A Sensible Arrangement

by Tracie Peterson

  “I could have Cook put together some sandwiches and cookies. Food that would be easy to eat without benefit of table service.”

  “That sounds like a grand idea, Marty. Thank you. Why don’t you send Samson over with it at about six?”

  “That will give us plenty of time to arrange it,” Marty replied, smiling. She was glad to be able to do something to make things easier for him. “Try not to worry,” she added. “These things have a way of working out.”

  “I hope so. God knows this isn’t going to be pleasant for anyone. We may well watch the collapse of our entire country’s financial foundation.”

  The evening passed in relative silence. Alice helped Marty dress for bed early.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to keep you company for a while?” Alice asked.

  Marty shook her head. “No, go enjoy an evening to yourself. You work hard, and I appreciate all that you do. Besides, I’m just going to sit here and read.”

  “I think I’ll do the same,” Alice told her. “It’ll be nice to just have the time to myself.” She picked up the rest of Marty’s clothes and smiled. “I’ll take these to the laundry first. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  The day had been warm, so Marty opened one of her bedroom windows and breathed deeply of the night air. She could smell the scent of flowering trees and marveled at the slight chill to the air. The weather here was so different. The day could be hot and dry, then often in the afternoon a brief rain would come down from the mountains and by night the air would be cool. She marveled at the glow of electric lighting coming from the neighboring houses. Folks in this elite community wouldn’t know how to function without their wealth. If things were as bad as Jake thought, Marty couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to these people.

  Of course, she knew that the rich usually had contingencies for such things. They wouldn’t suffer as much as those poor souls who relied on the generosity of the wealthy.

  Rubbing her arms, Marty closed the window again and took up her book. She heard the large grandfather clock chime the hour. Nine o’clock. And still there was no sign of Jake. Marty wondered how the meeting was going—what it would mean for them.

  She couldn’t help but think of the ranch. She knew that Jake had put aside money for what he hoped would be his future purchase of a spread in Texas. She knew that this tragedy could prevent that from ever happening. Maybe that was the answer to her problems.

  Am I hopelessly greedy in wanting things my own way? Is it wrong to hope that the financial situation will keep us right here in Denver?

  Marty had read nearly half of her book by the time she heard someone at the door to Jake’s bedroom. She listened and waited. She’d left both of her dressing room doors open wide in hopes that he would come and tell her all about the meeting. Voices were soon evident.

  “I won’t need anything, Brighton. Go ahead and retire. I’m sure that anything I have to see to can wait until morning.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Marty heard the exchange and noted the weariness in her husband’s voice. Maybe it would be better if they didn’t speak. Maybe the news would be so bad that she’d be unable to sleep.

  But maybe if I share the load with him, Jake will rest better. Given her guilt over the ranch, Marty wanted to push aside her own selfish needs and reach out to Jake.

  “Marty?” Jake called from the dressing room.

  “I’m in here. Please join me,” she called back. She put the book away, then adjusted her robe to make certain she wasn’t being immodest.

  Jake entered the room in a state of undress. His tie was gone and shirt unbuttoned partway but still tucked into his trousers. He’d shed his shoes, coat, and vest and looked more tired than Marty had ever seen him. It gave Marty a start. He looked far more like a Texas cowboy than a Colorado banker.

  He plopped into one of the wingback chairs by the fireplace and began to rub his neck.

  “Let me,” Marty said, pushing his hands aside. “I’m pretty good at this. Years of milking and toting gave me strong hands.” She began to knead his tight muscles.

  “Oh, that feels so good. Thank you.” For several minutes he said nothing more. Marty remained silent, as well. It was one of the most intimate moments she could recall having with him. They were like an old married couple at the end of a busy day. The thought made her smile.

  Finally, after nearly ten minutes had passed, Jake stilled her hands and motioned her to sit. “The news is better taken sitting down.”

  “That bad—already?”

  He nodded. “They fully expect that hundreds of banks will close almost overnight in anticipation of what’s to come. Ours isn’t one of them—at least not yet. We’re strong enough to survive for a time, but there’s no way of knowing how long that will last. Morgan has in mind to close a couple of the branches and consolidate all his efforts into just a few banks. Ours would be one of them, and he wants me to oversee the reorganization.”

  “So you won’t lose your position?”

  “Not yet. But who knows what will happen in the months to come. There’s no way of estimating just how bad this is going to get, Marty. Most of the silver mines are going to close. The value of silver has dropped already. This will send property values sliding. I feel bad because I promised you pleasantries and a life of ease, and now this is going to change everything. We’re going to have to let some of the staff go and tighten our belts.”

  “That’s all right. We can manage.” She tried to not think of what Alice might do. The poor girl needed protection, as well as a job. Perhaps she could send her to Hannah.

  “I figure we’ll keep Samson, Brighton, Mrs. Landry, and Alice for now. Oh, and Mrs. Standish. Unfortunately, the others will have to go.”

  “If need be, Jake, I’m a pretty fair cook and I know perfectly well how to care for horses and hitch my own carriage, although I’d hate to lose Samson. I can also wash clothes and clean house. I am, as you have always said, quite capable.”

  Jake nodded. “You’ve proven that again and again. You know how to handle yourself and you don’t need anyone.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Marty’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I’m becoming rather dependent on you. I rather like our time together.”

  He gave her a weary smile and his drawl thickened. “Yup. I do, too.” A sigh escaped his lips. “I just don’t know how bad this is gonna get. I figure we should know better in a few weeks, but for now it’s a mystery.”

  “Then we hunker down and ride out the storm,” Marty replied. “We’re young and strong. I’ve even got a few things—things I left in Texas that I can sell.”

  “No, I don’t want you doing that. At least not yet. There’s no need. I have money set aside—at least as long as the bank is solvent.”

  “Is there a chance it won’t remain so?”

  “There’s no way of knowing, and I can’t very well pull my money out. Even though I might want to.” He laughed. “Imagine that—the bank manager, soon to be vice-president, pulling his savings out for fear that the bank will collapse. That wouldn’t go over well.”

  “I suppose not,” Marty agreed. In the back of her mind she thought again of the ranch. She could sell it and give the money over to Jake or at least use it for their day-to-day expenses. That would resolve several problems at once. Maybe Will would buy it from her rather than just take it back. She could ask him for a pittance of what it was worth.

  “I’m gonna need you to watch your spending—not that you’ve ever given me reason to worry. Seems like the only time you have spent money has been for someone else—like the orphans.”

  “That won’t be a problem. I already have a good bolt of broadcloth for the projects I’m working on. Otherwise, I don’t need anything.”

  “I’ll speak to Mrs. Landry about the household budget, as well.”

  “We can certainly eat in a simpler manner. Unless you need to entertain, I can do quite well on bean
s and tortillas.” She grinned. “Of course, I doubt Mrs. Standish knows how to make tortillas, but I could teach her.”

  Jake nodded. “I would enjoy some tortillas myself. It’s been a long time.”

  She leaned forward. “Seriously, we can weather this together. I’m not worried about social status or fancy baubles. Although I will say the roses you sent today were beautiful and most appreciated.”

  “You deserved them. That and much more. You’ve been a good wife and done everything you agreed to. You even go to church with me, and I know you’ve had a difficult time with that.”

  Marty felt her heart squeeze at his words. “Maybe it’s time to stop having such a hard time of it.” She got up and walked to the fireplace. “I know my anger at God needs to end. I know the truth, and I can’t just go on ignoring it.”

  “I feel the same way, Marty. Maybe it’s time we repented and let the past go.”

  She met his eyes. Such wonderful eyes.

  Getting to his feet, Jake came to where she stood. “There’s been a lot of things I’ve done wrong in life, Martha Wythe, but you aren’t one of those things. I think you’re probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Marty didn’t know what to say. She was touched at his declaration and hoped with all her heart that Jake might seal his statement with a kiss. She offered what she hoped was an inviting smile. Jake just held her gaze for a few silent moments, then let go his hold.

  “I’m gonna get some sleep before I fall down. You’d better do the same. No tellin’ what tomorrow’s gonna bring.”

  Marty slept restlessly, and by the time dawn cracked the horizon, she was up and pacing. A thought had come to her: Alice said she read her Bible and prayed every morning before work. Would she be doing just that at this hour?

  Making her way to the third floor, Marty crept along the hallway to the room Mrs. Landry had assigned Alice. There was light coming from beneath the door, so Marty gave a light knock.

  Alice opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise. “Marty, is something wrong?”

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course. It’s your house.” Alice backed up and pulled the door open.

  Marty went into the simple room and noted the furnishings. The bed had already been made and the side table revealed an open Bible. “I remember you said that you spent this time in prayer and reading the Word of God.”

  “I do. I was just getting ready to pray when you knocked.”

  “I . . . well . . . I’ve not been right with God for a very long while now, as you know,” Marty began. “I blamed God for taking Thomas from me, and I know it was wrong. It just hurt so much to lose him. Seemed easy to blame God for most of my miseries.”

  Alice nodded. “I know how much it hurt to lose my father and mother. I can only imagine the pain of losing a husband.”

  “My sister, Hannah, shared the plan of salvation with me when I was just a little girl. It seemed so easy then to accept that Jesus would come to earth and give His life to bring us into right accord with His Father—God. I remember Hannah telling me that Jesus loved me so much that He would rather die a horrible death on a cross than spend eternity without me.” She smiled. “Isn’t that a sweet way of putting it?”

  Again Alice nodded, but this time she said nothing, as if sensing that Marty needed to get something off her chest.

  “I asked Jesus to forgive me my sins, just like Hannah told me to do. I was a terrible liar at that time . . . I still have trouble with lies.” She frowned. “Hannah told me lying was a sin just as much as killing was—that sin was sin in the eyes of God. All sin would keep us from Him.”

  Marty toyed with the belt of her robe. “I know the truth, and I’ve ignored it these last four years. Well, maybe not in whole, but in every way that mattered. I put a wall between me and God, and frankly . . . I’m tired, and I think it’s time for that wall to come down.”

  Alice smiled and nodded. “Would you like to pray . . . with me?”

  Marty felt a sense of relief and warmth of comfort pour over her. “I would like that very much.”

  Alice took hold of her hand. “I think God would like it, too.”

  Chapter 20

  The weeks slipped by in a nightmarish sort of madness. Marty continued her work with the orphans, feeling that it offered her some semblance of order. But in truth, life in Denver verged on chaotic.

  Daily the papers told of the financial collapse and all the problems that the state was bound to face. Women’s suffrage was mentioned in the background, with some people claiming it would pass on the ballot come November. Marty had never concerned herself much with politics or the idea of voting, but given the state of the country, perhaps women did need to have a voice.

  She considered the day laid out for her that June morning, and while the morning’s activities were to her liking, the afternoon’s were less favorable. She would first go to the orphanage; Marty loved getting to know the children, and today she planned to take pinafores for all the girls. Samson had already loaded them in the carriage. And, lest the boys feel left out, Marty had managed, with the help of Mrs. Landry, to secure a good number of donated shirts. She figured the sizes would be questionable, but since there hadn’t been time to measure and sew for each boy, this would have to do. Those, too, awaited her in the carriage.

  She ate breakfast alone that morning, as she often did of late. Jake had been forced to arrive at the bank earlier and earlier. Just as Jake had predicted, many banks were folding, though Mr. Morgan’s banks seemed to be managing. Jake served faithfully to see that they continued to keep their place in the business world, but who could say where it would all end. Often he was gone until late at night, and Marty noticed that he’d begun to lose weight.

  Soon after Jake had mentioned his concerns for both the banks and the silver market, Marty had written to Hannah. In the letter she had requested that Will sell her ranch. She told Hannah that she would prefer they buy the land so it would remain in the family.

  Marty was anxious to hear what her sister would have to say, but feared Hannah would brush aside her concerns for the banks and her husband’s job and instead chide Marty for not simply returning to Texas. But for Marty, Texas was still a thorn in her side.

  The children at the orphanage welcomed Marty with open arms that morning. The kids had come to recognize her carriage and would eagerly await her arrival. Since it was summer, school was concluded for the time, and Marty had taken the opportunity to volunteer her time to read with them more often.

  “Children, Mrs. Wythe has come with gifts this morning,” Mrs. Staples announced. She was one of the caretakers of the children and although strict, was quite pleasant. “You will have a chance to receive a present later—if you listen well to the story and do not give Mrs. Wythe any trouble.”

  “What’s the present?” one of the boys asked.

  Mrs. Staples smiled. “Robert, you will have to wait with everyone else until after story time. Mrs. Wythe cannot spend all day with us. She has other appointments to tend to after this.”

  Marty waited until some of the other children posed their questions before pulling out her book. This signaled the children to take their seats on the floor around her. She waited patiently until everyone was positioned where they wanted to be.

  “Good morning, children,” she said, smiling. “I’ve brought a new book today, just as I promised. This one is called The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.”

  “Who’s that?” a boy named Clyde asked.

  “He’s an energetic young boy who has many great adventures along the Mississippi River,” Marty replied.

  “Is he a big boy?” one of the little girls asked.

  Someone else called out, “Does he swim in the river?”

  Marty laughed. “Why don’t I read the book, and then you’ll see for yourself what kind of boy our Tom is and how he lives his life.”

  She opened the book and thumbed to the beginning. “Chapter one.”
r />   The children settled in and Marty, in her animated way, began to read.

  After entertaining the children for over an hour—without a single one wanting to leave or do something else—Marty had to bid the children good-bye. She didn’t want to leave. Leaving meant she would have to attend the luncheon being hosted by Mrs. Carmichael. The pretentious rich woman gave Marty a case of hives. Well, very nearly.

  Samson waited faithfully to help her into the carriage. “There’s lots of folks out today,” he told her. “Might be late.”

  “That would be fine with me,” Marty murmured. “I wouldn’t even be attending if it wasn’t important to keep up appearances.”

  “Yes’m.”

  She settled against the leather upholstery and sighed as Samson merged into traffic. Marty couldn’t help but feel like she’d left a part of her heart behind. A half dozen of the youngest had given her hugs before she’d departed. It made her want to load them all into her carriage and take them home. The children gave meaning and purpose to her life, and she was starting to consider speaking to Jake about adoption.

  Of course, the timing wasn’t exactly ideal; it might be difficult to care for children in an uncertain future. Still, Marty knew that the children needed love and attention whether the economy fell apart or not. They couldn’t comprehend the devaluation of silver or the insolvency of banks. Nor should they have to. Children were to be loved and protected, and Marty found herself stirred to do both.

  Mrs. Carmichael’s butler met Marty at the door with a curt nod. He ushered her to the garden, where tables had been laid for their luncheon. Mrs. Carmichael greeted Marty in her cool and composed manner. She always had a way of making Marty feel substandard, no matter the gathering.

  “Mrs. Wythe.” She peered at Marty as if she were something the cat had dragged in. “We feared you weren’t coming.”

  “Mrs. Carmichael. It was kind of you to invite me.” Marty smiled and nodded her head toward a group of society matrons seated around a table.

  “Please have a seat. I believe we can finally get started.”