Forever and Always (5 page)

“I
know
why,” Sibyl said, “but no one is ever going to put the reason into words. I can forgive you for forcing me to marry Norman—it wasn't a good solution, but it was probably the only one possible—but I will not forgive you
that
.” She realized she was so angry she was shaking. She had to calm down. She would never convince anyone she could handle her own affairs if she couldn't control her emotions. She'd done that for seven years with Norman, and she could do it now.

“Now I want you to go home. I've had a very difficult few days, and I need time to get back to normal. I still don't know how this is going to affect Kitty. Tomorrow I have to go to the bank. I can't let Cassie and Horace lose their jobs.”

“I can help,” her father offered.

“I want to do this by myself. All my life I've been treated as though I can't do anything beyond keep house. I think I can do more. Starting tomorrow I intend to find out.”

* * *

“You didn't have to come back so soon,” Cassie said to Sibyl. “Horace and I could have handled things until you felt up to it.”

Sibyl was unhappy to find Cassie waiting when she came to open the bank. She had hoped to spend the day alone in Norman's office. It was time to decide if she would sell the bank or try to manage it herself.

“I'm not opening the bank,” Sibyl said. “I don't know anything beyond unlocking the door at the start of the day and closing up at the end.”

Cassie laughed. “Some days that's about all we do. The new bank has taken away a lot of business.”

“Norman never talked about that, but I knew. I guess I'll have to get familiar with the accounts. Do you know where they are?”

Cassie laughed again. “Of course not. Everybody knows Norman only hired me because he thought my looks would bring in customers. He thought I was dumber than a mule deer. You could have cut out his tongue before he would have told me where to find anything in his office.”

“All I have is the combination to the safe. I found it in his wallet.”

“Do you have the key to his desk?”

Sibyl extracted a ring of keys from her pocket. “I'm hoping it's one of these.”

Cassie sighed in disgust. “How did Norman expect you to deal with his affairs when he died if he didn't tell you anything?”

“I don't believe Norman thought he would die, and certainly not before me.”

“No point in fretting about what can't be changed. If you're not going to open today, what will I tell people who come by?”

“That we're closed.”

“When will you reopen?”

“I don't know.”

“It's better to have a specific date. You can always change it later.”

Sibyl didn't know why Norman hadn't given Cassie more responsibility. The young woman was as capable as any man when it came to common sense. “Tell people three days from now. I ought to have made up my mind what to do by then.”

“I hope you decide to keep the bank,” Cassie said. “It's about time people in this town learned a woman can do more than cook and take care of babies.”

“I'm not interested in setting any precedents, just doing what's best for Kitty and me.”

“That's staying here and running this bank.” Cassie grinned broadly. “And making sure Horace and I still have jobs.”

Sibyl had already thought of that. Cassie and Horace weren't the only ones who depended on the bank for a job. But if she kept the bank, it was quite possible she would ruin it, and no one would have a job. It was enough to make her wish Norman were still alive—as long as she wasn't married to him.

“Don't worry about me,” Cassie said before Sibyl could think of a suitable reply. “I can always get a job, but you need to think of Horace and the others.”

“I intend to think of all of you,” Sibyl assured her. “Now I'd better see about getting started.”

She told herself it was silly to feel uncomfortable walking into Norman's office, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was intruding. She had no doubt he wouldn't have wanted her here. She could feel the disapproval emanating from all around the room.

“You might as well get used to it,” she said to the antagonistic space. “I'm going to be here for a long time.”

But was she? She didn't know anything about running a bank, and she had no assurance she would like it or have a talent for it if she did. Right now, she was going through the paces. Once she got over the shock of Norman's death, she could begin to sort out how she truly felt about things.

She tried five keys before she found the one that unlocked his desk. Norman had one of those handcrafted desks where one lock secured all the drawers. She found nothing of interest until she opened a deep drawer that contained several large volumes. She took out the one on top and opened it. A brief scanning of the pages proved it to be a meticulous record of the loans Norman had made, the amount of the repayments, and the dates on which they were made. The only thing remarkable about it was that there were so few. Business was worse than Norman had led her to believe. Was the bank making enough money to pay its employees? Was Norman too proud to admit he was losing money?

Other volumes in the drawer did little more than confirm that the new bank had taken away much of Norman's business. If the situation was so bad, was there any point in keeping the bank open? She'd always assumed Norman was rich, but was he? She went through all the volumes in the desk without finding an answer. Maybe there was something in the safe. She had to work the combination three times before she could get the heavy door open. When she did, she couldn't believe what she saw.

Sibyl had rarely handled money. All her life, she'd gotten what she needed from one store or another, and her father or Norman had settled the bills. She had handled a few gold and silver coins, but she'd seen paper money so rarely it seemed like something children would play with. There were stacks of it in the safe, many with very large numbers written on them. Sacks covering the bottom of the safe contained more gold coins than she'd thought existed in the whole town.

There was no way this could be right. Unless…

She stared at the contents in horror. She knew where Norman had gotten that money, and the knowledge made her blood run cold. Instinctively, she backed away. What could she do? She didn't want to keep it, but it would be impossible to give it away. She was so distracted she almost didn't hear the knock on the door. Without a second's hesitation, she slammed the safe shut and spun the dial. On shaky legs she managed to get to the chair at the desk and sit down before her legs gave out.

“Come in.” Her words came out in a whisper. She cleared her throat. “Come in.” When Cassie entered the office, a single glance told Sibyl the young woman was dancing with excitement.

“There's a man here to see you.”

“I told you to tell everyone the bank wasn't open today.”

“I did, but he wants to see you anyway.”

“Who is it?”

“The stranger who shot the bandits.”

“What does he want?” Sibyl asked.

“I don't know,” Cassie answered. “He asked to speak to you.”

“Tell him to come in.”

He was probably hoping for a reward. He didn't look prosperous. She had no idea how much to offer him. What did you give a man for saving your life? Money seemed like a poor substitute, but she had plenty of it. If that's what he wanted, it's what he'd get.

When he walked into her office, his appearance shocked her all over again. It wasn't just the swelling that had distorted his features. He had the look of a man who was seriously ill. He looked to be well over six feet tall with the bones of a big man, but his body had wasted away to the point that he looked like a skeleton. His walk was slow and effortful. Only his eyes showed the vigor she guessed must have filled his body in the past. Stepping from behind Norman's huge desk, she moved toward him, her hand extended.

“My name is Sibyl Spencer. Norman Spencer was my husband. I want to thank you for saving my life. Cassie's and Horace's as well. You were extremely brave.”

“I don't want any thanks. It's what any man would have done in my position.”

“Nevertheless, you're the man who did it. You're a hero. Cassie hasn't stopped talking about you, and Horace's wife has added you to her nightly prayers. I give thanks for you at least once every hour.”

The man looked upset, maybe like he was sorry he had come. She thought for a moment he might leave, but he seemed to reach a resolve.

“I'm not a hero, and I don't want anyone to think of me like that. I'm grateful you didn't tell anyone who I was. I don't want attention, I don't want any thanks, and I don't want to intrude on anyone's prayers or thoughts. I would rather leave than have to face that.”

Sibyl found it difficult to understand how anyone could feel that way, but he appeared quite sincere. “I'm sorry, but that's impossible. I'll remember you for as long as I live. Because of you, I'll get to see my daughter grow up.” He looked so frail she was afraid he might collapse. “Won't you have a seat and tell me how I might help you?”

The man hesitated before taking the seat she offered him. Sibyl circled her desk and sat down. “I want to offer you a reward,” she said as soon as she was seated. “I don't know how much is appropriate—”

“I don't want a reward!”

The words came out with such force, Sibyl was shocked into silence.

The man struggled to get himself under control before saying, “I didn't come here for money. I have more than enough for my needs.”

“One can always use some new clothes or a nice meal in a restaurant.” Sibyl was surprised when he glanced down at his clothes then looked up and smiled.

“I dress this way because it's comfortable. Really, I don't want any money. I came here to offer my help.”

He could hardly have said anything that would have surprised Sibyl more. How could this man who looked like a vagabond help her? She struggled to keep her shock from showing in her face. When his smile widened, she knew she had failed.

“Let me introduce myself. My name is Logan Holstock. I've only just arrived in the Arizona Territory. I was coming to the bank to open an account when I surprised the robbers.”

“Why did you choose our bank?”

“It was the first one I saw. The building was so impressive I figured it must be a successful bank.”

Of course it was impressive. Norman wouldn't have had it any other way.

“Is there another bank I should investigate?”

The more Mr. Holstock talked, the more confused she became. He didn't talk like a vagrant, and he didn't act like one. He intended to open an account, but he looked like he'd spent his last dollar weeks ago. He was clearly very ill, but he appeared to be ignoring it. “There is another bank,” Sibyl said, “but I hope you will choose ours.” She couldn't say
mine
. It didn't seem right. “Servicing your account will give me a chance to thank you for keeping us from being robbed.”

“I wish you wouldn't mention thanking me again.” He reached into the pocket of his thin jacket and pulled out a wallet. She knew very little about men's wallets, but she could tell expensive leather when she saw it. How would such a man have such a wallet? Her surprise was even greater when he withdrew a handful of bills and handed them to her. A quick count added up to over five hundred dollars.

“I hope this will cover my needs for the next two months or so.”

She had trouble finding her voice. “It would be more than adequate for all but the most extravagant spender.”

“I'm not a spendthrift. Now to the other reason I'm here.” He paused as though looking for the right words. “I've been told your husband kept you ignorant of the workings of the bank. I can only imagine how daunting taking over his position must be, so I want to help any way I can. I haven't always been as you see me now. I was in commerce for a long time. I know how to handle difficult customers and build a business. I know how to read a ledger and balance books. I understand income versus expenses.”

Sibyl didn't know what to say. She was irritated that anyone in town had thought it was acceptable to talk about her to a stranger. Cactus Corner was growing rapidly, but it was still a small town. People stuck together, especially those who were related. They didn't give out that kind of information to just anybody.

But someone had. It would be foolish to ignore an offer of help just because she was irritated. Yet it seemed impossible that he could do all he said. Where would he have learned it? If he knew so much, how could he have ended up as he was now? She knew nothing about him. Could she trust him? There was no one to vouch for him. She didn't even know enough to be able to tell if he was doing the work correctly. Apparently, he guessed what was going through her mind.

“I know I'm coming to you without references. You don't know if you can trust me or whether I can do what I say. But unless I'm mistaken, you don't have the experience to know what work needs to be done or how to do it.”

He was a stranger, an unknown entity, and a man whose appearance was against him. So why did she feel she could trust him? “You have gauged my situation exactly,” she told him, “so you can understand why I'm reluctant to accept your offer.”

“What have you got to lose? If you can't learn how to manage this bank, you'll go broke. If that's the case, I can't see anyone wanting to buy it. Your only alternatives are to sell it immediately if you can find a buyer, or settle in and learn how to run it.”

Sibyl thought of the money sitting in the safe. Was it enough to last for the rest of her life? She had no idea. Even if it was enough for her, what about Kitty's education? Boarding school would be expensive. Was it possible to find a buyer quickly? Even so, her customers would need access to their accounts. She couldn't just close up and wait for a buyer to show up.

“Are you on good terms with the owners of the other bank?” Mr. Holstock asked.

“Yes. The biggest investors are my cousins and their husbands.”

“Do you feel you could ask any one of them to take the time to teach you?”

She'd already thought of that. The only person deeply involved in the management of the bank was her cousin Ethan, and he didn't have the spare time to teach her how to be his competition. Nor did she feel it was fair to ask him now that she'd had time to consider the matter in more detail. “No, I don't. We're a close family, but we're all responsible for ourselves.”

“Do you think he could spare the time to look at my work and tell you if I'm honest and capable?”

Ethan was very busy, but maybe Colby or Jared could help in a pinch. They had their own businesses, but they would be sure to know if Mr. Holstock was cheating her. “You say your name is Holstock. One of my cousins is married to a Jared Smith, but he was born a Holstock. He came from Texas.”

“I'm from Chicago, so I'm sure there's no connection.”

She hadn't thought so, but Holstock was an unusual name, and Jared and Colby had a missing brother somewhere. But beyond having a big-framed body, Logan Holstock didn't bear the slightest resemblance to them. “Sorry. I seem to have wandered from the problem at hand.” She took a deep breath and made her decision. It didn't make sense, but she felt drawn to this man. Maybe it was just that he'd saved her life, but she was curious to know more about him. “I have no way of knowing if you're honest, if you can balance a ledger, or even if you can read. I wouldn't know anything about you except that you're very brave and an excellent shot. But you could very easily have backed out of the bank and left us to our fate. Because you didn't, I'm going to take a chance that you can help me. I have to be honest and say I would never have considered this for one minute if I weren't desperate.”

She did need someone to explain the mysteries of all those figures that filled so many books, but maybe “desperate” wasn't the right word. Maybe she was fearful she would fail on her own. Maybe she just needed to feel that she wasn't facing this battle alone. Maybe it was the feeling there was more to this man than met the eye, and she was curious to find out what it might be.

“I understand,” Logan said. “If I do anything to upset you or cause you to question my honesty or my work, just tell me, and I'll leave.”

“That goes without saying. Now about your wages.”

“I don't want to be paid.”

That was completely unexpected. “Why not?”

“I have enough money for the time I'm going to be here.”

“You're already planning to leave?”

He took a moment to answer. “Let's say I'm not
planning
to leave but
expecting
it.”

“I would feel better paying you.”

“Why don't we wait to see if I'm worth being paid?”

That seemed a reasonable, if unexpected, request. “I have to tell you the bank isn't doing a lot of business. My husband was a very arrogant man. He offended so many people they opened a new bank so people wouldn't have to endure his rudeness any longer.”

“I'm sure things will change now that you're in charge. I need to ask one favor. Don't tell anyone I'm the one who shot the robbers.”

“Why?”

“I don't want people staring at me. I—” An abrupt change came over him. He looked uncomfortable, maybe even unwell. He got to his feet. “I need to be going, but I'll be here first thing in the morning. I know accepting the help of a stranger is a big gamble for you. I promise you will not regret it.”

With that, he turned and left her office with quicker steps than he had entered it. He could have hardly gone through the front door when Cassie knocked and entered without waiting to be invited.

“What did he want? Did he ask for a reward? How much did you promise to give him?”

“He didn't ask for a reward, and he refused one when I offered.”

“Why? He looks sick, not crazy.”

“He says he has experience in business. He has offered to help me learn how to manage the bank.”

“You didn't believe him, did you? I bet the closest he's been to any business is begging for handouts.”

Sibyl picked up the money Holstock had given her and handed it to Cassie. “He was coming to the bank to open an account the other morning. Here's the money he wants to deposit.”

Cassie counted the money in half the time it had taken Sibyl. The total caused her eyes to grow wide. “What'd he do? Rob a bank?”

“I doubt he would foil a robbery if he were a thief himself. I don't know how he came by the money, but there's more to that man than meets the eye. You only have to talk with him a few minutes to realize he hasn't always looked like he's living hand-to-mouth.”

Cassie was more blunt. “He looks like a bum.”

“Bum or not, he'll be starting work here tomorrow morning.”

“You can't do that. He'll scare away the customers.”

“He'll be working in the office with me.”

“Does Naomi know about this?”

Even Cassie didn't believe she knew enough to make decisions for herself. “I have great respect for my cousin's intelligence and ability to judge people, but if I'm going to learn to run this bank, I have to start making decisions on my own.”

“I can help. I've been here five years.”

“Norman didn't tell you any more than he told me. There's more here than either of us knows. If Mr. Holstock can't help me, I may have to sell the bank.”

“You can't do that. You'll never get a decent price when the other bank has taken so many customers. I can't smile brightly enough to bring them back.”

“I know. But even if I could get a decent price, I wouldn't want to sell. I want to prove I can run this bank just as well as Norman did.”

* * *

Keeping his eyes closed, Logan leaned against the tree until he felt his strength begin to return. He didn't care that he'd lost the little breakfast he had been able to eat. He was just thankful he hadn't been sick in Sibyl Spencer's office. He was aware of a growing attraction to this woman. It wasn't just appreciation of her beauty or empathy over the loss of her husband. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something more that seemed to reach out to him, something that compelled him to think of her almost constantly, to compare her to every woman he'd ever known. It mortified him for anyone to see his weakness, especially Sibyl. It was useless vanity, but he'd always been in perfect health, immune to the ailments that plagued other people, and practically tireless. He supposed he'd taken pride in his good health, but mostly, he'd take it for granted. When you've always had something, it didn't seem special. Losing it had shown him how badly mistaken he was.