She ran to the door and cracked it open, but not wanting to go inside. “Pa! Uncle Abe and Jeremiah are here.” Pa didn’t like being woken up, but he wouldn’t want to be surprised either. It was a lose lose situation for Birdie, so staying outside, out of harm’s way, was her best option.
She turned to find Uncle Abe and Jeremiah building a fire in the fire pit that sat a few feet away from the front door, like they had done many times before. Their ease and comfort helped settle Birdie’s nerves. None of the visitors entered the shack—not that Birdie blamed them—but rather sat around a roaring fire drinking and telling tales into the late evening. Even though her pa was meaner than the devil to her, he could charm the pants off anyone when he wanted to. Something about her pa kept the visitors flowing.
“Come over here and give your Uncle Abe a kiss.” Abe reached out his arms with a big toothless grin.
Birdie didn’t hesitate and did as he asked, kissing him gently on his cheek. The smell of stale booze, body odor, and leather quickened her pulse. The dread of what would come of the evening weighed heavy on her, but she didn’t want to show her fear.
“Now go over there and give Jeremiah a kiss.”
Feeling her face heat up, she simply obeyed, but never once made eye contact with Jeremiah. Standing on her tiptoes, she quickly kissed his cheek, noticing that unlike his father, he didn’t smell of anything foul. Quite the opposite.
“Better watch your hands, boy,” her pa slurred as he stumbled out of the shack. “My Birdie comes with a mighty high dowry.” Both he and Abe laughed loudly. “But from what I hear, you can afford her.” Their laughter continued, but Birdie noticed that Jeremiah was not laughing but simply staring at Birdie.
Jeremiah cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. My mines sure have been lucky.” Jeremiah never looked away from Birdie, causing her to avert her eyes toward her new boots to avoid his stare. “I was hoping, if you don’t mind, that I could take Birdie for a walk to the mercantile in Boca for some peppermint candy.”
Birdie looked up to his face quickly and smiled. She had never had peppermint candy before, nor anyone offering to buy it for her. Realizing that by smiling, her pa might want to steal away her happiness, she washed any sign of excitement away and just waited anxiously for her pa’s response.
“I don’t see why not,” was his simple reply as Abe handed him a bottle of whiskey, distracting him of all else. “You kids be good.”
Birdie didn’t want to wait for him to change his mind, so she darted toward the woods, hearing Jeremiah close behind. As soon as they were out of sight, she turned to him. “Thank you for the offer, and I appreciate you getting me out of there, but you don’t have to buy me any candy.” She smiled as she released the breath she had been holding.
Jeremiah returned her smile and said, “I’m a man of my word, and I told your pa I was buying you some peppermint candy.” He reached for her hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. “Come on.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Birdie couldn’t take the silence any longer. “That’s wonderful news about your mines.”
“Yes, I guess you can say that.”
“So what are you doing here? If you don’t mind me asking? Shouldn’t you be overseeing your mines?”
Jeremiah shrugged. “I have some dealings that need to be handled.” He took a deep breath and released it in a rush. “I’m just going to tell it like it is, Birdie.” Jeremiah stopped them from walking and turned her so she was facing him. “Your and my pa have gotten themselves in a heap of trouble.”
“I don’t understand.” Birdie couldn’t possibly fathom what her father could have done.
“Your pa is not a good man. He’s always been involved in some shady dealings, swindling poor fools by selling land and mines that don’t exist. But he and my pa went too far this time. They sold some fake plots to the wrong men. Bad men who won’t stop at taking their revenge.”
“You have got to be mistaken.” Birdie shook her head in confusion. It’s not that she thought her father a moral man, but he remained piss drunk the majority of his waking hours. “How? I don’t—”
“I’m taking my father to San Francisco to try to get this mess cleared up. I’m hoping that my money can make it right. But I can’t buy a man’s pride back, and our fathers have stolen the pride from some ruthless killers. My father is a son of a bitch, but I don’t want to see him dead.”