“Honorarium-that’s like a salary?”

“Yep.”

“You get paid eight thousand dollars a year and get to live rent-free just for taking care of a field?”

His face darkened for a moment, but it passed. “That’s right,” he said, his voice strained. “Look, I don’t have time to do this right. In a few months I got to be back working every day seven in the morning to seven at night and I’ll be doing that until first frost, so I don’t have time to court a woman right. The contract requires me to get married and have a son, preferably two in case something happens to the older boy. I don’t have time to be messing around. You’re no beauty but you’re pleasant enough to look at. So you want to marry me?”

At first all she could do was stare at him open-jawed, then she found her voice and sputtered, “On our first date you’re going to propose to me? And that’s how you’re going to do it? By telling me I’m no beauty?”

She could almost see him swallow back the crack, ‘Well, you ain’t!’ His face reddened slowly as he looked back at her. “Look, I don’t got time to do this right. I apologize if I offended you. I ain’t socialized much in my life. I guess in your own way you’re pretty. But I told you I don’t got time to do this the way it should be done. Contract requires me to get married and have a son and it’s got to be done soon. You don’t want to, that’s fine, just tell me. I got my eye on other girls, you just the nicest.”

That last comment appeased her pride enough for her to answer back, “Well, you ain’t so good-looking yourself.”

“Never said I was, did I!”

“Well, least you could do is propose right!”

“I don’t got time for that!” But he got up off his chair, moved next to her and slowly lowered one knee to the floor, grimacing as he did so. After taking a ring from his pocket, he cleared his throat and looked like he needed to spit something out. “Lydia May Jones, will you marry me?” he asked, sliding the ring on her finger.