Brookland by Emily Barton Page B

Pearl was heavy, but Prue did not want to put her down; when she could rest her eyes from the visual wealth around her, Pearl watched her elder sister with an expression of love and trust far exceeding what Prue felt she’d earned. She imagined Pearl would someday outgrow this admiration, but as long as it persisted, Prue would do all she could to encourage it. Over the top of a low bookshelf, Prue saw Ben and Isaiah reading something, and she caught Isaiah’s eye. “Did you know there could be so many goods in one place?” she asked.
    He sucked on his lower lip while he thought it through. “I didn’t know there could be so many
people
in one place. Nor so many marvelous things. Show her the book, Ben.” Ben held up a detailed illustration on waterproofing from a shipbuilding book. At the engraving’s left, two workmen were uncoiling rope from a cauldron of pitch; at its right, they were wedging the rope into a seam on a rowboat’s hull.
    â€œCareful, now,” the bookseller called, “I saw those filthy mittens you stowed in your pocket.”
    Ben shot Isaiah an angry glance as he put the book back down.
    At the inland side of the market, Joe Loosely and his wife hove into view, looking as dazed by the sights as Prue herself felt. Matty Winship and Joe Loosely were good friends, and as they clapped each other on the shoulder, Prue noticed how of a type they were: both solidly built, with friendly features and chestnut hair. (Mr. Loosely was less well endowed inthis regard.) Prue’s sharp-featured mother could not less have resembled Mrs. Loosely, who came of Dutch stock, but they greeted each other warmly. Prue shifted Pearl so her weight might rest on the other arm, and Pearl gave a contented hiss as she nestled in.
    â€œNot at the tavern?” Matty asked. “Seems it’d be a banner day for business.”
    Mrs. Loosely nodded what appeared to be her rueful agreement, and Joe said, “It is, indeed. But even an innkeeper’s entitled to a holiday. Is it not so, Annetje?”
    â€œI’m not so sure,” she said, but she was already distracted by Maggie. As the Looselys had no children, they made a pleasant fuss over their small neighbors, dirty hands and all.
    â€œThe men are looking after the place. It’s only for a few hours,” Joe said. “And quite the miracle.”
    â€œIndeed,” Matty said, though Prue was certain he did not ascribe the frozen river to God.
    â€œMakes a man realize what a fine thing it’d be to have a bridge. We could saunter across to Fly Market on a Sunday stroll.”
    â€œIn all the time we could spare from the tavern,” Annetje Loosely said, with an arch tone Prue could tell was only half in jest.
    â€œHave you been showing the kids the town?” Joe asked, resting his hand on Tem’s head as if she were a newel post. Tem squirmed, but could have gotten free if she’d wanted to. “How’d you get charge of all these Hors fields ?”
    â€œSimple accretion,” Matty Winship replied.
    â€œIsaiah’s in charge,” Ben offered. “And Mr. Winship’s only shown us the market.”
    â€œThen let’s take ’em to City Hall,” Joe said. He looked around a moment before deciding on a direction and setting out that way with Tem. “D’ye know, Miss Temmy, that New York is important enough to have its own seat of government? Not a little farming town like our Breuckelen.” He gave the name a hearty Dutch pronunciation that made his wife laugh. Tem did not appear to care, and began to look peeved about the hand on her head. The streets themselves entranced Prue—she loved the way the buildings massed up as high as the rocky bluffs on either side of Joralemon’s Lane. Ben and Isaiah ran and shouted as usual, but Prue felt an unexpected calm descend on her as she contemplated the majestyof her surroundings and the perfect ordinariness