Goldie sniffed once more, but her eyes had begun to gleam. “What did you have in mind?”
Gotcha! “Margo will be spending the next eight years or so in college. She’s agreed to pay back every penny of her education out of what she earns as a scout. I’d like to tack an extra ten thousand onto the price tag. How’s this? I’ll buy the land. Then, every vacation Margo has, I’ll go up time and make her fly, walk, and crawl every inch of that river valley until she learns how to do aerial mapping right.”
Goldie hesitated, a veteran angler playing her “fish” with seasoned skill. “I don’t know, Kit. That’s an awfully expensive lesson.”
Kit grunted. “Not half as expensive as losing your granddaughter. Which, I might add, I damn near did.”
”Not to mention my life and Kit’s,” Malcolm added. “And that Welshman almost died on the operating table. Koot van Beek did die.”
Goldie hurried to change the subject. “About this proposition of yours … are you serious?”
”Dead serious,” Kit muttered darkly. -Margo isn’t setting foot across another gate until she’s learned every lesson I insist she master. Getting geography right is critical. If she’d done a better job of it, Koot van Beek might still be alive.”
Goldie tossed back the rest of her drink. “All right. I’m willing to help teach her a lesson. Come on, I have the paperwork down at my office.”
Malcolm, God bless him, maintained an absolute poker face.
Goldie couldn’t sign over the deed to the Shashe River property fast enough. Kit duly transferred ten thousand from his account into hers while Malcolm witnessed the signatures. “Goldie,” Kit said, kissing her hand gallantly, “you have a grandfather’s undying gratitude.”