" She felt something shift behind her ribs, something that was hope trying to start and suspicion moving to cut it off before it could get anywhere dangerous. Why would you take on six children, she said flatly. Nobody takes on six children. Because the work I'm offering is worth having someone reliable do it, he said. And because you need somewhere safe to take them, he paused.
Those things aren't contradictions, ma'am. They can both be true at the same time. She studied him for a long moment. He met her eyes and waited. I want a written agreement, she said.
All right. With wages specified in terms and what happens if either party wants to end the arrangement. I expected you would, he said. I brought paper. That surprised her.
She hadn't expected him to be prepared for that. The fact that he was told her something she wasn't sure of yet, but it told her something. You'll wait on the porch while I get my children dressed, she said. Of course. She went back inside, still holding the knife, and stood in the kitchen for a moment with her back against the closed door.
Her heart was going faster than she'd like to admit. She looked around the kitchen, the empty shelves, the half-sack of cornmeal, the four remaining potatoes, and then she straightened up. She called Tessa. The written agreement took nearly an hour. Bramwell Concaid sat at her kitchen table with the paper and his pen and wrote down everything she said without argument.
Wages per month, paid on the first. Her own room adjacent to the children's rooms with a lock on the door. The children would work age appropriate tasks on the ranch in exchange for their food and lodging, but none of them would be separated from her. She would manage the household, not take orders from the ranch hands. If either party wanted to end the arrangement, 14 days notice in writing.
She pushed back on two things and he changed them. That told her something, too. He signed it. She signed it. She still didn't entirely trust him, but she trusted the document.
Tessa sat at the far end of the table through the whole negotiation, watching, and when it was done, she caught her mother's eye and gave a small nod that meant she thought it was acceptable. Miriam had learned to trust Tessa's assessments of people. For 12 years old, her daughter had an uncomfortable accuracy about them. "When would you want to leave? " Bramwell Concaid asked.