see Rosie, tell her goodbye from me.” Since Father’s conviction, Will has not even seen the girl. He is not certain her feelings toward him are unchanged, and for this reason cannot bear to promise to write her.
Will plods along the road with heaviness in his heart and boots. He recalls those times he wished he could leave home on an adventure — to strike out on his own, explore the world beyond Golden. Only in his imagination he never pictured leaving quite so soon, or being so young, or having to carry the burdens of the world on his shoulders.
A sudden chilly wind comes up from behind. Will pulls up the collar on his wool coat and buries his face in the scarf his mother knitted for him last Christmas. It was made from an old sweater of Father’s, and if he breathes deeply, it still smells of him.
How things have changed these past nine months since the family was all together. But even when they were all under one roof, he could not exactly say they were happy times. For, in fact, they were all nearly starving. Father made excuses that it was because an avalanche in the mountains had cut off access to the supply train from Calgary. But Will knew it was because their crops had been poor again that year — no surprise when there was barely a trickle of water running through their land. And Will knew no amount of complaining by Father had helped. The town elders knew full well that David Craig had diverted the creek from the Maguire farm, but no one would speak out against the man or lift a finger to help the family.
It was in a state of near-starvation and madness that Kenneth Maguire met David Craig on the road that fateful day in March 1888. Will should have known what frame of mind his Father was in and stopped him from leaving home. He should have been there to prevent the angry words and threats that led to the vicious fight — the fight that ended with shots fired from his father’s rifle. But he did not know … and he was not there to stop the two men, or to stop the bullet that ended one man’s life and led to the imprisonment of the other.
Will’s heart feels as if it is being crushed by a steel vise. He feels such despair that were it not for the promise he made to Father he would crawl into the ditch and let the icy water freeze him solid. For now he must push his misery aside and quicken his pace. If he is to make the noon-hour train, he must hurry.
Chapter Four
Perfect! Aunt Norma’s car was gone, and Licorice was waiting on the porch to be let in. It was going to be just him, me, and some warmed-up cornbread drenched in syrup for lunch — and an afternoon of reading.
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