“I ain’t gonna be able to help you.”
“I do not ask or expect you to.”
“I ain’t even sure you will be safe in my house right now. My man purely hates you. I reckon he figures you shamed him. Scared him too, and he ain’t gonna forgive that. I ain’t gonna be able to help you if he sets on you.”
“You do not have to worry about us. As you saw, Adam Dunstan brought us here. At the first hint of trouble he will enter, gun in hand, andheknows how to use it.”
At that moment Morrisey slammed into the house, stopping just inside the front door to glare at Clover. “What the hell are you doing here, woman?” Heglowered at his wife. “Why’d you let her in after all I been saying ‘bout her?”
“She done come to buy the boy.” Bess pointed to the sack on the table.
Morrisey strode over and reached for the sack, but Clover snatched it away. She did not flinch under his hard glare, not even when he raised his fists. He had come in the front door, so she knew he had seen Adam and understood what would happen if he touched her. Clover was not sure how long the threat of Adam would restrain Morrisey, however, so she hurried to get down to business.
“You do not get this money until I get the boy,” she said.
“Then show me your money.”
Clover tipped the coins out on the table. Morrisey stood there for a long time, staring at it and not saying a word. When she caught a glimpse of his lips moving, she realized he was struggling to count it.
“There ain’t sixty there,” he accused.
“I know.”
“I said his price is sixty.”
“And do you really think someone will pay that much for the boy? He is underfed, battered, and obviously troublesome. We both know a lot of people want that boy free. They have been trying to raise the ridiculous price you are asking for a year, and they still do not have enough.”
“They got this much together. They can get the rest.”
“That money does not come from your neighbors,” said Agnes, speaking for the first time. “It is my money. I sold nearly everything I had just before I left Pennsylvania, and this is all I could raise. The pot will not grow any bigger. Yes, a few dollars did comefrom others, but only a few and, as Clover said, it has taken them nearly a year to gather even that small amount. I doubt they will ever get a full sixty dollars together. You have overpriced the child, Mr. Morrisey, and that means no one here will ever pay your blood money.”
“Then I can sell him someplace else,” Morrisey grumbled, but his gaze remained fixed on the silver coins.
“I sincerely doubt that Mr. Morrisey. He is a skinny, dirty little boy and half-Indian. You know most people do not believe Indians can work hard. A number of people would not want him near them because of their dreadful fear and loathing of Indians. And, for sixty dollars, a person can get a good strong black man, perhaps even more than one black slave. I detest the business of buying and selling people, as does my daughter. Nevertheless, if we must stoop to meet your despicable demand in order to free that child, we will. We will not, however, pay a price you could get nowhere in this country. What my daughter is offering is more than generous. I suggest you think twice before you refuse.”
While her mother spoke, Clover carefully returned the coins to the pouch, determined not to reveal her astonishment at her mother’s boldness. The usually timid woman was talking in a firm voice, calmly facing the large, glowering Morrisey. She had also lied about how much of the money had come from the townsfolk. It was a clever lie intended to convince Morrisey he would never get his asking price, and Agnes Sherwood never lied.
Clover looked up at Morrisey as she dropped the last coin into the pouch and closed it. He reallywanted the money. Just as she had hoped, showing him the coins had aroused his greed. She still had thirteen dollars in her pocket for bargaining, but it began to look as if she would not need it.
“Take the money, Jake,” urged Bess, tensing when he glared at her.
“This is my business, woman,” he snapped.
Bess flinched, but pressed on. “Folk ‘round here just ain’t got much money. They ain’t never gonna get sixty dollars together, not for no half-breed boy. The only reason this money is here is because these ladies done brought it with them to Kentucky. We got plenty of workers, Jake, but we ain’t got no coin.”
Morrisey scowled, then held out his hand. “Fine, then. Buy the brat. Give me the money and you can take him away.”
“I want to see the boy first,” said Clover. “Until he is in my hands, you do not get a penny.”
“Get the brat, Bess.”
Bess’s expression as she moved to do her husband’s bidding made Clover uneasy. When Bess pushed aside a thin rag rug on the floor and Clover saw the tiny trap door, she understood Bess’s shame. Clover struggled hard to control her rage as Bess helped a filthy, unsteady Willie up through the hatchway. He shielded his eyes against the light. Clover suspected he had been in that hole since he had returned home after helping her. She looked at Morrisey and knew that he could see the fury in her eyes.
“You already done agreed to the price,” he said.
“Come here, Willie.” Clover frowned when Bess had to help the boy over to her. “You are coming home with me. Is there anything you want to take with you?”
“The brat don’t own nothing,” Morrisey said even as Willie shook his head.
