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He. eased back from the table. "Well, I think Ill go up and read. Im halfway through that treatise by Professor Mittlebaum. "
"Really? Is it any good?"
He smiled, but even that was a poor imitation of the old days. "His evidence seems to bolster my theory that Pikes Peak is the place to start digging. "
Sadness tried to creep in on her, but she pushed it away. "Thats wonderful. "
"Yeah. " He sighed wistfully. "Maybe someday well go there together. " He said the words softly, and Mariah could tell that he tried to sound hopeful. Tried and failed.
And no wonder. It was a sentence hed said before, too often. The words sliced past her brittle armor and pierced her heart. It was another disappointment, another little way shed let her father down.
They both knew she wouldnt be trekking to Colorado with him. It had been years since shed even left the farm.
He pushed slowly to his feet. "Well, Ill see you in the morning. "
Mariah forced a smile. "Good. Ive a long list of chores for Mr. Stone. If hes still here. "
"He will be. "
"I doubt it, but if he is, we might as well get our moneys worth. No telling how long hell stay. "
"Where were you thinking of starting him tomorrow?"
"I dont know. The porch needs whitening . . . and the apples might be ready. "
The apples . . . your way?"
She stiffened, stung by his criticism. "Theres nothing wrong with the way I harvest the apples. "
"Course not. " He smiled tiredly down at her. "Night. "
"Night, Rass. See you at five-twenty. "
"Five-twenty. " He shuddered. "God, I hate farmers hours. "
Mariah smiled at the familiar complaint and got to her feet. As soon as her father left the room, she started clearing the table and stacking the dirty dishes on the slopstone.
Maybe someday well go there together.
She gazed out the window, trying to banish the hurt. Through the shadowy, moonlit darkness of the farm, she saw it, marching across the property in a straight, arrow-tipped line. The fence.
She closed her eyes, unable to look at it. But the darkness didnt help, didnt take away the shameful sting of her past. Or the irrationality of her fear.
Once, long ago, she hadnt been afraid to leave the farm. Shed run through that gate with ease, laughing all the way to the train. Sixteen years old, shed been, full of life and fire and dreams. Unafraid.
Her smile faded. Now, what had made her think of that? It had been years since shed thought about those days, those memories. Why would they come back to her now?
But she knew. It was because of him. He was reminding her of a past she wanted to forget.
She curled her hands around the cool porcelain of the sink and stared out the window. He was making her feel things she didnt want to feel, think about things she wanted to forget.
"Damn him," she whispered. Shed spent fifteen years making her life safe and secure, making her heart and soul untouchable. And now Mr. Shiftless sauntered in here and wanted to change all that.
She wouldnt have it. Shed worked too hard to forget to let some no-account drifter make her remember.
Somehow, she had to get rid of him.
Mad Dog set his plate down and stood up, stretching his arms. The cool autumn night wrapped around him, wreathed him in the tangy scents of ripening fruit and dying leaves. A million stars twinkled in the velvet sky.
