by Regina Scott
Funny. He’d said the same to Cora. Now the sentiment rang hollow, wrong.
Cowardly.
“You go ahead,” Nathan told them. “I’d like to say good night to Miss Baxter and her family. And thank you, for everything.”
Amelia gave him an encouraging smile before she and Eugene went to bid their hostess farewell.
Cora met him partway around the room. “This is far more tedious than I remembered. Are you ready to flee?”
“I’ve been ready for hours,” he said. “But you haven’t sat out a dance.”
“And my feet are letting me know it.”
He raised a brow. “You climbed a mountain in shoes that weren’t designed for your feet. I won’t believe dancing tires you.”
“The mountain doesn’t tread on your toes,” she informed him. “And you haven’t. Another dance?”
“Asking for trouble,” he told her. “Your mother is headed this way as it is, with Kincaid beside her.”
She slumped. “Will it never end?”
“I could probably cause a diversion,” Nathan offered. “I could ask your mother to dance.”
She shuddered as if imagining it. “No. I know my duty.” As he watched, her body straightened, grew more poised. The smile on her face was polite and polished. By the time her mother and Kincaid reached her and Nathan, she was another person entirely.
“Mr. Kincaid feels it is time to leave, Coraline,” her mother said. “He has requested that his carriage be brought around. Mr. Hardee.”
“Ma’am,” Nathan acknowledged with a nod.
Kincaid’s look was cool. He knew he had the upper hand.
Cora obviously wasn’t ready to concede. “Very well, Mother,” she said. “Nathan, I do hope you’ll call tomorrow.”
“I’d be delighted, Cora,” he said, trying not to spoil her performance with a grin.
He had seen planed cedar less stiff than Mrs. Winston, basalt softer than the glint in Kincaid’s eyes. Cora’s mother didn’t so much as glance his way as she turned and allowed Kincaid to walk her and Cora to bid their hostess good night.
Shem’s Dockside Saloon was more crowded than Nathan had expected when he returned from the ball. Laughter echoed out onto the wharves. Smoke clogged the air, looking like a fog had descended from the mountain. By the time he crossed the room to Waldo’s side, he became aware of something heavier.
The looks stabbing in his direction.
“Did she like it?” Waldo demanded as he sat at the table across from his partner. “The hair, the fancy coat?”
The kiss?
Nathan leaned back in the chair. “She was willing to associate with me.”
“And dance? Oh, I bet she makes a fine partner.”
“She was as light as the first snowflake,” Nathan assured him. The memory of her in his arms made anything less than a smile impossible.
Waldo slapped the table and set the tin cup there to rattling against the wood. “You see! You don’t have to take that job at the bank. She likes you.”
“A bank, is it now?” Another man brushed up to their table, two more at his back. His red hair was a flame in the smoky saloon. “And why would a fine banker need to come drink with the likes of us?”
“Banker!” Waldo sputtered. “Don’t you know who this is?”
Nathan held up a hand. “It’s all right, Waldo. Plenty of reasons not to trust banks and bankers these days. Why don’t you gentlemen go back to your table?”
“Why don’t you take your fancy clothes right out the door?” the ringleader demanded. “You have some gall coming here, flaunting your money, when my daughters are going without dinner.”
Nathan pushed back the chair and stood. Waldo’s face lit with glee, but the redhead in front of him looked up into his eyes and narrowed his own.
“If your daughters are hungry,” Nathan said, “why are you here drinking?”
The man took a step back and raised both fists. His friends gave him room, but one was rolling up his sleeves, and the other peeled off his coat. Waldo rose as well. A dozen more climbed to their feet. Chairs fell with a crash that echoed in the sudden silence.
The leader spit on the floor in front of Nathan’s feet. “You’re no better than any of them in their fancy houses along the cliff. The railroad, Kincaid Industries—none of you knows how to pay a man what he’s worth.”
Yells of agreement erupted like gunshots around them.
“If you have a grievance with your employer,” Nathan said, “take it to the law.”
“The law won’t listen to the likes of us,” someone complained.
“Men like that, they make the law,” another put in.
Agreement rumbled through the building. Shem dove behind his bar, likely going for the shotgun he kept for times like this. Best to stop things now, before someone got hurt.
Nathan glanced around at the reddened faces, the clenched fists. Were these the sort of men Cora’s stepfather had hoped to help? It sounded as if they needed jobs.
“You want fair pay for fair work?” Nathan asked. “Come to the Puget Sound Bank of Commerce tomorrow afternoon, and we will help you find a position.”
Arms fell, mouths gaped. Waldo grinned.
“Who are you, then?” Redhead demanded.
“This here is Nathan Hardee,” Waldo declared, pushing in front of him. “He knows Mr. Winston, the bank director. We all just climbed Rainier together.”
The ringleader squinted up at Nathan. “That so?”
“It is,” Nathan said. “Stephen Winston is a good man. We’ll do all we can to help you.”
With grumbles, they began to shuffle back to their seats. Redhead went last, with one more defiant look to Nathan. Shem poked his head over the scarred wood of the bar and gave Nathan a thumbs-up as he laid the shotgun aside.
“You really think Winston can help them?” Waldo asked, watching them.
“He told me he wanted to,” Nathan said. “I guess it’s time to find out whether he meant it.”
28
Kincaid escorted Cora and her family to the door.
“I wonder,” he said to her mother. “I know the hour is late, but might I have a word with your lovely daughter?”
What now? Cora searched his face but saw nothing to indicate his purpose.
Her mother must have thought she knew, for she smiled. “Of course, Mr. Kincaid. Mr. Winston and I will wait in the family parlor for the good news.”
Her father’s brow puckered, but he nodded permission as well.
Cora followed Kincaid to the formal parlor instead, turning on the lamp as she did so.
“You needn’t waste your time,” she told him. “I won’t change my mind about crying off.”
He shook his head as he sat on the sofa. “Coraline, how did we end up at such cross purposes? You admired me once.”
“That was before I knew you well,” Cora replied.
“But I fear you don’t know me at all.” He sighed. “Please, sit down. I’ll only take a few minutes. I promise.”
She was tempted to refuse and make for her room, but her mother would never let her hear the end of it. She went to sit as far away from him as the room would allow.
“Thank you,” he said. “It has become clear to me that you hold Nathan Hardee in the highest esteem. Perfectly natural, given that he led you up the mountain. And then there is his rise out of adversity. I wanted you to know he isn’t the only man to conquer an unpleasant past.”
Cora frowned. “So, you have forsaken society to make your own way?”
“No. I learned to master it.” He braced his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “Some here look down on me for my humble beginnings—the middle son in a large Irish family. Make no mistake—I have worked for every penny I now possess. I believe you value hard work.”
Cora nodded. “I do. But it is one thing to better yourself, and another to better yourself by destroying others. The first is commendable. The last is despicable.”
> “I will admit I have not always considered the consequences to others in my business decisions. I can do better. Just as you needed Hardee’s help to climb the mountain, so I need a guide to reach my business goals.”
Cora cocked her head. “Are you offering me a position, Mr. Kincaid?”
He straightened. “More. I want you at my side, Coraline. With you as my wife, no door would be closed to us. We could attract additional capital, use it to improve working conditions, expand operations, and hire men who so desperately need work. With my money and influence in the business community, think how we could advocate for suffrage.”
She felt not the least temptation. “You put a great deal of faith in my association.”
“And you put too little. I see the respect to which you are held, to which your entire family is held. I want that for me and the family I intend to build.”
“If it is respect you crave,” Cora said, “then appoint a board of directors, men and women admired in the area. Surely that would be just as effective as marrying me.”
His eyes glittered in the lamplight. “Ah, but I want to marry you. When I struck out on my own, I promised myself I would never settle for second best again. You, Coraline, are the best.”
She tired of the game. She rose, and he stood.
“Thank you for the informative discussion, Mr. Kincaid. I’ll be sure to let you know when I’ve sent the retraction to the paper.”
He inclined his head. “Until then, I hope you’ll consider my proposal. I’ll bid your mother and Winston good night.”
Cora watched him out the door, then hurried to her room before her mother could take her to task.
That didn’t stop her mother from following.
“I understand you and Mr. Kincaid have yet to settle your differences,” she said when she cornered Cora while Lily was assisting her in undressing for bed. “I will allow there must be a certain amount of reticence on the lady’s part. We cannot let them think we are easily won.”
“I’m not posturing, Mother,” Cora said as she tugged down on the soft folds of the nightgown Lily had draped about her. “I don’t want to marry Mr. Kincaid.”
“Lily,” her mother said, “I’ll finish here. Go see to my night things.”
Very likely Lily had set them out hours ago, but the maid bobbed a curtsy, threw Cora a pitying look, and scampered from the room.
Her mother went to sit on the turned-back covers on the bed and patted the space beside her. Cora joined her. The bed was high enough her bare feet swung off the floor. That only made her feel more like a child.
“You do not want to marry Mr. Kincaid,” her mother repeated. “Or any other gentleman I have brought to your attention. Am I right in supposing you would entertain a proposal from Mr. Hardee?”
Why bother denying what appeared to be obvious even to her mother? “Yes,” Cora admitted. “I would.”
Her mother’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, my dear. That isn’t wise.”
“Why?” Cora asked. “He’s a fine man, Mother. I don’t understand why you can’t see that.”
Her mother’s mouth took on that pinched look that usually preceded a scold. “I can see the attraction, Coraline. But I want to know you are somewhere safe, provided for.”
Cora waved a hand. “Is anywhere truly safe in this Panic?”
Her mother’s look was prim. “Here, we have friends and resources. I saw no banks on the road to the mountain. Here, the marshal will come when called. Can you say the same for Mr. Hardee’s cabin? What if the men at that lumber camp revolted? What if there was a forest fire? Who would protect you then?”
“Is it inconceivable that I might protect myself?” Cora challenged. “That Nathan and I might protect each other? That the two of us together might be stronger than we are apart?”
Her mother rose. “If that is the case, you have found something rare indeed. Just be very, very sure before you throw away everything I labored to provide for you.”
Nathan called at the Winston house the next morning at an hour Mrs. Winston would likely find improper. He was just glad she wasn’t up yet when the maid led him to the breakfast room at the back of the house. It was possible he might have passed muster in the other coat the tailor had found for him and tan trousers. He wasn’t sure about the derby, which sat oddly on his newly cut hair, but he had to remove it inside anyway.
“Good morning, Nathan,” Winston greeted him, plaid coat dapper. “I see even in town you’re an early riser. Our Coraline rises with the sun these days too.” He aimed a fond smile at her.
Cora lifted her teacup in salute, green taffeta sleeve rustling. “And finds remarkably little to do.” She turned to Nathan. “Good morning. What are your plans for the day?”
“I thought I’d see how a bank is run,” Nathan said, taking the chair beside her.
“Excellent,” she said, eyes sparkling. “I’d be happy to show you around.”
“And I need to confirm that I can honor a promise I made last night.” He went on to explain the confrontation in the tavern. Cora’s frown grew, until he told them about his offer to the men.
“There must be some way we can help,” she said. “What do you suggest, Father?”
The banker beamed at her, and Nathan realized it was the first time he’d heard her call him by that title. Then Winston gave his white mustache a tug. “Many of my depositors and those to whom we have extended loans need a worker here or there, even in these difficult times. I’m sure introductions can be made. The gentlemen will still need to prove their merit, but those with good character should go far.”
Nathan’s shoulders relaxed for the first time since he’d made the promise. “Good. Just tell me how I can assist.”
“I will, my boy.” Winston rubbed his hands together. “This will be a fine day. I’m certain of it.”
And it was. Nathan wasn’t sure why that surprised him so much. He’d visited banks before with his father, though the Puget Sound Bank of Commerce seemed brighter than he remembered. Perhaps it was the brass decorating so many surfaces, from the front door to the gilding on the cashier’s cages. But he thought it had more to do with Cora’s presence.
“We have the usual stands for making deposits and withdrawals,” she explained as she led him about the carpeted space. “The doors there on the right accommodate offices for the directors and accountants. And, of course, we have a vault in the back to store the deposits. It is the finest German steel, and only Winston and the associate directors have the combination.”
So, he’d have the combination to the vault if he accepted the offer of employment. Winston was offering trust indeed.
“How many associate directors are there?” he asked as she led him toward one of the offices.
“We have two at present. If you accept my father’s offer, you will be the third.” She cast him a quick glance before focusing on opening the door.
Inside was a neat, wood-paneled office with desk, filing cabinet, chair, and green-shaded lamp. Papers sat in piles, as if awaiting marching orders, and all guarded by an ornate brass clock that ticked off the minutes.
“This is my office,” she said, taking a seat behind the desk. She glanced at the papers on the blotter in front of her. “I see a few proposals came in while I was gone. I’ll review them, determine the risk to the bank, the potential credit or loss, and the length of time the money would be tied up. Then I’ll make a recommendation to Winston and the associate directors as to whether we should accept the proposal as it was written, suggest changes, or refuse.”
Nathan sat in the chair across from her. It was a little hard and a little tight, but perhaps that was the intention. Those who came begging would be reminded not to overstay their welcome. “How many do you recommend for funding?”
“It depends. I don’t have a quota I must meet. It’s all about the risk and the reward.”
“So, you’ll take a larger risk for the potential of a larger reward,” he said.
“Of course. That’s how businesses grow.”
“Lives too,” he said.
Her cheeks pinked. “I suppose that’s true.” She glanced out the door, and her brows went up. “Are these your gentlemen?”
Nathan turned. A group of men had entered the bank, and he recognized the redheaded leader as well as at least one other from the crowd last night.
“Excuse me,” he said, rising. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Winston had already come out of his office to meet them. “Gentlemen, welcome. I propose we have a discussion, one at a time, and I’ll see where you might best be placed. Will that satisfy?”
Redhead pulled up his trousers and nodded to one of the men, a sandy-haired fellow with a crooked nose. “I suppose that’s all right. You first, Prentice. You have the most to feed.”
The lanky fellow peeled himself away from the group and followed Winston to his office. Nathan stayed in the lobby to keep an eye on the others.
More arrived throughout the afternoon, though fewer than he’d expected. What kept the rest away? Pride? Distrust? Doubt? They had missed an opportunity. Winston met with each that had come, ascertained their skills and interests, then gave them one of his calling cards. Some he directed to another business in town. Others he asked to come back in a week or so to see if additional positions had opened.
“And if you have any difficulty,” he told them, “have the business owner call me or drop in. I’ll be happy to be of assistance.”
“They grow three inches between the time they walk in the door and the time they leave,” Nathan marveled to Cora, watching Winston escort the last man to the door.
“That’s what hope does,” Cora said. “That’s really why most of our clients come to the bank. To deposit money for a hopeful future. To borrow money to give themselves and others hope.”
“Hope,” Nathan echoed, gaze coming back to her. “And what do you hope for, Cora?”
Once more pink rose in her cheeks. “In truth, I’m not sure anymore. I tell myself this is where I belong. This is the goal I set for myself.”