“Of course I’ve never spilled anything on you!” Molly was caught off guard and for a moment, and in doing so, she lost the game. You weren’t supposed to raise your voice that much when conspiring. She wondered if Bridget knew that rule; most children did innately – or so she imagined. Well, the only way to play was to keep going. She began again in whispers. “I don’t spill things on people. It’s rude,” Molly teased.
“Oh,” Molly became serious again. She hadn’t meant to draw Bridget into all of that. But, after giving it a second, Molly decided she did want her opinion. It wasn’t like Molly had anyone else to talk to – she wasn’t going to admit to Thomas or Rena that she’d been asking favors of patrons. And maybe Bridget would know if she’d done the wrong thing. “Well, it’s probably all just silly.” Molly threw the qualifier out as a defense. Bridget may be just a child, but her censure would hurt. “I, uh, well, a while ago there was this captain here. He said he was from Sweetwater. And, well, he was going back and he lives near the river.” Deciding she’d never get anywhere if she continued on like this, Molly said simply, “I asked him if he could take a letter to my family. He was going anyway and sending it from Sweetwater meant it would get there lots faster than sending it from here. And it meant that he’d know who to give it to so that it got there safely.” Confession over, she met Bridget’s gaze. “Was it awfully selfish of me?”