“The trust pays for college,” Reggie pointed out, sounding a bit panicky. “You can’t touch my trust.”
“Apparently it’s not enough. Father put two women out of their home to fund your trust, and you waste it.”
At last his words seemed to sink in, for Reggie dropped to the chair opposite Brandon and slumped forward. “You’re not just saying that?” He scrubbed his chin, which Brandon noticed wasn’t as clean-shaven as normal. In fact, Reggie’s attire didn’t come to his usual high standard.
“I found the transaction in Father’s account books. Would you like to see it?” He hauled his father’s final ledger from the desk drawer.
“No. No.” Reggie shuddered. “I believe you.” He looked up, and Brandon noticed he’d paled and his lips trembled. “What do we do?”
In all Brandon’s days, Reggie had never come to him for advice. As a child, he’d run to Father, always to Father, who gave him whatever he wanted. Now that this security was gone, Reggie had nowhere else to turn.
Brandon sighed. “What is the exact amount you need to pay off this debt?”
“Three thousand three hundred and eighteen dollars.”
Brandon stared at his checkbook balance. Thirty-four hundred dollars. And that was his personal account. The bookstore account contained less than a hundred dollars, not enough to cover the mounting pile of bills. He’d planned to pay them from his personal account. If he gave Reggie the full amount, there wouldn’t be enough left in both accounts combined to settle the debt he already had, not to mention ordering the popular novels and paying Anna’s wages.
“Do you have any money?” he asked, more hopeful than expectant.
“I already gave them everything, even sold my best suit, but they increase the interest every day.”
Brandon squeezed his eyes shut. He had to do it. “Then you’ll need three thousand four hundred.” The entire balance in his account.
Reggie’s hands shook. “If you can spare it.”
Brandon turned the checkbook around so Reggie could see that he was giving him a check for the entire balance.
His brother blanched. “I’m sorry. I’ll find some way to repay you.”
Brandon numbly wrote the check. Reggie wouldn’t repay him. His brother couldn’t hold on to a dime. “Where are you staying tonight?”
“With the Neideckers.” Reggie did not lift his eyes to look at Brandon. “Sally promised to drive me to Detroit tomorrow if I got the money.”
Brandon tore the check from the checkbook and handed it to his brother. “You’ll stay here.” He wasn’t about to offer his brother an option.
Reggie held the check as if it were gold. “Thank you, brother.”
“As you can see, there’s no more where that came from.”
Reggie nodded as he stood. “I’ll pay you back.”
Another idle promise. Brandon waved him away. He needed time alone to consider how to get out of this financial mess. He’d just given all he had to help someone in need, exactly what the Bible preached.
He looked at the window, blackened by night. Does this repay the debt, Lord?
He hoped for an affirmative reply, but deep down he knew it would never come.
* * *
Anna could hardly wait to see Brandon the next morning. His brother left early, while she was walking toward the house to make breakfast. He’d seen her but looked away at once and hurried on his way by foot. She feared the brothers had quarreled. Brandon certainly hadn’t been pleased with Reggie when they’d left the party. The two men hadn’t said a word during the drive home.
She wondered if it was because Reggie appeared at the ball with Sally. Or maybe he was angry that Reggie missed his Friday classes. Though the Neideckers held the event on Friday evening rather than on Valentine’s Day, the drive from Ann Arbor would have taken all day.
For the first time, she served breakfast in the dining room. Ma had walked to the house using the cane Brandon had loaned her, and, after Anna got her seated, she called upstairs that breakfast was served.
Brandon descended moments later, but instead of joining them, donned his coat. “I have business at the bookstore.”
“But Ma’s here today. She’d love to see you.”
The tightness of his jaw told her he would not budge. “Give my regrets to your mother.” He did not wait for her reply.
The cold air and slam of the door smashed her joy. Last night they’d been so happy together. He had set aside his cane and danced with her. His limp had vanished. Today, he leaned more than ever on the cane. Worry scoured his brow. His shoulders slumped. Something terrible must have happened.
“Brothers often fight,” Ma said over breakfast. “I’m sure they’ll work it out in the end.”
Anna looked at Brandon’s empty chair. “Maybe I can help.”
Ma shook her head. “It’s between them, dearest. The best we can do is to pray for them.”
Anna couldn’t just pray. God had given people hands and feet so they could act. She would root out the problem and fix it.
Later, while cleaning the house, she pondered the situation. No doubt Reggie had done something foolish that irritated Brandon. Perhaps a little commiseration would do the trick. Unless it was more serious. Then Brandon would need more than cheering.
Perhaps a distraction would help. Anna always found that she thought more clearly when she wasn’t staring at the problem up close. Maybe he would go to the cinema with her. A Buster Keaton short was playing. No, he’d say that would set the gossips’ tongues wagging.
She propped her chin on the broom handle, thinking. At last an idea popped into her head, a brilliant idea. Between the excavation in Egypt and the rumors of a lost fortune in Pearlman, the town had been abuzz. Everyone was talking about treasure hunting. She could follow through on Felicity’s suggestion to search for the lost fortune with Brandon. Of course he’d denied such a fortune existed, but maybe he’d tell her the truth now, after their dance last night.
Even if he refused to hunt for treasure, she could talk him into adding a section on Egyptian antiquities to the bookstore. That would attract customers.
She whistled as she worked, delighted with her ideas. The housecleaning took less time than ever, and by eleven o’clock, she was on her way to rescue Brandon from his doldrums.
* * *
The bookstore was dark and silent when Anna arrived.
She pushed the button to turn on the new electric lights and looked around for Brandon. The front door was unlocked. He should be here. Yet there was no sign of anyone.
What if something had happened to him? What if the store had been robbed and he’d been hit over the head? What if the thief was still here? A robbery hadn’t happened in Pearlman in years, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t.
“Brandon?” She crept between the shelves, looking left and right, alert to any sound.
He didn’t answer.
“Brandon?” she said a bit louder, hoping to scare off any thief. “I’ll get Hendrick and Peter. They’re nearby.” That wasn’t exactly true, but hopefully a thief wouldn’t know the difference. Unless the thief came from Pearlman. Then he’d know that Peter was four blocks away and Hendrick a good quarter-mile distant.
Still no reply.
The door to the back room was closed. Brandon usually kept it shut when someone was at the sales counter, but he never shut it when he was here alone. Hand trembling, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.
A solitary lamp lit the room. Brandon stared vacantly at a pile of paper on his desk. He didn’t move. He didn’t look at her. He appeared comatose, frozen in place.
“Brandon?” she whispered, half afraid he wouldn’t answer and half afraid he would.
The man looked like death, with dark rings under his eyes. T
he tiff with his brother must be worse than she thought.
Slowly, achingly, he looked up, and his eyes gradually fixed on her. His jaw worked. He swallowed. Then he looked again at the papers, as if the bright light behind her was too much to bear.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked.
She rushed to him, knelt beside him at the desk. She wanted to comfort him, to wipe away the anguish, but how? She couldn’t find the words and was afraid to touch him. In such a state, he might lash out. So she asked what he was sorry about.
He dropped his head into his hands. “I had to cancel the popular-novel section.”
“Why?” This made no sense. What on earth could a fight with Reggie have to do with her popular-novel section?
He pushed aside the papers and shut the ledger. “I can’t make it work.”
He was giving up. He couldn’t give up.
“You haven’t even tried,” she cried. “I’m positive the popular novels will bring in more business than ever.”
Earlier that week he’d agreed to do this. What had changed his mind? Had Reggie said something about her, something that turned Brandon’s opinion? Reggie had come to the ball with Sally. She might have told him a terrible lie. She had been furious with Brandon that day in the mercantile when he’d cut her to size.
Anna swallowed hard. “Whatever your brother said, it can’t be true.”
Brandon didn’t even look at her. This was worse than she thought.
Trembling, she rose. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Trust has nothing to do with this.” His voice sounded flat, dull, tired. “I made a decision. I’m sorry.”
She stared, slowly moving her head from side to side in disbelief. “Is that all? Aren’t I entitled to some explanation?”
He rubbed his eyes. “I’ve said enough.”
“But—”
“Please. I don’t want to talk about this now.”
He was dismissing her, sending her off like a child. Well, she wasn’t a baby. She was entitled to know why he was doing this, why he’d changed overnight. She worked here. She had helped put this store together. Her ideas would work; they would, but not if refused to try them.
“Don’t I deserve to know what’s going on?”
He sighed. “Please, Anna, the store is closed. I need to be alone.”
But he’d left the front door open. He was in no condition to be left alone. “I won’t leave you.”
“I don’t want to fight.” He pushed aside the ledger and stood. “Please lock the door when you leave.”
“B-but I came here to work.”
He lifted dull, vacant eyes. “I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to keep you on.”
“What?” Had she heard correctly? She staggered back a step. He was firing her? Whatever Reggie had told him must have been awful. “It’s not true.” A little sob rose in her throat. “Whatever you heard, it’s not true.”
“You’re making this harder.” He turned from her. “Please do me this last favor and leave me alone.”
Last favor? Dear Lord, he despised her. The sob raced up her throat, and her hand couldn’t keep it from coming out. He hated her. He couldn’t stand to look at her.
Tears blurred her vision, but somehow she found the doorway, stumbled through and made her way past the book stacks and out the front door into the cold. Sleet pelted her cheeks, but it could not cool her distress.
“Why, Anna, whatever’s wrong?” asked Eloise Grattan, her bulk blocking the sidewalk. “Did you quarrel with Mr. Landers? He is rather a cold fish.”
Cold fish? Her words snapped some sense into Anna. She turned on Eloise. “Brandon is the most giving and honorable man I know.”
Eloise tossed her head in a poor imitation of Sally. “Then why won’t he help his brother?”
“That’s between them and none of our business.”
“Don’t you mean your business?” Eloise lifted her nose. “I know why you’re chasing him, but don’t think for a moment that he’s going to give you a dime of that lost fortune.”
“He said there is no fortune.”
Eloise laughed unkindly. “Of course he’d say that. But I have it on good authority that they’re looking for it.”
“No, he’s not,” she said, but was she sure? “Who told you this?”
Eloise gave her a knowing look. “You know who. They’re practically engaged.”
Engaged? Surely Eloise didn’t mean Brandon. He hadn’t spoken of any other woman. She must mean Sally and Reggie. They’d attended the ball together last night. Given that Eloise was a friend of Sally, it was the only logical explanation.
With a parting grin, Eloise said, “Don’t think a cent of it will come to you. Money always marries money.”
A lump formed in Anna’s throat but not because of the treasure. It was never hers to begin with. No, she ached for Brandon. What if the quarrel between Brandon and Reggie had been over the lost fortune? What if Reggie and Sally had found it and took all the money for themselves? That would explain Brandon’s distress. That would explain everything.
She stumbled backward and leaned against the front window for support. Poor Brandon.
And she’d just run out when he needed her most.
Chapter Fifteen
After collecting her wits, Anna walked back into the bookstore. He’d said he couldn’t afford to keep her on. Well, she’d offer to work without pay. If he still needed money, she’d tell him she knew about the family’s lost fortune and offer to help find it. If Reggie had already found the money, she’d turn to her second idea and propose the archaeology section. Maybe he’d like that better than the popular fiction.
Her heart pounded wildly as she made her way between the shelves to the back room. It nearly beat through her rib cage when she knocked on the closed door.
She waited, listened.
Nothing.
Another knock brought the same lack of response. What if something had happened? What if he’d tripped and cracked his head on the corner of the desk? What if he was lying unconscious on the floor?
She pushed open the door and found the room...empty.
“Brandon?” she asked tentatively.
He wasn’t anywhere near the desk. The pile of paper, ledger and old books sat exactly where they’d been a moment before. He wasn’t at the shelving or in the washroom. Its door stood wide open. He was simply gone.
Brandon wouldn’t have left the store without checking that she’d locked the front door, which of course she’d forgotten to do. Nor would he leave the lights on. Where had he gone?
She scoured the room again, this time more carefully. When she reached the desk, she noticed something had changed. This time the ledger lay open. A glance at the figures made her gasp. She settled into the chair for a closer look.
The bookstore had laid out a great deal of money to get up and running, and the balance had dwindled to almost nothing. Beside the ledger sat a pile of bills—unpaid bills. They had to total almost four hundred dollars. Maybe Brandon was a poor businessman, like her father. A career in journalism didn’t prepare a man to run a business.
A lump formed in her throat. Brandon was in trouble.
No wonder he’d closed the store today. No wonder he’d let her go. No wonder he’d canceled the popular-novels section. He couldn’t afford them. That meant he couldn’t afford an archaeology section either.
If he didn’t supplement the store with his own money, it was going to fail. Before today, she would have assumed he’d do just that. The Landerses were wealthy. At least everyone thought they were. She suspected that wealth was only a mirage. Why else would the brothers be looking for the lost fortune?
She rubbed her temples. What could she do? How could she help? The wage he’d paid her was far b
eyond his means. He’d given Ma and her a place to live. They ate his food, enjoyed his hospitality.
Her lips quivered, flavored by salt. She brushed away a tear. He’d given her so much, and how had she repaid him? By fighting him, taking from him and asking for more.
From now on, she would work with him. Somehow, together, they’d find a way out of this mess.
“What are you doing?” Brandon’s question shot through her spine.
She turned around slowly, trying not to look guilty. “I was looking for you.”
He dropped the metal waste bin. It clattered on the wood floor. He’d taken out the trash. That’s where he’d been.
“It looks to me like you’re reading my accounts.”
What could she say? She had been. Despite shaky legs, she rose to face him.
“I’m sorry. I saw the ledger open while looking for you.”
His displeasure didn’t ease. “So you couldn’t resist examining what wasn’t yours.”
Something horrible fluttered in her breast, threatening to take the air out of her lungs. She tried to find the right words, but none would come.
* * *
Brandon fought the bile rising in his throat. She’d been snooping. The Anna he knew would never have looked at his ledger, even though it was lying open. She would have trusted him, relied on him, believed in him.
Something had changed. She no longer accepted his word. Like everyone else in his life, she focused only on her needs and desires. Now, as he looked into her frightened eyes, he knew she’d lied. Just like Father and Reggie and every Landers before them.
She trembled visibly, but he would not let her distress get to him.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was thick. “I shouldn’t have looked.” She blinked rapidly. “I want to help. I want to help you save the store.”
She had sincerely owned her mistake, and the frost that had built up around his heart began to melt. He’d been wrong to judge her by his family’s standards, but he could not allow her to get involved in his problems.
“You’ve done enough,” he said stiffly.
She looked even more distressed. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been selfish.” She blinked more rapidly.
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