The Christmas Bargain

The Christmas Bargain

Copyright 2012

by Shanna Hatfield

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of "permission request” at the email address below or through her website.

Shanna Hatfield

[email protected]

shannahatfield.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Books by Shanna Hatfield

FICTION

The Christmas Bargain

The Coffee Girl

Learnin’ the Ropes

QR Code Killer

Grass Valley Cowboys Series

The Cowboy’s Christmas Plan

The Cowboy’s Spring Romance

The Cowboy’s Summer Love

The Cowboy’s Autumn Fall

The Women of Tenacity Series

The Women of Tenacity - A Prelude

Heart of Clay

Country Boy vs. City Girl

Not His Type

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NON-FICTION

Savvy Entertaining Series

Savvy Holiday Entertaining

Savvy Spring Entertaining

Savvy Summer Entertaining

Savvy Autumn Entertaining

To those who come to the rescue,

offer hope,

and keep the true meaning of the season

in their hearts every day of the year.

Chapter One

Eastern Oregon, 1893

“I done told ya already, Luke, I ain’t got the money,” Alford Booth whined in a nasally tone that made Luke Granger tightly clamp his square jaw while a vein pulsed in his neck.

Slowly removing his hat and running a hand through his thick  golden hair, Luke tried to keep his irritation with the man from showing. If Alford spent a little less time drinking and a lot more time working his land, they wouldn’t be having this discussion. Luke rued the day Alford stepped foot in his bank and asked for a loan.

“I’ve extended all the time I can, Alford. You know the loan is already ten months past due,” Luke said, trying to hold on to the edges of his quickly fraying temper.

Alford stared at him a moment through glazed eyes before spewing a stream of tobacco juice that barely missed Luke’s boot.

“Well, ya know I planned to pay ya off after harvest. Weren’t my fault we had a drought this year and the crop failed. Weren’t my fault at all.”

Releasing a sigh, Luke leveled his icy blue stare on Alford. He was somewhat gratified to see the man grow uncomfortable and uneasy. “It’s never your fault, is it Alford? Always someone else’s fault, but you aren’t the only one who’s had a hard year. I’m sorry about that but you’ve got to make some form of payment.”

“Some form?” Alford asked with an odd glint in his eye that made Luke wary.  “Ya mean ya’d take somethin’ other than cash?”

Luke thought carefully about his response. Alford would weasel his way out of the loan if Luke gave him an inch of finagling room. “It would greatly depend on what that something was.”

Alford smiled, revealing several missing spaces in his rotten teeth. “I’ll give ya my daughter. Will that settle the debt?”

“What?” Luke’s head jerked up, sure he misheard the drunken old coot. “What did you say?”

“Take my daughter. She ain’t much to look at, but she can cook and clean. She’s strong and can work all the day long. The girl ain’t too bright, though. Sometimes ya got to show her who’s boss, but a firm hand straightens her out in no time. Ya need a cook and housekeeper, don’t ya?”

Seething with disgust that the man would try to barter his daughter to settle his debts, Luke clenched the brim of his hat in his hands to keep from popping Alford with his fist. “That is not an acceptable payment, Alford. Not at all.”

“Then I guess I’ll give her to Cecil to settle my bill. He said he’d give me some cash besides. I can haul her in this evenin’ after she cleans up the supper dishes and get ya yer money tomorra,” Alford said, scratching his rotund belly with a dirt-encrusted hand.

Luke was seeing red. He didn’t care how homely the girl was or how desperate Alford might be for cash, he couldn’t rationalize that a father would trade his daughter to Cecil Montague, the local saloon owner and keeper of  the town’s “soiled doves,”  to pay off his bills.

“I’ll take the girl,” Luke said, surprised when the words rushed out, wishing he could reel them back.

Alford smiled again and nodded his filthy head. “I’ll send her over to yer place tomorra.”

“No,” Luke said, not trusting Alford to keep his word. “I’ll take her with me now.”

“But what about my supper?” Alford whined, suddenly realizing he’d be losing his own cook and housekeeper.

Luke stood to his full height of six-foot, three-inches, and towered over the sniveling man before him. “What about it?”

“I…well…”Alford said, fear filling his face as he backed away from Luke and the menacing look that was turning ice blue eyes hard and cold. “I reckon I can make do.”

“I reckon you will,” Luke said, walking toward the house with Alford following along behind. When they got to the door, Luke waited for Alford to open it and go inside. Expecting filth and foul smells, Luke was taken aback by the clean, albeit shabby interior. Everything was neat and tidy and the delicious smell of stew filled the room, making his mouth water.

A tall figure, clad in a dress the color of dirt, leaned over a scarred table, setting down bowls and spoons. Her hair was covered with a kerchief, and a large white apron hid the rest of her.

“Philamena, ya remember Mr. Granger. He owns the bank in town,” Alford said, pointing to Luke as he ambled to the table and pulled up a chair.

The woman, who was painfully thin, cast a quick glance Luke’s direction, but never raised her eyes to his. She quietly nodded her head as she stood clasping her work-reddened hands primly in front of her.

Luke tried to think of the last time he had seen Philamena Booth. He vaguely recalled her as a happy, smiling child from school days, but being a few grades behind him, he hadn’t paid her any attention. She didn’t come to church, shop in town or, as far as he knew, ever leave the farm.

He remembered seeing her once when he rode out trying to collect on a loan Alford made a few years ago. She was out at the barn and ran to the house while he was dismounting. If memory served him correctly, she was garbed in an ugly dirt-colored dress then, too.

 Luke tipped his head her direction, trying to reconcile himself to his decision. The last thing he wanted or needed was a timid scrawny woman on his hands. But he couldn’t exactly ride off and leave her, knowing her father was willing to turn her over to Cecil. No woman deserved that kind of fate.

“Ma’am,” Luke said, softly. “Pleasure to see you again.”

She barely nodded her head, then turned and got another chipped bowl from a cupboard and set it on the table. Alford motioned for Luke to sit down, which he did.

Pouring them both a cup of cold water, Philamena dished up heaping bowls of vegetable stew for the two men. Her bowl hardly had enough in it to feed a bird, causing Luke to study her. She ate with fine manners, her back straight as a rod, while her father shoveled in his meal like it was the last one he’d have.

When his bowl was empty, Alford banged it once in Philamena’s direction then burped loudly. She got up from the table and filled his bowl with the remains in the stew pot before quietly returning to her seat.

Finished eating, Alford scratched at his scraggly beard then glanced Luke’s direction. Luke offered a cool glare that seemed to loosen Alford’s tongue.

“Daughter, Mr. Granger has come to collect on his loan and seein’ as how we can’t pay, he agreed to settle for somethin’ else. Get yer stuff, yer leavin’ with him.”

Philamena’s head shot up and she stared at her father, unmoving. From his seat at the table, Luke could only see her profile, but imagined the look of shock that settled on her face.

“Ya heard me, gal. Clean up them dishes then get yer things.” Alford drained his water cup and set it on the table with a thunk.