Chapter 22
POV: Callum?
“Argh!” Sorsha shouted, hurling the book to the floor in frustration. “Why does it have to be so hard? How can door, or, and oar all sound the same but be spelled differently?”
She’d barely been outside, so consumed was she with learning to read. I scooped her up by the waist and set her on the kitchen table.
“You’re doing amazingly well. Your progress is astounding. But reading can’t be mastered in a couple of days—it takes practice.”
She pouted, wrinkling her nose. “I thought if I knew every letter it would be easy,” she muttered grumpily.
I cradled her face and brushed a kiss against those plump lips.
“I think you need a break. You’re probably dreaming the alphabet by now. Let’s go past Orpen Farm and see if they have chicks, okay?”
“Okay.” She agreed, but the smile was missing.
Grabbing the basket, I looked around and eventually asked, “What can we use to cover the basket with?”
“Why do we need to cover the basket?”
“To keep them from jumping out.”
“The chickens? They won’t fit in there,” she half laughed in astonishment.
I grinned. She was picturing full-grown hens, while I was thinking day-old chicks—fluffy, soft, the kind she could raise herself.
“Trust me, I’ll make them fit. Now, do we have something? I could use a towel…”
“Wait.” She held up her hand. “My hideous wedding dress.”
She disappeared down the hallway, and a thought popped into my head. I’d added a clause to the contract specifying that Sorsha must wear a wedding dress, which had backfired horribly. The dress was white but miles too big.
If I arranged a Church ceremony, I could ask Nora to supply a proper dress, and we could exchange rings then.
She came back and grabbed the scissors, cut the dress in half, and stuffed it into the basket.
“Let’s go.”
She opened the front door—and jumped in surprise at the person standing there, hand raised to knock. I also did a double-take; he was well-dressed and clean.
“Ryan? What are you doing here?”
He stepped back and, in a querulous voice, asked, “Do you have my papers? They aren’t where they used to be.”
A guilty look formed on Sorsha’s face. “Yes, I hid them. Why do you need them? Have you already spent all the money you got?”
A sneer twisted Ryan’s mouth. “If it weren’t for the money, I wouldn’t be burying Pa now.”
“What?” Sorsha blanched, and I stepped in close behind her so she could feel me at her back. “What happened—and what does that have to do with money?”
“He drank himself to death,” Ryan snapped.
Unbelievable. To actually blame me for supplying the money. I stepped in front of Sorsha, eyebrows raised.
“You think he drank himself to death in…” I paused, ticking off the days. “Four days? Nah, buddy. He’s been doing that for years. This just pushed him over the edge. His liver and kidneys were probably failing long before you saw a crown.”
“Bullshit.” Ryan spat, his expression twisting into an ugly mask. “Anyway, where are the papers?”
“I hid them in the loose brick on the side of the house,” Sorsha admitted, clinging to my arm.
Ryan nodded, then added, “I think you should pay half the funeral costs.”
“What?” Sorsha almost shrieked. “You and Pa got fifty crowns. Don’t tell me you’ve spent most of them already.”
“Never mind then.” He turned and stomped away.
“When’s the funeral?” she called after him.
“Day after tomorrow,” Ryan shouted back.
I pulled her close as she surreptitiously wiped her eyes. No matter how appalling his treatment of her, he was still her father.
“I’m so sorry.”
She turned, hiding a sniff. “You know what, I feel guilty because I’m not sad.”
“Yes, you are, and that’s okay.”
“I’m really not. What I felt was relief. That’s it. Now let’s get the chickens.”
She closed the door and walked ahead, and I wondered whether she was deflecting.
I had hated my father for killing my mom for a long time—until I understood. But we’d never had a close relationship. He barely spoke, and I’d grown up with a healthy respect for him, afraid the same thing might happen to me.
He never touched me, and I made sure never to anger him.
I didn’t press Sorsha. She liked to figure things out on her own, and we walked most of the way in silence.
Orpen farmhouse came into view—a sprawling home with a massive barn beside it. Children played out front, shouting as they tossed a ball, their noise drowning out our arrival.
But the Labrador smelled us and bounded forward, barking.
In an instant, Sorsha scrambled onto my back, her arms locking tight around my neck. “I don’t like dogs,” she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. “I was bitten by one.”
I grinned despite myself, shifting her weight higher. She clung so tightly I could feel the thrum of her heartbeat through her chest. For all her bravado, a barking dog had her climbing me like a tree.
“Don’t worry,” I murmured, adjusting my grip beneath her knees. “I’ve got you.” Carrying her was no effort at all. We made it up the path, her face pressed against the side of my neck, and I enjoyed every second of it.
The farmhouse door swung open, and Christopher Orpen stepped out.
“Christopher,” I greeted.
His sharp gaze cut to the dog. “Heel.”
The Labrador stopped short, then padded back to his master’s side, tail wagging as though he hadn’t been barking like mad a moment ago.
“Callum and who is the lady…”
Sorsha scrambled off my back, embarrassed
“This is my wife, Sorsha,” I introduced.
“Hi,” Sorsha said in a meek little voice, standing close to me and eyeing the Labrador.
“Congratulations. I heard you got married—and to the prettiest girl, too. Well, second prettiest. My wife’s the prettiest.” He glanced through the screen door and grinned. “What do you need?”
“We’d like to buy some chicks if you have any.”
Christopher chuckled. “I do, three-day-olds.”
“Great. We’ll take four.”
“Amy?” Christopher shouted, and one of the girls playing turned toward us.
“Yes?”
“Take this basket and get me four of the chicks.”
“Okay.”
Amy ran up the steps, grabbed the basket, and rushed off to the barn.
“Good that you’re here, I need more brackets.”
“For the new enclosures.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Forty and a few spares.”
“No problem.”
Amy came skipping back, the basket covered with Sorsha’s dress.
“Here you go.” She smiled at Sorsha and handed her the basket. “They are so cute.”
Sorsha nodded and lifted the dress. “Aww, I thought we’d buy grown hens, but these are so beautiful.” She picked one up, pressed it to her cheek, and kissed its tiny beak.
“We’ll settle once I’ve finished the brackets,” I told Christopher.
“Yeah, I still owe for the last batch of nails.”
“No problem. Have a good day.”
With a wave, I stepped off the porch, Sorsha close behind me. Lowering my voice so only she could hear, I said, lips quirking,
“You know, if that dog comes at us again, you’re welcome to climb me anytime.”
Her head whipped toward me, scandal blazing in her eyes. “Callum!”
I chuckled, holding up my hands. “Just saying, I don’t mind being your safe perch.”