In a Heartbeat - Elizabeth Adler [48]
“I’ve come to you with my last offer.” Hains stood on the rickety porch out of the rain, arms folded over his barrel chest. He was a big man, bigger even than eighteen-year-old Mitch, who hovered in the background, ears wagging as he strained to catch the dialogue.
“Ah’m wonderin’ just why you want my land so bad, Mr. Hains.” Farrar shoved his hands even deeper into the pockets of his overalls.
“Simple.” Hains’s glance shifted to Mitch. “I want to increase my farm holdings. I’ve bought all the surrounding land. Your acres will complete my parcel. And I’m willing to give you a fair price for it.”
Ellin folded her arms across her chest, unconsciously mimicking Hains, only hers was a defensive gesture. The man made her uncomfortable, wary.
“And if Ah might consider your offer,” Farrar said, “and Ah’m not saying Ah will—exactly what would that offer amount to?”
Hains’s unreadable dark eyes met his. “I’m offering you more than one-hundred-percent profit on your land. Much more. Two thousand dollars.”
Ellin sucked in her breath. It was a lot of money. But Farrar was already doing quick calculations in his head. He had paid four hundred. Two thousand would take him years to earn, but most of that would be gone on just livin’. Meanwhile, he owned his own land, his family lived off it, there was a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. Without the farm, he would be back to sharecropping, working for Hains for a pittance, and his sons with him. He’d be darned if he’d worked from being ten years old to end up back where he came from. Besides, if the rumor was true, his land was worth a lot more than two thousand.
“Ah thank you for your offer, Mr. Hains,” Farrar said. “But Ah reckon Ah’ll keep my farm.”
Hains’s fleshy face grew mottled with frustration and anger, but he kept his voice under control. “I’ll add a sweetener. I’ll take your boy, Mitch, into my firm. Apprentice him, y’might call it. He’ll learn the business, learn how to manage my land. I’ll pay him a fair wage and he’ll be off your hands. One less mouth to feed.”
“Aye, and one less son to work my own land.” Farrar shook his head, adamant.
Ed heard Mitch’s angry gasp and glanced sideways at him. His narrow eyes were slits of fury, his mouth turned down, his jaw clenched.
You knew about this, he thought, astonished. You’d discussed it all with Michael Hains, plotted how to get Dad’s land away from him. He felt an ache of betrayal in his heart. Traitor, he thought. You would have traded your family, your birthright, for a few thousand dollars and a chance to work with an immoral man like Michael Hains.
Hains unfolded his arms, stood, legs spread, hands on his hips. Arrogant, contemptuous. Powerful. “Is that your final word?”
“It’ll be my last word, Mr. Hains.” As always, Farrar was polite.
Hains turned on his heel. He stalked down the rickety porch steps, bulling his way through the mud and torrential rain.
Farrar swung around, confronting Mitch. “What d’you mean, going behind my back to Michael Hains, plotting how to get my land from me? Our land. Our family’s land. All Ah’ve worked for. All Ah have to leave you. What kind of son are you?”
Mitch took an angry step toward his father. He towered over him, his big hands clenched into fists. For a second, Ed thought he was going to punch his father, and he stepped quickly between the two.
Mitch’s anger exploded. “You just cost me the best job any man could have. Mah one chance at a different life. All for what?” Mitch flung his arms wide, staring furiously around at the dripping trees, the rutted yard, and the sodden land beyond. “So Ah can be like you? Live in the boondocks for the rest of my life? Break mah back to earn enough to do what? Put food on the table? Barely clothe us? Educate us? Bah!” He spat contemptuously at his father’s feet. “That’s what I think of you and your precious land. It was worthless before Hains offered you the money. Now it’s worth nothing. Zero. Get that into your head, Father!”
He stared murderously into his father’s eyes for a full minute