happened!”
“I . . . I . . . was lookin’ for the pot o’ gold, Callie,” the child sobbed. “I almost had it. I did!”
Seizing him by the shoulders, Callie succumbed to her frustrations. “There’s nothing in the way of a pot of gold, Billy, and the sooner you know it, the better.”
“There is! There is! Granda says there is!” Billy protested through his tears. His little boy’s fists pounded at Callie.
“Here, here,” Byrch pulled Billy away. “You shouldn’t be hitting your sister that way, young man. Now tell me, what’s this about a pot of gold? Did you think you’d find it in the cartwright’s cellar?”
Billy nodded his head shyly. He was too young to verbalize his reasons, but in his little heart he believed in Granda’s stories.
Byrch smiled down at the child and quickly lifted him onto his broad shoulders. “Well now, Billy, when I was a boy about your age, I too heard tales abut the wee people and their gold. And I once heard that if you were smart enough to find a four-leaf clover and follow the way it was pointing, a handsome prize of gold you’d find.” Reaching into his pocket, Byrch withdrew a gold coin and pressed it into Billy’s hand. “Here’s your prize, boyo.”
Billy opened his hand and looked with amazement at the shiny coin. Then his features screwed into a frown. “But it’s not a whole pot o’ gold the way Granda said!”
“That’s because you went off without telling your sister,” Byrch reasoned. “The pot of gold is only for the most worthy and the best. You mustn’t frighten the ones who love you by taking risks, understand, Billy?”
Billy nodded in agreement. It was Callie who offered her protests. “Mr. Kenyon, I’ll thank you not to be filling my brother’s head with tales of wee people and the like. There’s enough of that from Granda. And as for the coin, you’re much too generous and have done quite enough already.” Her clear blue eyes held his. “After all you’ve done we couldn’t accept it, could we, Billy?”
“No! Mine!” Billy cried. “I gonna give it to Mum and Da!”
“Let him have it, won’t you?” Byrch interceded. “After all, it’s such a little coin for such a little boy.” His smile was warm and genuine and said that she mustn’t interpret the coin as charity. That, Byrch knew, Callie could never accept.
Chapter Three
Callie studied him for a long moment. “As long as it’s understood it’s not charity, Mr. Kenyon. I’m a girl who can take care of herself and her own.”
“Without a doubt,” he quickly agreed with a slightly lopsided grin.
“As I said, as long as it’s understood. If you’ll please put Billy down now, I’ve got to get back to the other children.”
“I’ll go with you. Which way are you heading?” It was casually asked, and his tone was friendly, but Callie was still skeptical. After all, it still wasn’t too late for him to have a twinge of conscience and turn her into the authorities.
“There’s no need. I’ll not let this one out of my sight again.” She indicated Billy with her glance.
“I insist.” The simple statement stifled further argument. “Billy and I are going to be friends, aren’t we, boyo?” He gripped the child’s ankles hanging down from his perch atop Byrch’s shoulders.
Callie led the way back to the park where the other children waited. “So, at last I know your full name,” he told her, watching for her reaction. “It’s James, isn’t it?”
Stopping dead in her tracks, she faced him, irritated and again suspicious. “And how would you be knowing that?”
“Billy’s your brother and I heard you calling him Billy James. Not an amazing piece of deduction, I assure you.”
“You’re quick with your mind, you are. Or at least you’d have me believe. Are you sure you weren’t snooping around asking questions? You seemed overly curious about me when you walked me part way home.” She tried to pretend indifference, but inside her heart was racing.
“A newspaper man should be quick and clever. I’ve done my share of hunting down stories and getting to the truth.” He was thinking that when he got back to the States he’d like to do a story on Callie James. People were hungry for news of their homeland, and aside from politics, Byrch liked nothing better than a human interest story. Of course, he dared not mention this to her. Her fear of being betrayed was almost tangible. His hands gripping Billy’s ankles could feel the small, delicate bones in the boy’s legs. An occasional basket of food would never be enough to put meat on this thin, growing body. What Billy needed, what all children needed, was a proper diet each and every day.
Breaking into his thoughts, Callie asked, “What were you doing down on Bayard Street? It isn’t exactly the kind of place a gentleman like you does his business.”
“I’m not the only quick mind, it would seem,” he complimented. “Actually I was looking for you. I had no idea how far you still had to go after you ran away, and I was worried. I thought if anything had happened, it would be talked about and I’d hear it.” The hard truth was that he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Throughout the morning he’d been unable to complete the smallest task without wondering if she’d made it home safely. He knew he couldn’t leave Ireland without knowing she was secure from the law.
Callie was surprised to find herself grateful. Perhaps she had been too hard on him. Glancing up, looking into his smiling face, she knew she had found a friend, and she returned his smile.
Byrch felt as though the sun had warmed his bones. She was lovely, this woman-child, and he suspected that there was a gaiety about her just beneath the surface of her powerful determination to surmount the hardships life had tossed her way. He liked the way her clear blue eyes met his steadily, and how her slim, delicately shaped nose turned up at the very tip, lending a saucy air to the structure and planes of her face. It was still a child’s face, rounded near the chin and pink at the cheeks from the March winds, but some day, Byrch knew instinctively, Callie James would be a beautiful woman if disease and privation didn’t alter the course of her future.
Georgie, Hallie, and Bridget waited near the edge of the park, anxious for Callie’s return. They were surprised to see the tall man carrying Billy on his shoulders and watched with a combination of shyness and curiosity.
Seeing his siblings, Billy began shouting, “I found it! I found it! Look!” He held out the gold coin Byrch had given him.
Georgie looked with amazement from his baby brother to Callie and then back at the coin. “You . . . you found the pot o’ gold?”
“No, him gave it to me,” Billy explained seriously. “Next time I find the pot!”
Byrch hoisted Billy back to the ground where the others could get a closer look at the coin. “I almost found it,” Billy said.
Callie rolled her eyes. Now she would never convince the children that the wee people were only make-believe. “You’ve made a hard job harder, Mr. Kenyon. There’s no room in our lives for believing in leprechauns and the like. Nothing save good luck and hard work will save us.” But the child in Callie rose victorious.
