A Beggar's Bargain

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 10

“What do you mean, someone’s been here?” Layken glanced around the kitchen, puzzled by Sara Beth’s obvious distress.

“The biscuits. I left them on a plate on the stove. And look.” She pointed. “The plate’s empty.”

“Maybe we have mice. Or a raccoon might have gotten in.”

“I don’t think mice could carry off eight biscuits. Raccoons would have eaten them there, and crumbs would be all over the stove.” She brought a hand to her mouth. “I think someone came in while we were gone.”

Layken took off his hat and scratched his head. The last thing he wanted was for Sara Beth to feel afraid. “I don’t see how that’s possible. There are no close neighbors. We’re not exactly close to the road.”

“What if it was the person in the woods? Maybe they’re starving.”

“I’ll check to see if anything else is gone.” Layken frowned and strode into the living room, then to the bedrooms. He couldn’t shake the uneasiness as he hurried back to the kitchen. “There doesn’t seem to be anything else missing.”

“Some of the eggs Mrs. Grover gave us are gone.”

Layken looked over her shoulder. “s**t! That gives me an unsettled feeling. I won’t leave you here alone while I go to Springfield.” He couldn’t.

Sara Beth closed the icebox door and turned to face him. She put her hands on her hips, and her brown eyes flashed with determination. “I’ll be fine. All they took was food. I have lots to do. You go on.”

“You sure? I don’t like this.” Taking a step back, he stared out the back door.

“I’m sure.”

“You ever shoot a g*n?”

“No, and I don’t intend to start now. I’m telling you I’ll be fine. I have a strong feeling someone was desperate. And, if they come back, I fully intend to feed them proper.”

Layken had to admire her surprising tenacity. “You have a big heart, Sara Beth. The least I can do is help you put things away.”

“That isn’t necessary. You go on to Springfield and hurry back.”

Layken jumped at a loud knock on the front door. His heart hammering inside his chest, he motioned to Sara Beth. “Stay here.”

Before he could get to the door, another knock came.

“Coming,” he yelled. While he’d never felt threatened in this home, times had changed. For a brief moment, he wished he had his rifle handy. Maybe he should put it over the fireplace where his father always kept it.

He paused at the screen door. “Can I help you?”

An elderly black man stood on the porch, hat in hand. “I’m lookin’ for Miss Sara Beth Williams. Am I at the right place?”

Sara Beth flew into the living room. “Uncle Seymour!”

“Yes, ma’am. I do hope I’m not intruding.”

“Of course not.” She hugged him. “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you somethin’ terrible.”

Uncle Seymour cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am. Me too.”

“Come in.” She turned to Layken. “This is my Uncle Seymour. Remember me telling you about him?”

Layken offered a hand. “Of course, I remember. Sorry about the less-than-hospitable welcome. We discovered some food taken while we were in town.”

Seymour gave him a quizzical look. “That’s a shame.” He shook Layken’s hand. “Seymour King’s the name.”

“Come on in. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Sara Beth ushered Uncle Seymour inside. “Did you walk from town?”

“Yessum.”

“We came from that way. Wish we’d seen you. Could’ve given you a ride.”

“I took a shortcut through the woods.”

“You must be thirsty. I have some tea in the icebox.” She hurried to the kitchen.

The genuine affection between the old man and girl was evident. Layken motioned to the couch. “Have a seat.”

“That’s all right. Don’t want to mess anything up.”

“Nonsense. This ain’t Homer Williams’ house, Seymour. Make yourself at home.”

Seymour cleared his throat. “Am hoping this can be more than a visit, sir. The Widow Jones fired me this morning. Got nowhere else to go.”

“Well, you can most certainly stay here.” Layken dropped into a chair and pointed again to the couch. “Please. Have a seat.”

The older man eased down, sitting on the edge, hat in hand. “Thought you might have some work. Did some sharecropping back in Mississippi.”

Layken ran his fingers through his hair. “I could sure use some help, and that’s a fact.” Another pair of hands would ease the workload. “Ever planted peanuts?”

“Peanuts?”

Sara Beth hurried in with glasses of tea. “Layken thinks he can make more money growing peanuts than wheat or corn. And I agree.”

Seymour accepted the glass from her. “I know a thing or two about growing most things.” He took a long drink from the cold glass. “Wouldn’t ask for much. Maybe a bed and meals.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What are you talking about, Uncle Seymour?”

“Widow Jones fired me this morning. Everything I own is outside in that wagon. Lookin’ for a place to stay, at least for a little while, ’til I can figure out what’s next.”

“I’ve already told him I could use his help, Sara Beth.” Layken took a sip of tea. “This house is small, but there’s a room in the barn where my dad’s hired hand stayed. Might need a little sprucing up.”

“I’d be grateful.”

“That horrible woman. I swear her and my father are two of a kind. A match made in heaven.” Sara Beth sat on the sofa next to Seymour.

“Or hell.” Uncle Seymour chuckled.

Sara Beth laughed. “That too. I guess they’ll be gettin’ married this weekend.”

“She’s already changing everything around the house that reminds her of your mother.”

“Hmph. Glad I’m not there.”

Layken cleared his throat. “Seymour, now that you’re here, I don’t have to worry about Sara Beth while I go on into Springfield. You couldn’t have showed up at a better time.”

“Happy I did, sir.”

“Tell you what.” Layken stood. “I’ll show you to the room in the barn and leave it to you and Sara Beth to settle in.”

The old man got to his feet and handed his empty glass to Sara Beth. “Thank you for the refreshment. It hit the spot.”

Sara Beth took the glasses into the kitchen, picked up Cuddles, and followed the men to the barn. Her heart swelled with gratitude for how Layken accepted her guardian without question.

No doubt, she had married a good man.

She listened to the conversation between the men as they walked. Uncle Seymour pulled a wooden wagon loaded with his belongings over the rough ground.

“This place has been in my family since the early 1800s.” Layken swept his arm wide. “My ancestors came in here with bounty land grants from the War of 1812.”

Seymour ambled, pulling the heavy load. “It’s a fine place. Sure is.”

They reached the barn, and Layken tugged aside a sliding door.

It took a minute for Sara Beth’s eyes to adjust to the dim interior. It was her first glimpse inside the barn, and the sturdiness impressed her. From the outside, it seemed more rundown.

A mouse scurried across the dirt floor. A yellow tabby cat dashed out from under a crate and soon had the mouse in its mouth.

“I didn’t know we had a cat.” Sara Beth bent over and called to the cat.

Layken laughed. “I didn’t either. They’ve always come and gone around here. Never tried to tame one. Need ’em to do their job.” He pointed toward the back left corner of the structure. “The room is back there. It’s got runnin’ water and a potbelly stove. Can’t say much about what shape things are in. I haven’t looked.”

“It’ll be fine.” Seymour smiled, showing teeth yellowed from tobacco. “I’m much obliged.”

“I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.” Sara Beth laid a hand on the old man’s arm. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are here.”

“That makes two of us, little girl.” Seymour lumbered toward the back of the barn.

“If you two are okay, I will go on into Springfield. Want to be back before dark.” Layken took a step toward the door, then turned. “Sara Beth, anything you need to help Seymour, feel free to use it.”

“Thank you. I will.”

She watched until Layken was gone, then strode across the barn to catch up with her friend. “Let’s see what we’ve got. I’ve never even been out here. Been so busy around the house, I hadn’t even thought to explore the barn.”

Uncle Seymour squinted. “You look happy.”

“It’s a funny thing. I was so scared to come here, but Layken has been nothing but kind to me. I’m starting to get used to not being bossed around and handed demands or walking on eggshells, so I don’t get hit. He’s never so much as raised his voice to me.”

“That’s real good. Had a gut feelin’ it would work out.” He pushed open the door to reveal a small room with one window, a bed, a toilet, and a stove. A chintz curtain hung limply over the dirty window.

“Needs a good cleanin’ for sure. But seems dry and sound.”

“Come with me back to the house. I need to put away the things we bought in town, and then we’ll make this room livable.”

“Now, don’t you worry none about me. I’ve stayed in lots worse places.”

“Nonsense. No reason I can’t help make it comfortable.”

“You’ve always had such a big heart, little girl. So much like your sweet mama.”

Sara Beth’s eyes misted. “She did have a big heart. I sure do miss her.”

“Didn’t mean to make you sad. Someday, when you’re ready, I can tell you stories about your mama you might not know.”

“I’d love that. For now, let’s get back to the house and get cleaning supplies.” She headed toward the door, then stopped and called, “Kitty. Kitty.” A soft meow answered, but the cat stayed hidden.

She liked that the cat had shown up. Maybe it would stick around and be some company for her old friend.

While they headed back to the house, she couldn’t resist the urge to scan the tree line, looking for any sign of the food thief.

All she glimpsed were birds and butterflies flitting among the trees.

To have Uncle Seymour here with her filled her heart to overflowing. He was family—much more than her so-called father.

Cuddles snuggled under her arm as if he could read her thoughts.

“This is a downright purty place.” Uncle Seymour followed her gaze.

“Yes, it is. And even though I didn’t think it possible, I’m already starting to think of it as home, and I’ve been here less than a week.”

“You didn’t have any other choice. Glad it’s working out.”

“Me, too, Uncle Seymour. Me too. And for the record, I’m glad Widow Jones fired you.”

She matched her steps with the slower ones of the man who meant so much to her.

“Reckon it was for the best.”

Life had put all three of them in situations with no choices.

Forced to play a hand with cards they couldn’t see, Layken, she, and Uncle Seymour would win.

She knew it deep down. How? And at what cost?

No one could answer that.

Working together as a unit would make each of them indestructible.

And everyone knew only the strongest would survive.