A Home in Drayton Valley Read Online Free

A Home in Drayton Valley
Book: A Home in Drayton Valley Read Online Free
Author: Kim Vogel Sawyer
Tags: Domestic Fiction, FIC042000, FIC042040, FIC042030, Life change events—Fiction, Man-woman relationships—Fiction, Pioneers—Kansas—Fiction, Wagon trains—Kansas—Fiction
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timepiece pinched between his fingers. Joss gritted his teeth and held his grumbles inside as he hauled the remaining bags of corn from their spot on the pier’s end to the waiting wagon. Finally Marsden barked, “Good enough. You can go.”
    Joss let the final bag slide from his fingers and drop beside the wagon. Without even a glance in his boss’s direction, he aimed his feet for home. But Marsden’s hand bolted out and captured Joss’s shirtsleeve.
    â€œGot a message for you from Lanker.”
    Joss’s mouth went dry, but he held his shoulders erect and set his face in a disinterested sneer. “That so?”
    â€œUh-huh. Said he’ll be here on payday, an’ he expects every penny. No more delays.”
    With a little shake of his arm, Joss freed himself from Marsden’s grip. If only he could rid himself of the gambler’s hold as easily. He forced a wry chuckle. “If you’re servin’ as one of Lanker’s errand boys, you must owe him, too.”
    Marsden blanched. “You know as well as I do nobody crosses Lanker—not if they wanna see tomorrow.” He glanced around as if seeking listening ears. “How much you in for?”
    Joss clamped his teeth together. Too much. More than he could possibly repay. What had compelled him to join that game last month? Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Enough.”
    Marsden clicked his tongue on his teeth. “I don’t envy you, Brubacher. Come next Friday, you best be ready to hand over your wages.” His gaze whisked from Joss’s scuffed boot toes to his little wool cap. “Even a fella as big as you won’t be standing when his gang is finished with you. Lanker gets his due one way or another.”
    Joss didn’t need the reminder. “Can I go now?”
    Marsden waved his hand in dismissal. “See you tomorrow. On time.”
    Spinning on his worn heel, Joss took his leave. Damp air scented with fish and salt chilled him, and he jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. His fingertips encountered a few coins. As if of their own accord, his feet slowed. An idea filled the back of his mind. One lucky roll. That’s all he needed to turn those cents into dollars. If he had to hand Lanker his entire pay envelope on Friday, he’d need something to carry his family through the next weeks. Even though his stomach rumbled, he changed direction and entered the closest saloon. One he rarely frequented. Safer to go where he wasn’t known, just in case some of Lanker’s men loitered about. They’d rid him of his meager coins if they caught sight of him.
    An hour later, raucous laughter chased Joss from the saloon. One of the revelers staggered to the doorway after him, his foul breath wafting to Joss’s nostrils. “You need to find a differ’nt game if you can’t toss dice any better’n that.”
    Joss whirled, his fists clenched. “Leave me be.”
    The man’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “Just givin’ you some advice, friend.” He offered a taunting grin. “You sure could use it.”
    Joss raised his fists. “I’m not your friend, and I don’t want your advice.”
    The drunken man took a stumbling step in reverse, holding up both palms. “Awright, awright.” He raised his bony shoulders in a shrug. “Don’t gotta get sore, fella. Shee, some people can’t take help when it’s bein’ offered.” He turned a clumsy half circle and reentered the saloon, muttering.
    Shoulders hunched and fists tucked in his empty pockets, Joss scuffed his way along the docks. He was in no hurry to get home. Mary would take one look at him and know where he’d been. The hurt in her eyes always stung more than his pa’s belt ever had. His stomach churned. Partly from hunger, partly from worry. So far he’d managed to hold Lanker at bay by handing over a portion of his pay and promising
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