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Albie took him there.
* * *
The next few days were blissful. Percy’s head felt clearer every day, his tiredness subsided, and he was back to himself in no time.
It’d been scary, all in all, just how fast Percy’s life changed in an instant. He had no idea that a simple knock to the head could be so worrisome. He didn’t even remember hitting his head when he went down that ledge, but he realised that was the problem.
He remembered hearing the little boy cry. He remembered peering over the edge and seeing him. Then he remembered being on Minnie and heading back.
He remembered his head pounding, both dull and sharp pains, but his only concern was getting that frozen boy back to his parents.
He didn’t remember taking McAllister’s thirty pounds, and despite Albie’s wishing he hadn’t, Percy was glad he did.
He sat the money on the table with Albie’s ledger, offering it to him.
“What are you doing with that?” Albie asked.
“I’m giving it to you.”
“No, you’re not,” Albie argued. “It’s yours.”
“If it’s mine,” Percy countered, “then it’s mine to do with as I see fit. And I’m giving it to you.”
Albie glared at him, and Elsie and Clara took the pot of tea and backed out of the room, wide-eyed and very eager to take no part in this discussion.
“You might need new boots,” Albie said, still refusing to accept the money.
“I have your old pair.”
“With the soles almost out of them.”
“Almost. Not out of them yet.”
“Percy.”
“Albie.”
Albie growled. “I cannot accept this.”
“You can and you will. Buy enough feed for the horses to see them fed for a year. Or buy some more stock, another bull and some cows.”
Albie’s eyes flinched, and Percy could see reason was warring with his pride, so Percy struck while the iron was hot.
“Use it to pay the farrier. Use it to?—”
“It’s not for me to use, Percy,” he said, more gently this time.
No, not gentle.
Resigned.
Percy stepped in close so if Elsie and Clara were listening from the kitchen, they couldn’t hear. “You took me in when you could barely afford it. You took those two women in when you could barely afford them either. You’re a good man, Albie. And this thirty pounds is the least of what I would give you if I could.” He searched his brown eyes. “Take the money and use it for the betterment of this farm. Being proud is one thing, Albie. Don’t be foolish along with it.”
Indignation flashed in his eyes. “I am not?—”
Percy put his fingers to Albie’s lips. “The money is yours, as is my heart,” he murmured. “I would give you the world if I could, Albie. Don’t deny me this.”
Was that a low blow?
