by Jenna Brandt
Willa sucked in a deep breath, let it go, and said, “I’ll need you to marry me.”
“What?” Harrison Holt shouted, much louder than either of them expected. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face her. “What did you just say?”
“I think you heard me. I’m keenly aware that land near the rail line is worth more for accessibility reasons. If I will sell that land to you, I need a premium price for it.”
“I’m not sure how marrying you qualifies as a price,” Harrison contested.
Placing her hand on her hips, she said firmly, “Come now, Mr. Holt. We’re both reasonable adults. For centuries, marriages have been beneficial contracts between two parties. As long as both parties are getting something from the arrangement, it can work.”
“And what exactly would you be getting from it?” Harrison inquired.
“I would require as my bridal gift for you to settle the bank account for my family’s farm.”
“And me?” he probed further. “How would any of this benefit me?”
“I would give you the land you want. You could keep your money and invest it towards your brickyard.”
“That sounds like I’m paying a lot more money with far less of a return.”
“You would also gain a wife which means I would do all the duties of one, including producing you an heir. After all, what’s the point of building up all you have if you have no one to leave it to?”
Harrison pondered the offer for several seconds before he said, “I am of the age to marry. Before my parents passed away, they often talked of the importance of leaving a legacy through your children.”
“Beyond a child, I could prove valuable to you. I know the area and people here. I’m pleasant in social settings, current on fashions, and can hold my own in a conversation.”
“I doubt none of that,” Harrison acknowledged. “I should warn you, though, I’m not planning to stay in Silverpines after the yard is done. As my wife, you’d have to be willing to go wherever my next business venture took me,” he pointed out.
“I’m willing to make that sacrifice if it means my family is taken care of.”
“I have to admit, I’m completely stunned by your proposal. Intrigued, but shocked. If I was to agree to it, I would need a time for us to get to know each other.”
Willa considered his suggestion. She agreed that though she could tell they were both attracted to each other, that wasn’t enough to make a marriage last. It mattered whether they were compatible. Unfortunately, she could end up in the same place but with less time to save her family’s farm.
“I agree. We should get to know each other, but time is of the essence with the farm’s precarious situation. I propose we spend the next month getting to know each other, keeping our engagement a secret. At which time, if we are compatible, we move forward with marriage, that way the account can be paid off by the time it’s due. If for some reason, one of us does not wish to move forward, then we end the engagement. We both need certain results from this; however, if we end the arrangement, I’ll still sell you the land at the price you asked. You in turn, will loan me the money to cover the debts and give me a reasonable time to pay it back.”
Harrison tilted his head to the side, pausing for a moment before saying, “I accept your terms.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You’re an answer to my prayers, Mr. Holt. Maybe not the answer I was expecting, but an answer none-the-less,” Willa said with frankness.
“I think considering what we just agreed to, you should call me Harrison.”
“You’re probably right, which means you should call me Willa.”
“It’s been nice doing business with you, Willa. I’m looking forward to moving on to the next step in whatever,” he gestured between them, “this is.”
“Oh, don’t be mistaken, Harrison. This is still business. If I know anything about life, marriage is as much a business as anything else.” Even as she said the words, she knew she was saying them to keep a distance between them. If this didn’t work, she didn’t want to get hurt. She needed to firmly leave the daydreamer part of herself behind and embrace the fact she was marrying for convenience rather than love.
Harrison was still going over in his head how shrewdly Willa Brown negotiated him into a marriage agreement. It was the last thing he thought would happen when he came to Silverpines. He had no plans to leave the town with a wife, but it might very well end up being the case.
Though part of him wanted to pretend it was beyond his control or simply business, the truth was that he genuinely was attracted to Willa. She was classically pretty with her fair skin, high cheekbones, and full lips. Combined with her dark hair and matching eyes, she was a fetching woman who any man would be happy to take as a wife; however, he was beginning to see it went beyond just initial attraction. She was smart too. The way she presented her counter offer and argued her points, she could hold her own with any man in a business meeting. Plus, there was the loyalty she showed to her family; risking a rejection at worst and a marriage to a stranger at best just to save them from losing everything. He would value that type of loyalty in a wife if they should end up saying vows at the end of all this. He wondered, could this be the beginning of something more than just business?
“Good morning, Mr. Holt,” said Mallet Thorne, the town’s stonemason, holding his hand out to Harrison. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“I had a last-minute business meeting this morning. I’m sorry I’m late,” Harrison explained.
“I’m surprised you’ve been in town long enough to make a contact to do business with,” Braylon observed, coming up and patting his friend on the back. “Of course, you’ve always been the consummate businessman.”
Harrison shrugged, choosing to avoid discussing who he met with or that it was more personal than business when it came to Willa Brown.
“Have I missed anything,” he inquired, moving through the front of the lawyer’s office—one of the few buildings untouched by the fire—and settling in front of the large draft table with a map of the city on it.
“We’re just getting started,” Denver Hughes, the city developer responsible for the planning of multiple metropolises across the United States, informed Harrison. “We’re discussing where we must start first with reconstruction.”
Harrison looked at the map and noticed the telephone/telegraph office along with the police and fire stations were circled. “I can see you decided the first section of buildings to start with,” Harrison observed. “When do you plan to start them?”
“As soon as possible,” Mayor Luther Garrison stated, placing his hand on the side of the table. “Once these key structures are up, we will move towards the supporting buildings.”
“I have the size and dimensions of these initial buildings for you,” Denver stated, handing a piece of paper to Harrison.
“Good, that’s exactly what I need,” Harrison said with approval. “I will coordinate with my foreman in Idaho Falls to have the first shipment of bricks to be delivered by the end of the week.”
“How is your brickyard venture going here in Silverpines?” Denver inquired. “It sure would be helpful if you had a yard here to help with the supply.”
“I’m working on that, but I may not have access to the land until a month’s time,” then second-guessing how it was all going to turn out, Harrison added, “If I even end up with the land at all.”
“I’m betting Miss Willa’s giving you a hard time,” Braylon said, letting out a laugh. “My wife wondered if you’d have a difficult time getting her to sell it to you.”
“I’m seeing that,” Harrison admitted.
“If you want, I can speak with her,” the mayor offered. “She might be more willing if she knew it would benefit the town.”
Wanting as little involvement from others as possible, Harrison shook his head adamantly. “Trust me, that won’t be necessary. We’re in negotiations, and one way or the other, I’ll get the land I need
by the end of the month.”
“You sound mighty sure of yourself, Mr. Holt. I wouldn’t underestimate Willa Brown,” Mallet Thorne said with a chuckle. “She’s a pistol, that one.”
“You have no idea,” Harrison said with a sigh. “I can see I’m going to have my hands full dealing with her.”
Chapter Six
Sweat trickled down Willa’s forehead, then along the edge of her cheek. It was only spring, but the sun was still strong in the Oregon sky, causing Willa and Arthur to both be exhausted with only a half-day of work in the fields under their belt.
Worse than the sun, was the lack of knowledge. Willa wasn’t even sure if they were taking care of the plants properly. They were working off of Arthur’s memory, and even though her brother had spent many hours helping their papa with the farm, he was still just a child. It was impossible for him to recall all the details that only a seasoned farmer would know.
“Willa, do you think we’re over watering the sprouts?” Arthur asked with concern. “I can’t remember how much water Papa used.”
Willa scrunched her face as she debated. She wasn’t sure either. She bent down and placed her fingers in the soil all around her. It was moist to the touch, but did it go deep enough to penetrate the roots? One thing she knew was that over watering and under watering could each damage the plants.
She let out a heavy sigh, then gestured for Arthur to join her as she said, “Let’s go inside for lunch. I think they will be all right for today. I’ll see if Papa is up to answering a few questions later this evening.”
Even as she said the words, Willa knew asking their papa was a lost cause. She didn’t want to admit that to Arthur though. She wanted to give him hope as long as possible that there was a chance their papa would pull out of his melancholia. The longer it went on, however, the more she wondered if he would only deteriorate until he joined their mama in the ground.
“If you think that’s best, Willa,” Arthur said, coming up beside his sister. “I just want to make Papa proud. Maybe if he sees what a good job we’re doing, he’ll feel better.”
“That’s a wonderful thought, Arthur. I hope you’re right,” she agreed, wrapping her arm around her brother’s shoulders. Even though Arthur was younger than her, he was almost as tall and still growing. It was odd to have him nearing a point where he would soon tower over her in size, but she supposed that was how it was with boys. “I’ve noticed you were rather quiet all day, Arthur. Is something bothering you?”
Her brother stiffened under the question, making Willa realize her observation was valid. A few seconds passed before he said, “This is the first year we’ve planted in this area. It’s where the earthquake hit,” Arthur pointed out with a frown. “It seems wrong doing it.”
A deep sadness surfaced in Willa’s heart, one she tried to avoid feeling as much as possible. Jacob’s death had destroyed their happy life. Though at times, it was less than perfect, with crops failing, prices for their harvest being lower than expected, and the cost of doing business constantly rising, they always came together as a family and pushed through… until the earthquake. It had devastated the town and the Browns as well. In a blink of an eye, the heir apparent, the son Papa had taught everything to, was gone, leaving a giant hole that nothing could fill. Mama and Papa tried to fill it with another baby, Arthur tried by being the perfect son, and Willa by taking care of the family. None of it worked, and then it only got worse when Mama and the baby passed away six months later. The compounded losses were so difficult; it was surprising they didn’t all end up never getting out of bed again like their papa.
“I think Jacob would want us to plant the crops here. He loved the farm more than any of us,” Willa stated with certainty. “He wouldn’t want it to suffer because of what happened to him.”
“If Jacob were here, he would know exactly what to do. The longer he is gone, the more I realize I’ll never measure up.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t try to. You’re right; you‘ll never be Jacob, but you were never meant to be him. You’re meant to be Arthur, and you’ll find your own way to do all of this,” Willa said, gesturing out towards the fields.
“It’s not just about the farm, Willa. I miss him, too. He was my best friend,” Arthur whispered. “I feel so lonely without him.”
“You’re not alone, Arthur. I know I can’t replace him, but I’m always here for you.”
Willa wondered what she could do to help her brother feel better. An idea popped into her head, and she offered, “Why don’t we go to the cemetery after lunch? We can visit Jacob’s grave along with Mama’s and the baby’s.”
“I’d like that. I haven’t had anyone to take me out there in a while,” Arthur confessed.
“We’re lucky the part of the cemetery where they’re located wasn’t affected by the fire,” Willa pointed out.
An hour later, the siblings arrived at the Silverpines cemetery. They made their way to the far south side where the family plots were located under a giant pine tree.
Willa laid out a blanket before they both sat down.
She quietly read her brother’s epitaph:
Jacob Cyrus Brown
November 20th, 1883—April 16th, 1899
Beloved son, brother, and grandson
Forever in our hearts
Next to his was her mama’s and the baby’s epitaphs on the same headstone:
Cora Elizabeth Brown
September 7th, 1863—October 28th, 1899
Beloved wife and mother
Baby Brown
October 28th, 1899
You were together on earth
and now together in eternity.
“I can’t believe how much has changed in a year,” Willa stated with a sad smile. “I never would have thought half our family would end up here.”
“I know what you mean. It doesn’t seem real sometimes, and other times, it seems too real,” Arthur stated with disbelief. “I miss them both so much.”
“And we never even got to meet the baby. I wonder what the baby would have been like,” Willa pondered. “Like Papa or Mama?”
“Or me,” Arthur chimed in with a big grin. “The baby could have been just like me.”
“So you mean always stealing my journal, poking fun at me, and eating all the food in the house?” Willa teased.
He shrugged. “What can I say, it’s the job of a little brother to bother his sister.”
“Well then, you should be proud. You’re quite good at it.” With a laugh, she added, “But I love you, anyway.”
They spent another half hour on the grass talking about the farm, church, and Arthur’s time at school.
“Before we head back to the town, is there anything else you want to do?” Willa offered, though she knew there wasn’t much they could do with how tight money was.
“Well, Timmy said the vaudeville performers have a makeshift stage across the street from the inn. He told me they perform there every afternoon. You think we could go watch them for a while?” Arthur asked with excitement in his eyes.
“I think that could be fun,” Willa said. “Let’s go.”
They stood up and shook the blanket out before Willa folded it up and placed it in a tapestry bag she brought with her. They walked the short distance between the cemetery and the inn, both avoiding talking about the burnt-out buildings that littered a huge section of town. Both of them were in a good mood and didn’t want to ruin it by discussing it.
Just as they were passing the inn, Willa glanced through the window and saw Harrison Holt inside talking to Michael Karson at the front desk. She stopped moving and wondered if she should invite him to come along. If they were going to work at getting to know each other quickly, a casual outing such as watching the vaudeville performers might be the most obvious way to start. She wasn’t sure, however, if she wanted to be the one to initiate socializing. Would it make her appear desperate? Of course, she was desperate, but she didn’t want to appear that way.
“What are you looking at?” Arthur asked, moving in front of her and staring through the window. He must have recognized Harrison because he quickly asked, “Isn’t that the man who came out to the house yesterday?”
Willa nodded. “Yes, it is.”
“Why do you have that odd look on your face? Did he do something to you? If he did, I can go in there and beat him up for you, Willa. No one messes with my sister.” Arthur took off towards the door before Willa knew what was happening. Before she could grab him by the arm and stop him, he was pulling the door open.
To her utter embarrassment, she heard her brother shouting through the door, “Listen here, mister, I don’t know what you did to my sister, but I have a good mind to—”
Willa finally caught up to Arthur and quickly placed her hand over his mouth.
Harrison was facing them, a shocked look on his face. “What’s all this about?”
“Nothing. My brother recognized you from the house, but I didn’t get a chance to explain your reason for being there. He got the wrong idea about what happened while you were there.”
“I’m sorry, young man, but I only have good intentions when it comes to your family. I was at your farm on business,” Harrison stated.
Willa was grateful Harrison didn’t mention their arrangement. If it didn’t work out, she could handle the humiliation much easier without anyone else knowing.
“What are you doing in town?” Harrison asked. His eyes meeting hers. “Were you looking for me?”
“No, we were visiting the cemetery,” Willa said with a shake of her head.
“And now we’re going to go see the vaudeville performers,” Arthur piped in.
Sucking in a deep breath, Willa decided she might as well go with her gut and invite him. “Would you like to join us?”
“As a matter of fact, I think that would be amusing. I’ll gladly accept your invitation.”
Harrison nodded his head towards Michael and said, “Thank you for adding the items I need in my room.”