Miss Thorne Blossoms

by Jordan Bollinger

  Victoria shook her head. After a moment, she insisted, "No, not with him still running the saloon right across the street.

  "If I'm going to go to the trouble and expense of building a new surgery and living quarters, I want to be able live there without raucous noise and behavior. And, I certainly don't want to live beneath that man's gaze."

  "Well, I can't say that I blame the doctor. I don't like living across from that Brumbell and his business. And, I'm not a timid man," Neil stated.

  Gus looked up as Ann came around to refill coffee cups. Once she'd moved on, he said, "Have you made any sketches of what you want in your new surgery and living quarters?"

  "No. I've not even allowed myself to think about it," Victoria admitted, "because I didn't want to get my hopes up—only to have them dashed again."

  "Well," Gus suggested, "I think you should spend some time with the Sears Catalog, and some paper and a pencil. I'll make a list of the things I used when I built the workshop, and I'm more than willing to discuss some things with you. But, Neil is right there. He'll be able to make some suggestions. And, he'll be able to begin making a list of what lumber and things you'll need."

  "I also need to see what is available at the mercantile and what tools I'll need to order for myself," Neil added. "Where should I order the lumber from?"

  "I'll have my men mill whatever you want," Gus said.

  "But—"

  "I don't intend to argue," Gus insisted. "You can pay me later, after you've built up your business."

  "Don't even bother fighting him," Meg said. "It does no good. The man thinks he's personally responsible for the entire populace of Manchester." She turned and smiled at Gus, and added, "He's like the king—but in the best possible way."

  "A king? So that's what you think I act like?"

  "Yes, but not in a bad way," Margaret argued, laughing. "And, you only act like a king on your property. You're more of a fairy godfather for the town."

  "I see...."

  *****

  The summer progressed. Victoria and Neil spent the lonely hours, between patients, pouring over the Sears Catalog—in turns. Neil carefully read about all the variations of the tools he'd decided he'd need to start his business, while the doctor worked and reworked sketches of what her new surgery should include. Then, she would examine iceboxes and cook stoves, while he revised her drawings.

  Brent Harding dropped by again several times, always accompanied by his dog. And he always wanted to speak to Dr. Thorne about the dead girl. But, since no one had come forward, she had no new information to provide for his story. In truth, she was beginning to find it annoying.

  However, at some point, he and Neil seemed to forge a tentative friendship, so Victoria did her best to ignore him. After all, Neil needed to make male friends, just as she had needed Meg and Miranda's friendship. So now Brent began dropping by almost daily to discuss Neil's new carpentry business.

  What struck the doctor as odd, was that so far, Harding had failed to publish one issue of his new paper.

  And then, everything changed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The first of August dawned bright and beautiful. Birds were singing and the sun was shining amidst a blue sky dotted with fluffy clouds on the morning when Davy pounded on Meg's back door, hollering.

  Kit, always up first, opened the door while Meg stumbled from her bedroom in her nightdress with a shawl draped around her shoulders. Eva joined them, as she buttoned up her shirtwaist.

  "Davy," Meg asked, "what's wrong? Are you all right?"

  "Me...I'm fine...but—"

  "Out here, miss. Come onto the porch," Kit called to her.

  Margaret stepped out and gasped, as she saw Kit bent beside the crumpled body of a young girl. But, before she could ask anything, Kit stood up, shook her head, and announced, "She's dead, miss. She's cold, so she's been dead for a while."

  "Davy," Meg said in a low voice, "I need you to go home. Don't stop for anyone. Don't say anything to anyone. Just go straight to Gus. And, you are to hurry, but not until your outside town, so no one notices. If Gus is with someone, wait until you can talk to him alone. Then, ask him to come into town calmly, and to go directly to the sheriff's office, as if nothing is wrong. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, ma'am," was all he said as he jumped up onto the wagon. As he drove away, he turned and called out, "You can depend on me, miss."

  Margaret went to the body and kneeled down, but Kit was right—the girl was cold. And, when Meg stood up, she was horrified to see her gown stained with a mixture of blood and dirt at her knees.

  As she climbed back up onto the porch, she whispered, "Eva, go put a sign on the front door saying we're both ill and there will be no work today."

  Then, she sank into one of the rocking chairs and began to shake. Neither Kit nor Eva were able to coax her back inside. So, after Eva posted the sign up, she began coffee first and then breakfast. In the meanwhile, Kit had found an old blanket and covered the poor girl's body.

  Once the body was covered, Kit announced, "I'm going to go get the doctor. But, I'm not going to make much of it."

  Meg merely nodded her agreement. Eva brought her a mug of coffee, already prepared with cream and sugar. However, after one sip, Meg thrust the mug back at her, as she lurched over the porch railing and retched.

  "I'm so sorry, Eva. It isn't your coffee, I swear. I just...I don't feel very well."

  "It's all right, miss. I'll make you some tea instead. That should sit better," Eva told her, as she touched her shoulder gently, before leaving.

  Kit returned with Dr. Thorne in tow. Apparently, Kit had made it clear to Victoria the girl was definitely dead, because the doctor walked past the blanket covered corpse and straight up the steps to Meg.

  "Margaret," she began in a soft voice, "let's go inside and get you dressed, shall we?" When Meg didn't move, she told Kit, "Could you please go get Miranda?"

  The doctor was about to try again when Gus and Frank Dunkirk came walking around the front corner of the workshop.

  "Good Lord!" Frank exclaimed, as he yanked back the blanket and saw the dead girl.

  "There's a lot of blood on the ground beside her," the doctor said, "but I haven't begun examining her yet."

  Gus was standing a few feet away from the building when he pointed to the ground and said, "I think there's some blood here."

  Frank went to look at the spot, nodded, and moved away. After another few feet, he called out, "Here's some more."

  As the sheriff followed the blood trail to the land behind the building, Gus walked back toward the porch when Victoria called out, "Gus, Meg isn't feeling well. Would you help me get her inside, please?"

  Gus trudged up the steps as Meg began trembling. Rather than asking her to come inside with him, he merely lifted her up from the chair, carried her inside, and set her onto her bed.

  Eva immediately followed them, closing the door after Gus returned to the porch. Meanwhile, Victoria kneeled on the blanket, and started examining the body.

  "Kit was right," she began, "the girl's been dead for several hours at least." She looked at Frank, and asked, "Could you help me turn her over, please?"

  The sheriff obliged. At least, he started to. But, when he shifted her position a bit, they all gasped. The ground beneath her was saturated with blood.

  "Has she been stabbed or shot?" the sheriff asked, with a tremor in his voice.

  The doctor merely shook her head. After a moment, she answered, "No, she's either miscarried or had an abortion." Victoria stood up and frowned. "I should have examined the other girl more carefully—done an autopsy. She might have been pregnant, as well. And now, we'll never know."

  She moved over and sagged down onto the steps. "What are we going to do? These poor girls are coming from somewhere."

  "Eva," Gus said, "did you put up some sort of a notice on the workshop doors...saying there will be no work today?"

  When she nodded, he and Frank lifted the b
ody and laid it out, as well as they could manage, since rigor mortis had already set in, on the edge of the porch.

  There, Victoria began to undress the girl and examine her while Gus and Frank looked for a tell-tale blood trail. The sheriff continued back, into the little stand of young trees. After several minutes, he returned from his walk into the undergrowth, carrying a ragged blanket, now covered in grass and leaves, blood, and a long, fine, wooden knitting needle—stained red.

  "Well," the doctor said, in a weary voice, as she saw what he carried, "If you discovered that, she must have aborted the child herself. So, we don't need to worry about someone here in town performing abortions. At least, I don't believe we do."

  "She did this to herself?" Gus asked, in an incredulous voice, as he slumped onto a step.

  "I'm afraid so," Victoria answered. "Although, I don't think she meant to kill herself, merely rid herself of the child."

  She looked at the men, and said, "This is very bad."

  When the men just stared at her, she continued, "I think one of us should go and ask Neil to bring his wagon over here later this morning."

  "But why?" the sheriff asked.

  "So we can move the body after dark."

  "Where?"

  "I suppose somewhere on your land, Gus. So she can buried."

  "You want to keep her death a secret?" Frank asked.

  "I believe we will have to. But, I'm willing to talk about things. However, right now, I think I need to go check on Meg. She wasn't doing well. And, then, if you'd like, I'll go speak to Neil."

  "Fine," Gus said. "But now, please go to Margaret. She's was very distressed."

  "Yes," Frank agreed. "I'm going to go to the sheriff's office." He sighed and said, "After all, today is just another day. I'll be back after dinner."

  "Wait," Gus called out, "help me place the body beneath the porch. It will be cooler and, hopefully, no one will notice it, should they come to the back door."

  When Gus went inside, he found Victoria talking to Meg, who was still sitting on the edge of her bed, exactly where he had placed her. Only now she was rocking and her teeth were chattering.

  "Come along, Meg," Victoria said to her in as soothing a voice as she could manage.

  Gus moved over and crouched in front of her, and said, "Meg...Margaret...Victoria and Eva want to help you dress now."

  Instead of answering, she fell forward into Gus' arms, shivering and sobbing, "What's happening in this town? Who are these poor girls? And, who is making them do these horrible things?"

  "I don't know, Meg," Gus said, as he stroked her head. "But we'll figure it out. Now, please, get some clothes on and then come out for some more tea. Please." He squeezed her, and then, wearing a guilty look, pulled away. He stood up and left the room, abruptly.

  "Meg," Dr. Thorne began, "I know this has all been very distressing to you, but we're becoming concerned. Did you see how very upset Gus was?" She signaled for Eva to gather up some clothes as she continued, "Just get dressed, now. And then come out for some tea. You'll feel better for it, I promise."

  When she still didn't move, Victoria's voice took a firm, authoritative tone. "You are upsetting all of us. Now, if you don't try and get dressed, I'm going to have to give you a bromide and put you to bed." Then she added, "We won't be able to include you in our discussions. And, we need your input."

  Half an hour later, Miranda had arrived, as had Neil. Then they gathered around the table as Kit poured coffee and tea and Eva placed platters of fried ham, scrambled eggs, and fried potatoes out for a rather late breakfast, or very early lunch.

  Meg was still pale, but now dressed, sipped her tea and remained quiet. Eva put a spoon of eggs on her plate, added a tiny piece of ham, and a fresh, hot biscuit before placing it in front of her.

  But no one really thought she would eat much.

  However, the men filled their plates and gulped down mug after mug of coffee. Miranda, who had not seen the body, ate a bit. The two younger girls drank their tea and picked at their biscuits.

  Eventually, Victoria spoke, "Ladies...gentlemen...we have a serious problem. It's clear that someone—here, in Manchester—is selling young girls’ bodies. This girl's hands were rough and chapped, just as the first girl's. And...at least," she paused.

  "What?" Gus asked.

  "Well, I can't swear to this, but while this girl's hands are red and chapped, they aren't quite as bad as the first child's—as if she's no longer doing heavy work in hot water and harsh soap."

  "So," Gus asked, "you think they are connected?"

  "I can't believe any of us don't think they aren't. But there's more," she continued, "I think the girls were related—perhaps, even sisters."

  "Why?" Neil asked.

  "They were similar in size and complexion. But, it's their eyes. They both had the same alarming, bright blue eyes."

  "This just becomes more and more strange," Miranda said.

  "And," Victoria went on, "it's only going to get worse. We need to keep this just between ourselves. Which means we can't take the girl to the undertaker—or it will be all over town."

  She looked at the sheriff, and asked, "How trustworthy is that photographer?"

  "I don't think he'd lie or steal," Frank answered. "But that's not what you're asking, is it?"

  "No...I want to know if he can be trusted to keep this secret."

  "Ah...well...no...probably not," he admitted.

  "But..." Gus said, "you can't expect us to keep this a secret? That we not tell the rest of the town?"

  "I know you'll all think it wrong of us to hide this death, but I believe we need to," Victoria insisted.

  "Why?"

  "Because, I've examined her body closely. Well, as closely as I could on a back porch. And while I'm convinced she performed the abortion on herself, I'm afraid she also showed early symptoms of syphilis. It's entirely possible that her...procurer? Is that the correct term?" When the men nodded, she continued, "...that her procurer didn't know she was either diseased or pregnant...or that she is dead. And," she added, "that means he'll be looking for her."

  "But, how," Frank groaned, "will keeping this girl's death a secret help?"

  Meg looked up, and in a strange, removed voice, said, "I think I do. He's lost one girl—which we can probably attribute to his own bad temper. Now, another girl is gone. But he doesn't know where. Did she find a way to escape him? Did one of her 'patrons' decide to rescue her? Or, did some other entrepreneur entice her to come work for him?

  "The thing is," Meg continued, "he must have more girls working for him. Even with him keeping them sequestered, I'm sure he couldn't keep the first girl's death a secret.

  "Now, they are going to notice this girl's absence. And then, they are going to start wondering if he's killed her, as well. Or has she, somehow, managed to escape."

  Suddenly Gus picked up her train of thought, saying "And the last thing someone like that wants is for his property—his very commodity—to start thinking."

  Chapter Fifteen

  After a moment, Frank Dunkirk exclaimed, rather excitedly, "Wait! Judge Preston will be here in three days. Maybe we can just do nothing, until he arrives. And then, dump the entire problem on him."

  "Sheriff," the doctor said, in a frustrated tone, "it's August. And, while we aren't having a heat wave and we've stored the body in the shade, it's already begun to decompose. We must either pack it in a tremendous amount of ice—which is going to definitely draw attention to us—or bury it. And soon. Otherwise, we expose ourselves—well, the entire town, really—to the danger of disease."

  "Look, Frank," Gus began, "I do think we need to find out as much as we can and organize it before the judge arrives. But, Dr. Thorne is right. We need to bury the girl. She can be reinterred when we find out who she is. But for right now, I think Neil should build a simple coffin this afternoon. So we can bury her this evening—somewhere on my property, as close to town that we can manage without being observed."


  "I don't like this," Frank groaned. "I don't like this, at all."

  "I know, Frank. But, I'm afraid that's just the way it will have to be," Gus insisted. "I'm going to go back home and try and act like everything is perfectly normal while I find a suitable spot for the child's temporary grave." He stood up, and said, "Frank, go back to the office. Maybe you could ask—off-handed—if any of your men have noticed anything that struck them as odd. If they've felt something just seemed off. But, Frank, stay calm. All right?"

  "Yes. Yes, I understand. I'll take a walk around town and see if I see anything that catches my eye. And, I'll be subtle." After giving the group a weak smile, he left.

  Neil looked at the ladies and said, "I think I have enough wood for to build the coffin, but I'm going to go check. I'll come back here to build it, though. Don't you think that's a better idea than risk being seen?"

  Victoria shook her head, and added, "I'll be back at the surgery very soon—but only for a short while, unless I've patients. I'm going to get a pad of drawing paper and pencil, and return to make a sketch of the girl. It won't be as good as an actual photograph, but at least, it's something"

  She lowered her voice and added, "But I'm going to have Kit remain. I believe that will be best. I'm still concerned about Meg. Besides, Kit's much less likely to say something amiss here."

  "Well, please keep checking on Miss Meg. She seems truly distressed by today's adventure," Neil said.

  "I think she'll be all right after a bit. She dealt with the first death fine. Better than me, in fact.

  "The thing is, she's led a relatively sheltered life, and I think she's having a problem accepting how wicked and cruel people can be. That it's that realization that's upsetting her so."

  *****

  It was late in the afternoon, when Frank returned to the back of the workshop, where Neil was finishing the simple coffin. He was scrutinizing a small piece of blood soaked paper.