Yes,” Justin replied. “She’s the one.”

  Charlie was silent for a moment, and then he shrugged and commenced eating.

  “I wouldn’t have recognized you, either, had I met you downtown,” Justin said to Poppy. She was actually pretty with her coffee-colored hair pulled back with a ribbon, instead of hiding her face in unkempt strands.

  “It’s getting late,” Claire noted. “Won’t your family be worried, Poppy?”

  “No, ma’am,” Poppy said. “No one will miss me.”

  “Where do you live?” Charlie asked.

  Poppy looked down at her hands, which she was clasping and unclasping. “Up on Wells Street, near Clark.”

  No one spoke. Everyone knew that section of town was where Conley’s Patch was located—a dangerous place to be, especially at night.

  Mother began dishing chicken stew into a bowl. “Poppy, eat this soup now. And then head home full chisel. I think you can make it before dark.” She placed the soup, a spoon, and a large chunk of still-warm fresh bread in front of Poppy and made her sit down.

  Claire tucked a napkin into the neck of Poppy’s dress. “Here you go, love. Eat up. I think you could use a good meal.”

  Poppy glanced around, then began to eat, dipping the spoon and slurping the soup without a pause. When she finished, she looked up at Justin’s mother. “It’s right good, ma’am. The best soup I ever ate in my whole borned days.” She wiped her mouth with the napkin and then got up. “I’d better go.”

  Claire handed Poppy a satchel. “Here are your other clothes, Poppy.”

  Poppy took the bag and headed for the door. “Bye, Justin. I do like your goat.”

  “I’ll walk some of the way with you,” Justin said, looking to his mother for permission.

  “Just up to the next block,” Mother said, opening the front door. “And get back for supper.”

  Justin and Poppy walked down the street together, not saying much. “I’ll go a little farther with you and then I have to go back,” he told her.