Treasured Land (Ebook and Paperback Sample)

Chapter One

Cutting through two houses, Brigid emerged on the other side to a view of canvas sprawled out in front of her for as far as she could see. The melee of noise emanating from the people residing there made her dread entering the maze of temporary housing. Coming from Thomas’s farm, where it was peaceful and life had a lovely way about it, to this made her head spin a little. Taking a deep breath, she hitched up the skirt of her dress, which was plain but serviceable and had become a tad too short these past months, and headed in the direction she was told her father was sure to be. She didn’t know the area at all and tried to remember the instructions given to her at the mercantile. Like the storeman said, the tents were laid out in rows, making it easier for her to navigate through them.

“Hello, lovely. It’s good to see you again. You’re off to see your pa? Stop by on your way back through.”

Brigid smiled politely at the old man. She’d met him a while ago with her father. Whenever he saw her, he always said hello. She was not sure how or when her father first met him, and she could never remember his name. Since her father said he was a decent man, Brigid was always polite to him. “Aye, I am.”

He smiled his toothless smile at her and nodded his head. He smelled strongly of spirits, even from where she was standing, and Brigid felt sympathy for him. She knew he had nowhere to go and wondered briefly what drove a man who was down on his luck like this to spend his money on drink. Perhaps he thought himself too old for anything else.

“I will bring ye back something tae eat when I fetch supper for Da.”

“You are a sweetheart, yes you are.”

“Alright then, ye stay safe till I get back,” she said. He nodded. She knew her father wouldn’t mind her promising him food. He was good to people like that.  Too excited to see her father after their long time apart, she hastily waved goodbye and continued to make her way through the tents.

“Hello there, doll, and where are you off to?”

 Brigid flinched when someone grabbed her arm. This was another reason she was rushing. But unfortunately, the close quarters of the tents made bumping into undesirables unavoidable.

“Let go of me arm. I have nae time for this. Me da is expecting me,” she said in her lilting Irish voice. Her accent was not as thick as her father’s, but her scowl was just as mean, and the look that crossed this man’s face as he held onto her arm told her it had done the trick. She reefed her arm from his grasp, and without looking back, she took off through the throng of people again.

Brigid slowed her pace, counting the tents as she neared where her father should be. She stopped when she thought she found the right one. Before she could enter, or say anything, the flaps were thrown open, and a pale, skinny-looking man stepped out from behind them. He didn’t see her in his haste to leave the tent, and Brigid had to shuffle backward to make room for him to emerge.

“Oh, sorry,” the man said, peering over his crooked glasses. “I didn’t expect to find anyone standing there.” He had a piece of cloth hanging from the waist of his pants and wiped his hands on it right before he stuck one out for Brigid to shake. He seemed quirky to her, and shy. She was not shy but warily took his hand as he introduced himself. “The name is Ian. I’m a doctor, and if I am to guess, you must be Brigid?”

Alarm shot through Brigid like someone had let a gun go off right behind her. Why would this doctor know her name? Unless… Rudely pushing past him into the tent, she found her father sitting on the cot bed, with his head hung and hands resting on his knees.

Her excitement suddenly waned, replaced with fear. “Da.”

Patrick Griffin was not a tall man, and actually, Brigid thought she was probably near his height, but he was usually quite stocky. Looking at him sitting there, in the darker shades of the canvas tent, Brigid could tell he had lost some considerable amount of weight.