can see by the look on your face you think that’s a steep price. I won’t lie to ya. The girl is a burden, but like I said, she’s a hard worker. That’s worth something. Besides, I saw you looking her over. A man your age needs a wife. I ought to know. That’s why I settled down.”
Horror filled him; he couldn’t say what bothered him more. He launched out of his chair, no longer able to sit still. He thought of his frail grandmother, a woman who had lost everything she once loved. Her words warbled through his mind. It won’t hurt a thing for you to go take a look. The land might be just what we need—what you need—to start over and keep your grandfather’s legacy living on.
Legacy? That word stood out to him now. At the time, the plea on his grandmother’s button face had persuaded him to come, that and the doctor’s dim prognosis. Nana’s heart was failing. So, he’d reasoned, how could he disappoint her in this final request? Not the marriage agreement—he had been clear with her on that—but in taking a look and in agreeing to meet the people once so important to their family.
Now, all he saw were broken dreams—his grandmother’s, his grandfather’s and his hopes to start again.
“What are you up to, young man?” O’Rourke slammed his bottle onto the unsteady table—not so hard as to spill the liquor—and bounded to his feet. “Your family agreed to this. The girl and six hundred dollars and not a penny less.”
“Six hundred for the girl?” Ian raked his good hand through his hair, struggling with what to say. The truth would probably make the man even more irate and if that happened, would he take it out on Fiona? He thought of his return ticket on tomorrow’s eastbound train and shivered. His palm burned with pain, a reminder of how hard O’Rourke had meant to thrash his daughter. His stomach soured.
“I feared this would happen. She’s no prize, I grant you that. I’m sorry you had to see how she can be. She could have lost that horse, and that ain’t the first time she’s done something like that. Trouble follows that girl, but she can be taught to pay better attention. I’ll see to it.”
He felt the back of his neck prickle. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed the shadow just inside the doorway to the kitchen. A glimpse of red gingham ruffle swirled out of view. She had come to listen in, had she? And what did she think of her father trying to sell her off like an unwanted horse?
“It costs to feed her and shelter her. Her ma and I are tired of the expense. Since we lost our Johnny, we don’t have anyone to work the fields in the summer or in town for wages in winter.”
And that’s what a child was to these people? A way to earn money without working for it? “I don’t have six hundred dollars, Mr. O’Rourke. My grandmother is ill and she isn’t aware of how precarious our finances are. My grandfather made some bad investments. We are nearly penniless as a result.”
“You have no money?” Fury rolled through the man, furrowing his leathery face and fisting his hands.
“Not a spare six hundred dollars. I didn’t come to renegotiate for the girl.” He had hoped he could bargain for the land with the little savings he had left. He had traveled here with a hope that O’Rourke would be willing to sell at a bargain to his friend’s son. That a wedding would not have to be part of the deal.
“If you don’t have the money, then this is a waste.” O’Rourke cackled, the fury draining, but the bitterness growing. “Tell your grandmother the arrangement is off.”
“That’s for the best.” Ian heard the smallest sigh of relief from behind the shadowed doorway. Again he caught sight of a flash of red gingham as she swirled away, perhaps returning to the kitchen work awaiting her. Disappointment settled deep within him. He told himself it was from losing out on land he had hoped to afford, but in truth, he could not be sure.
Chapter Four
Ma turned down the wick to save kerosene, and the small orange flicker turned the kitchen to dancing shadows. Darkness crept in from the corners of the room like the winter’s cold. “Don’t forget to wipe down, Fiona, after you throw out the dishwater.”
“Yes, Ma.” She dried her