Authors: Dana Black
So this morning was the Graybars’ defeat, and my victory.
What was Mrs. Jennings saying?
'. . . would have been proud to see this day. I never saw a man so riled up about somethin' as your daddy was when he had to give up that mountain! And to Brad Graybar, of all people! Why, your daddy hated that man ever since you were two years old, and that's a mighty long time - too long, I thought myself, but that didn't make a particle of difference to him.'
She was busying herself with the day's baking now, setting out the pans of dough that had risen overnight and dusting her fingers with flour.
'Actually, I thought it went back even further than that,' I mused, recalling what Brad himself had told me.
'Oh, no.' She shook her head firmly, pursing her lips. 'Thev were good friends right up till your second birthday - I baked your cake and put on the candles, so I ought to remember. It wasn't till just after your ma lost her baby that the trouble started.'
'The baby?'
'Yes, ma'am. He would've been a little brother for you, they said, but he came too soon. Your pa took on somethin' fierce after it happened, and your ma nearly died, grievin' the way she did. You wouldn't remember, though. Most of the time 1 kept you with me so you wouldn't hear the fightin'. Lord knows what they were . . . '
'Yes, well, let's think about the future now, Mrs. J, shall we?' I tried to keep my voice steady, but it was difficult all the same. Had the baby been Brad Graybar's? How that question must have eaten into Father's soul over the years! And it must have upset Mother, too, along with the never-ending doubts of what had brought on her labor so early. Had it been her anxieties over her affair, yet unconfessed? And what if the boy had lived?
I brought myself up short. This wasn't the time for the past; I had said that myself. Even though what Mrs. Jennings had inadvertently let slip had awakened a new ache, there was the future to attend to.
I finished my breakfast, determinedly keeping Mrs. Jennings's conversation to the subject of what ought to be served at the wedding. Then, from the carriage house, I led the horse Jared had already saddled for me out on to the driveway and mounted up. I could have taken the carriage, of course, but impulsively I had decided to ride instead. The last time I had come to Legacy had been in a carriage, and that was a day that I was still trying to forget.
The sun was just clearing the top of the mountains to the southeast. Across the river, the trees had begun to turn shades of red and gold among the green, like the sycamores and the elms here on millionaires' row. There was still a light mist from the early morning that caught the early sun and made the rays sparkle. Up ahead I could hear the chimes of Father's steeple clock strike the hour: 6 a.m. I would be in plenty of time to meet Billy Joe Walker down at the bank and then ride up to Legacy by seven with cash for the bidding.
As I rode past the familiar mansions, lawns and hedges now glittering behind the thin grey mist of morning, I couldn't help but think how different my view of these houses was now from what it had been only a few months before. Back then I was noticing the architectural lines, the colors of the garden flowers, and the trim of the shutters. The people inside were only vague presences, friends of Father's whom I might know to say hello to, but nothing more. Now, when I looked at the stately Belmont mansion on the next block from ours, for example, I scarcely looked at the lines of its twin mansard roof towers, which I had previously found dreadfully clumsy. Instead, I thought of the dinner party I was giving for Mr. and Mrs. Belmont a week from today to celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Mr. Belmont owned a sizable block of Pennsylvania Railroad shares, and he was very friendly with Pierpont Morgan, Junius Morgan's son, in New York. The right words from him could reduce our railway shipping costs by nearly fifty per cent within the state and by at least thirty per cent anywhere in the East. Two houses down from the Belmonts' house was the home of the Plaines, newcomers up from Washington. Mr. Plaines was here to supervise the construction of the huge new post office and federal court building, and later he would be in charge of all civil service work in the centre of the state. Justin and I had given them a welcoming party. Justin had insisted on it as soon as he had learned that Mr. Plaines was a close acquaintance of President Grant. A little further on was the Wightman's Italian villa. Mr. Wightman had made a fortune in pharmaceuticals and was now planning to erect an entire city block of offices, stores, and apartments downtown - for which he would naturally need lumber in great quantities. Mrs.Wightman's birthday was in November, and Justin and I had already let it be known that we would arrange a celebration.
As I rode past Steven's - what had once been Steven's house - I felt an impulse to look away. John Eber's family lived there now. John ran a construction firm and had been ready with cash at the time Steven needed to sell. Steven's loss had been his gain. And now Steven would lose again, and I would win - but why, then, didn't I feel as though I were winning?
I told myself that I really had done nothing to harm Steven. The Graybars would have gone under without me, anyway. Brad had lost at least a half million dollars lately in the stock market. He had bought some stocks on account, hoping the profits on their sales would give him money to pay; other stocks he had sold short. But Brad had misjudged the market very badly. Two brokers were going bankrupt along with Brad because they had trusted his predictions about stock prices as well as his credit.
So even if Brad had managed to sell his boom shares - which would be bid on this afternoon by other members of the company - it was doubtful that he would have been able to pay off all his obligations. It was all just as Father had predicted months before, I told myself. I really hadn't changed the outcome that much by letting Justin know of their plans in the Harrisburg legislature. The defeat would have happened without me.
But why did I still feel so responsible?
I forced my thoughts away from such fruitless speculation. The future was falling into place just as I had imagined it. Justin and I were already entertaining occasionally, whenever we could both afford the time. After we were married we could move up to Legacy and begin to create that centre of social life I had envisioned. We could have neighbors on the lots below the mansion that Brad had surveyed off. Though he could not sell the lots, I knew that I could. All I needed to do was extend the gas line, and immediately those lots would become very desirable residential areas.
Of course, the bank knew this, too. That was why Layton Jacobs was waiting for me now, at this hour of the morning, at the Susquehanna Federated Bank downtown. As soon as Billy Joe Walker arrived, Layton was going to get one hundred thousand-dollar bills out of the vault so that I would have cash enough to outbid whoever might appear on Legacy at seven o'clock. And if it appeared that more cash might be needed, Layton stood prepared to ride back down for more.
He was standing inside the door when I dismounted, his grey mutton-chop sideburns framing a deceptively wolfish face. Layton might look fierce and cynical, but I had always found him charming and co-operative.
We chatted amiably while waiting for Billy Joe. The bank was very glad of this opportunity to be of service to me with this loan. They were certain I would be able to sell the lots for more than I would have to pay for the entire property, and they were pleased I had chosen them. They were still willing to accept the title to the lots as full collateral for the loan.
The clock chimed half-past. Billy Joe was nowhere in sight. I had no idea what might be keeping him; it wasn't like Billy Joe to be late for anything.
But I had to be up at Legacy at seven for the start of the bidding.
'Layton, you know how much we agreed on. When Billy Joe comes, can you bring it on up? Be there by seven-fifteen at the latest and I think we'll still be all right.'
'And if he's not here by seven, Miss Rawlings, I'll bring it myself. I'll get one of the sheriffs men to come with me.'
4
I appreciate your help, Layton.' I smiled at him as I went out to the curb and mounted up, before he could offer to help me with that, too. It was money I needed this morning, not patronizing treatment. I took a last look around the square for Billy Joe: nothing. The streets were deserted. Even the farmers would not be in until the growers' market opened at seven-thirty.
Where was Billy Joe? He had done such a good job for me up until now. As I rode up the gradual slope along Market Street, past the last house, past the place where the street became just a carriage-path through a field, then on into the woods at the base of Legacy, the question tugged at my mind. It was not possible that Billy Joe had forgotten. He had been meticulous in every detail since he had begun work as my chief of security. Two men were now in jail as a result of his alertness in checking a warehouse gate one evening in early September, and I was certain that thousands of dollars' worth of our property had been saved because other local ruffians had learned to fear him. Though they might be for hire to sabotage other mills, they would stay clear of Rawlings and Billy Joe.
Well, he would turn up
;
Nothing was going to get in the way of my victory here this morning, I told myself. As I rode along the wooded path and approached the crest and the clearing, I tried to feel at home again, here with the familiar clean forest air and the sunlight dancing through the hemlocks. The maples here and there were touched with red and gold. In low spots along the edges of the trail, the fallen leaves and brown needles were crusted white with last night's frost. My mare seemed to sense the freshness of the morning, for she pranced as though glad for the early exercise, snorting little clouds as we trotted up the mountain.
Yet I still felt a strange anxiety, as though a Christmas morning had come that I did not want to celebrate. Was I feeling sorry for Steven? The thought popped into my mind unbidden and I quickly rejected it. I owed him no apology.
He had taken me for granted. He had tried to force me to marry him. He had allowed his father to insult our family, my father's memory, my mother's reputation, and my own business ability. He had taken advantage of the feelings, the attraction we had for each other ... I forced myself not to think of that. Justin and I would develop that passion one day. I could trust Justin to allow me to be independent, to make my own business decisions. Could I trust Steven to do the same? I doubted it. His pride would impel him to take charge of things. Hadn't he been too proud to even say hello to me this past month? He was determined to exist without me, so I could certainly well afford to spare myself the pains and the emotional storms that he brought into my life.
Besides, Justin was a much better prospect. He was growing more and more popular in town, and his name was beginning to be mentioned for public office. He had his connections in Philadelphia and Harrisburg, and he would soon have allies in Washington. Who knew where the future might take him? And I could be at his side.
I could see Graybar's Castle ahead of me now. It was Brad's pride, but Brad was gone now. What a change from that first Saturday in June when I had ridden up here! Then I had hidden behind the trees so that Brad could not see me, and now I had driven him away. I would buy it this morning, though I had paid for it in many ways months ago. The nightmare at Eagles Mere, the horror of that burning raft - they had brought me here. I had paid for this moment.
But why did I feel apprehension now?
As the mare's hooves clattered on to the gravel path, it came to me that I would very likely have to face Steven this morning. After all, he had been living up here. His pride would not let him accept a defeat gracefully. I was sure of that. He would be here to make a scene of some kind, to show the bidders and those who had come to watch that he was not going to be beaten quietly.
Well, I had been through his temper tantrums before, and a lot worse than that, to get where I was this morning, I told myself. In an hour I would own Legacy. This tightening that I felt in the pit of my stomach was ridiculous. It would all be over and done with in an hour.
But where was Billy Joe? I thought I heard someone behind me and I looked around. Nothing. The path behind me was quiet, the forest motionless. Maybe a squirrel or a raccoon had stirred up some leaves a moment before, but there were no riders. I would feel a lot better when the money was safely up here and ready to be handed over.