isn’t it?”
Tessa nodded. She forced words past her lips. “Yes sir.”
A wide smile filled his face. “It’s Gideon. What can I get for you today, Tessa?”
Tessa reached into her skirt pocket and extracted a nickel. “Is this enough to buy some crackers and cheese?”
Gideon’s gaze traveled to the coin in her hand. His eyebrows lifted, and Tessa could only guess what he must be thinking. He crossed to the counter and pulled layers of cheesecloth away from a large, waxed round of cheese. With a deft motion, he cut a generous wedge, too generous to cost only five cents. He wrapped the cheese in paper then scooped a handful of crackers into a paper bag. “Here you go.” Gideon slid her purchase across the counter.
She laid her nickel beside the paper-wrapped cheese. “Thank you.”
“I want to extend my condolences again for the loss of your mother.”
The tears that consumed her earlier threatened again. She pressed her lips together and drew in a tight breath to deny any show of emotion in this public place.
Another customer entered the store, and Gideon greeted the woman politely. He glanced about the store. “Is your father with you?”
The mere mention of Papa set her stomach spinning. Fear and grief collided in her chest. Should she tell Gideon her father had up and left her? What kind of explanation could she give? That she was worthless and her father had no use for her? That she was alone and had no idea how she was going to survive? “No, he must have had something else to do.”
“So where are you folks from, and where are you headed?”
She wasn’t headed anywhere—now. Harsh truth accosted her, but courtesy required she answer Gideon. “Papa had a farm back in Indiana. But he didn’t like being a farmer.”
“Indiana, huh? Good farm country there. Why didn’t your pa want to farm?”
“Work was too hard, I guess. He raised hogs and grew corn, but he said he couldn’t make enough money to keep body and soul together.”
Gideon nodded like he understood. “Farming isn’t easy, and that’s a fact. Your crop can depend on a lot of things—weather, insects, blight. Anything can turn a harvest sour no matter how hard a man works.”
Tessa felt heat crawling up her neck. Papa failed to turn a decent profit because he drank more than he worked the fields or cared for the pigs. He’d charged her with the animals’ care and railed at her when the porkers brought a lower than expected price. How could she tell Gideon the embarrassing truth?
“Has your pa come west to try farming here in Iowa?”
She didn’t know why Gideon was interested, but she didn’t wish to be rude. “Papa heard some men talking about gold strikes in the Black Hills country. He figured he could get rich if we went there and dug for gold.”
Gideon’s brows dipped into a V. “A few folks pulled some gold out of there several years back, but not many got rich. There’s been no report of gold strikes up there for a long time. Maybe the man at the land office can give your pa information about farmland hereabouts. Lots of farmers here in Iowa have harvested bountiful crops of corn and wheat, and for the past several years, there’s been a lot of farmers raising porkers and cattle, too. Your pa could do well here.”
If Papa could’ve stayed away from the bottle long enough to devote time and energy to their farm, they’d still be in Indiana. Maybe Mama would still be alive. Instead he’d decided to chase a harebrained dream of getting rich, while putting Mama through the rigors of traveling to goldfields that were nothing more than a mirage. Tears burned their way to the surface and spilled over. Her throat convulsed when she tried to swallow back the sobs.
Gideon’s eyes widened, and his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I didn’t mean to—”
Tessa didn’t wait to hear any more. She ran out the door, mortified at her lack of control in front of Gideon.
She picked up her skirts and