Scattered Seeds Read Online Free Page A

a quill and ink from another drawer. “Names?”
    “McAdams. Edward and Robert McAdams.”

Chapter 3
    Conyngham returned the paper to the drawer. He wrote their false names on a passenger list and on two passes, which he then handed to them. “Any baggage?”
    “Naught but what we carry,” Edward said.
    “We sail with the tide on Thursday, weather permitting. Any questions?”
    “When can we board?” he asked, still inwardly celebrating the reduced fare.
    “Dawn, Thursday morning.”
    His triumph seeped away. “But, sir, that is two days from now. We have no lodging, and ye have the last of our coins in your box. Mayhap we could be of some use. We could cook or help ready the ship. I’m a cooper. My son and I are skilled carpenters. We could help load provisions.”
    “Believe me, my good man, after a minimum of seven weeks at sea, you will thank me for sparing you two days on board. I am truly sorry, but I can allow no passengers on my brig before Thursday. She’s being smoked this morning for loading on the morrow. I have no need of coopering or carpentry. We are well maintained and in need of no repair, and my crew are quite capable of fitting out my brig all by themselves. You might ask around at the inns and barter a day or two’s lodging in exchange for your labor.”
    Edward’s stomach churned. They could not waste money on lodging, yet sleeping in the open risked discovery. His face burned, but he offered no further argument. He nodded to the merchant and winked at Henry. “Come, Robert.”
    Once outside, Henry asked, “Where did ye get that money? And why did ye tell him our name was McAdams?”
    It was time to tell the whole of it. “I could nae use our gi’en names, because I did nae pay our hearth tax or the tithes. We’re outlaws now, Henry. We’ll be wanted for our unpaid debts, including the rent we owe your uncle. We must be on that boat and away, or else Conyngham keeps our coins and we rot in a jail . . . or worse. There’s no going back now.”
    “Is all our money gone?”
    “Most of it. The lowered fare helped.” With care, they would have enough to gain a foothold in Pennsylvania. “None to waste on lodging.”
    “The tavern where we saw the notices had rats aplenty. Mayhap we could offer to rid the keeper of the infestation.”
    “It’s worth a try. The work would be done at night. We’d run little risk of discovery.”
    They hurried back to the Laughing Cow, where a handsome proprietress sent clouds of dust billowing through the open doorway. Judging by the way she handled the brush, her modest clothes concealed a healthy physique.
    Edward rapped on the doorframe, startling her.
    “No,” she said, her whirling hand a blur. “Go away. There’s naught here for the likes of ye. Look to a Quaker for benevolence. Ye’ll find none wi’ me.”
    “It is nae benevolence we seek, woman,” Edward said, offended yet strangely charmed by her pluck. “We mean to work for our keep, and only two nights’ worth at that.” He smiled, amused by her belligerence and enchanted by her fiery eyes. He hoped her husband appreciated her.
    The woman leaned on her brush handle and studied him. “What can ye do?”
    He caught her inspecting him as he strode across the dingy room to rock a table. “Rickety tables mean spilled ale and grub, and spilled ale and grub means a mess to clean. I can fix that. The lad can redd up your storeroom, mayhap take care of the rats.”
    She pursed her lips and considered his offer, in truth, a mighty bargain. “Two nights, no more. First sign of drunkenness and ye’ll be oot on the street, mind. Ye’ll work at night so ye do nae disrupt my trade. A widow canny afford to close, not e’en for a day. The lad can empty the ashes and redd the storeroom. I will gi’ him a ha’penny credit for each rat he kills. I hope he’s better at it than that good-for-naught terrier I feed.”
    A widow.
    “Much obliged.” He bowed, sorry now he wore his tattered