Sweet Rosie Read Online Free PDF Page B

thank you.’
    ‘Well, let us hope it remains that way,’ he said and Llinos looked at him long and hard. He shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with the inkpot on his desk, his eyes refusing to meet hers.
    ‘Who is issuing threats, now, Mr Sparks?’ Llinos let herself out of the office. She was blind with fury that she should be treated like a fool, patronized by a man who was so bigoted and prejudiced that he dared to look down on Joe. He was not fit to clean Joe’s boots.
    She could not face seeking out Joe at the hotel; she had suffered enough upset for one day. ‘Take me straight home, Kenneth,’ she said to her driver. She had a headache coming on, she was trembling, she had not fully recovered her strength. Mr Sparks had caught her off guard, piercing her normal reserve with his insolence. He had obviously been given a bribe to persuade her to sell and, bragging about his powers of persuasion, now he had fallen flat on his face. Llinos knew she had made an enemy that morning and, if she read Mr Sparks correctly, he would not hesitate to take his revenge if ever the opportunity arose.
    Joe walked across the farmlands he had bought when his son was born. He had no need to work at anything; his father had left him so well provided for that he need never work again. But Joe was not used to being idle. Back home in America he had learned the ways of his tribe. He had helped, even as a child, to build stockades and repair the broken beams of the lodges. He had respected the laws of the Mandan tribe. Until he had married Llinos. Then he had smashed those laws into tiny pieces.
    But he could never forget that part of him was white. He had been sent to an English school, he had learned new ways. He had learned his lessons well, both in the classroom and on the playing fields of the Merton School for Young Gentlemen. And then he had gone to war.
    Joe had, in a strange way, enjoyed the fight against Napoleon Bonaparte. On the fields of France and Belgium he had been in his element, using his tracking skills and his native intuition to beat the man who single-handedly threatened the peace of Joe’s world.
    Joe had been batman to Lloyd Savage; they had become companions, forging a bond and a mutual respect for each other that rose above rank. But Lloyd had not wanted Joe as a son-in-law, indeed he had done everything he could to prevent the marriage. And yet, at the end, Lloyd had been happy enough that Joe would be there to look after Llinos when he had gone to his heaven.
    Joe paused, looking down the hillside towards the rolling fields. The sea beyond sparkled like diamonds in the sun. Why did men seek material riches when there were riches all around in nature for them to enjoy?
    He did not want to dwell too much on the past, on the days after Lloyd’s death when he had been accused of his murder. Since then Joe had never used the herbs and spices used by the Mandan to treat sickness. That sort of medicine was not understood by so-called civilized people. He sighed, wondering if Lloyd would have approved of him now that his fortune had increased. It was strange the way money came to those who did not seek it. Fate had played a trick on him: here he was standing on the hills of Wales, staring out to sea, feeling proud that all the rolling greenery before him was his. Was he losing his Indian beliefs, the beliefs he had grown up with?
    Among the men of the Mandan tribe, land was for everyone. No-one owned the earth, the sky or the waters. Perhaps he thought differently now that he was a husband and father. Now he wanted security for his wife and for his son. Was that the spur that drove men to toil in smoky sheds and pits?
    He heard his name being called and looked downwards to where a tall figure was climbing the hill towards him.
    ‘Eynon!’ He held out his hand as the man drew close. ‘It’s good to see you. We don’t see enough of you since you sold the pottery.’
    ‘I know.’ Eynon sank onto the ground and took a