Page 77 of Sawyer

“It’s not my legacy anymore,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and wishing I’d put my boots on. My feet are getting cold. “You made that clear.”

“You are making me angry.”

“You’ve made me angry for years,” I snap back.

“Damn it, Ivy! Youwillre-engage yourself to him!” His complexion matches our hair color. Red. Wild. Furious.

“No, Father,” I say, quaking a little inside at his anger. “I will not. I’m in love with someone else. Someone who loves me and—”

“I don’t give a sh—”

“Clark’s a cheater! He’s been with other women in Juneau. I have proof!”

“Who cares? What did you expect? You left him there. All alone.”

“Wow,” I say, taking a step away from my father. “If all it takes for Clark to cheat is me is not being in his line of sight…”

“Marriage is what it is. You have to—”

“That’s not what I want!” I bellow at him. “I don’t want the kind of marriage you and my mother had. I don’t even know if Iwantto get married. Right now, all I want is to love and be loved, to trust someone who knows he can trust me, too. And, Father, I think I’ve found that—”

“I can assure you that you haven’t.” He scoffs. “Life isn’t a fairytale. Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s stupid to want love and kindness? Understanding? Trust and respect? Loyalty?”

“Loyalty?” he demands. “Ha! If you knew an ounce about loyalty, you’d go back to Juneau and make nice with the people who can triple our annual profits with a signature.”

I clench my teeth together. I tell myself not to explode, but I still do.

“Money isn’t all that matters! Money doesn’t equal happiness!”

“Doesn’t matter? How areyoumy child? I always wondered if your mother had an affair! Now, I’m convinced she did!”

Tears—so weak and useless—spring into my eyes. He’s only saying this to hurt me. Whether he likes it or not, I’m his spitting image. My DNA has never been up for debate.

I ignore his remark about my mother and tell myself, again, to calm down. “Money matters. Of course it matters. But it’s love that leads to happiness. I’ve found love here in Skagway. So, I won’t be going back to Clark. Not ever.”

My father takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He doesn’t like being challenged, and he especially doesn’t like being challenged by someone like me—his daughter, his chattel—who should blindly and blithely do his bidding.

“Love is important to you,” he says.

“It is.”

“And you love your aunt.”

I know where this is going, and I’m ready.

“I do.”

“Then it may upset you to know that any day now I will get a bill for your aunt’s last chemotherapy treatment, and if you don’t agree to marry Clark Rupert, I will deny payment. Your aunt anduncle will be left to pay a large bill which they definitely cannot afford. Andyouwill be responsible for—”

“I paid it.”

He blinks at me. “Wh—What now?”

“I already paid for Aunt Priscilla’s last chemo treatment,” I say, wishing I felt more victorious. But I only feel profound sadness that he was willing to go to such lengths to force my hand.

“When? How? I cut you off!”

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