“Out! Before I toss ye on yer ear.”
“How much?” Sean pulled the roll of money Wickham had given him, out of his sporran. “ ’Tis everything I have. But if ye’ll do it, I’ll pledge this and any amount of work hours ye determine. I’m working for Owen McIntyre. He’ll vouch for me.”
Alban stared at the sizeable roll of money. Sean had no idea if the money he held was a little, or a lot, compared to what a gate would cost, but he suspected from Alban’s reaction, the money must be more than ample. But Sean was willing to use any means it took to get him to agree. He opened the roll and spread it out on the bench. Alban’s eyes widened, significantly.
“I’m no’ sure it can be done,” the man said, still eying the money.
“Ye must be.No maybes.I ken ye’re a find craftsman who takes pride in his work. But this doesnae have tae be quite so fine. Just an outer frame, as I mentioned. It doesnae have tae be pretty. But it does have tae have those two old iron pieces incorporated in it, following the shape of that sketch. And a latch. The gate must open. Will ye do it?”
Sean held his breath, no’ daring to hope and no’ willing to give up. He pushed the money closer. “Before daylight. Delivered and installed.”
Alban’s eyes were locked on the money. “Where?”
“The old kirk. And ye’ll have passengers.”
The man’s eyes shot to Sean. “If any part of this is illegal, I’ll have no part in it.”
“ ’Tis no’ illegal. I dinnae ken who owns the kirk, or the property, but the gate will be free-standing, doin’ no damage tae anything there.”
Sean glanced outside. ’Twas getting dark. He couldnae have Owen going to Kenna’s looking for him. He had to hurry, “Will ye do it?”
Alban reached for the money. “ ’Twill take the night. Maybe more.”
Sean clamped his hand over Alban’s. “Done, delivered, and installedbeforedaybreak.”
Swallowing, Alban nodded. “Before daybreak.”
“I’ll take half of that,” Sean indicated the money. “Count what ye give back tae me, and I’ll return it tae ye at the kirkafterthe gate is installed.”
Frowning, Alban separated an approximate half, counted it, and handed it back.
Sean pointed at the string. “Single knots represent the width. Double knots are the height.” He picked up the pointed piece of iron, set it atop the drawing, and pulled the other, larger piece, closer. “Ye’re clear on the shape? Both of thesemustbe part o’ the gate. No exceptions. Clear?”
Alban nodded. “Clear.”
“And a latch. A simple spring latch will be fine. But the gate must open.”
“Aye. A latch.”
“I’ll be back well before sunup tae help ye load it. Ye’ve some tools? Shovels and such?”
“I’ll be ready.” Alban pointed to the money Sean held. “Ye just make sure tae bring that.”
Sean tucked the money into his sporran, looked at the items on the workbench, barely able to breathe. All this—all he had, and all he could promise—was to help Kenna return home.
And leave him behind.
Chapter Fifteen
Realizing he was blindly scanning expiration dates, Sean began again. If he had to keep redoing everything, he’d never get out of Owen’s cold-storage room and back to the iron-shop in time.
Determined to focus, he blocked everything from his mind and began again.
But, what if his plan with the gate dinnae work?
How could he drag Kenna from her bed, take her to the kirk on naught more than a whim and send her through that gate—assuming it actually worked—as if she were simply going for a stroll?
They’d focused so much on getting her back to 1597, they’d never discussed what she intended to do once she got there. Or if she left this century, if she’d land in the exact time and place, she intended.
