by Nerys Leigh
Perhaps he should have kept that piece of information to himself. “Technically, no. But I think we’re both happier this way since now I don’t have to wait to find out what she did and you don’t have to carry the burden of keeping her visit a secret.” He flashed her what he hoped was a charming smile.
She rolled her eyes. “You are worse than terrible.”
She turned away and resumed walking, but by the hint of a smile he glimpsed, he knew she didn’t really mean it.
“Nancy adores you too, you know,” he said, pushing at his wheels to catch up. “She was looking forward to you coming almost as much as I was, but now you’re here she’s just about exploding with excitement.”
Her eyes stayed on the road ahead of them. “And how about you? Are you happy I’m here?”
Speeding up, he rolled round into her path, forcing her to stop and look at him.
“Do you really have to ask me that?” He studied her face as he waited for her answer. He needed to be sure she knew just how he felt about her being there.
A slow smile curved her lips. “No, I suppose I don’t.”
He nodded and moved out of her way. He had nothing to worry about. She knew.
“Are you tired?” he said as they started moving again. “Or would you like to go for a ride, now you can get on and off a horse while disappointingly covered up?”
She glanced down at him with a smile. “I think frustrating you with my decency sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Chapter 8
Jesse wheeled through the back entrance to the bank with a smile on his face. To his mild surprise, the smile was still there after he’d hung up his jacket, deposited his lunch in his desk drawer, and gone to fetch the ledgers he’d need for his work from Mr Vernon’s office.
“When Mr Emerson arrives, tell him I’d like to see him before we open,” the bank’s owner said from his seat behind his huge desk.
“Yes, sir.”
Jesse was still smiling when he got back to his desk in the room he optimistically called his office, which also doubled, tripled and quadrupled as the file room, supplies closet, and the employee break room, as well as being the thoroughfare between the bank lobby and the rest of the building. To retain a smile for that long after getting into work was unheard of for him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like his job. Considering his limited career options, accountancy wasn’t bad. It paid well and he found working with the absolutes of numbers soothing, if occasionally a little monotonous. But going to the same place every day wasn’t his idea of fun, so the smile was unusual. When he thought about it, however, his good mood wasn’t entirely unexpected. He’d been smiling a lot since Louisa arrived.
Thinking of her made him smile even more and he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, lowering the pencil he’d picked up to the desk. He wondered what she was doing at that moment. What was she wearing? Was it the green dress she’d arrived in? Or the blue skirt and white blouse she’d worn on Saturday? She probably wasn’t wearing the one with the lace she’d worn the previous day, that seemed too formal for everyday wear, but he gave it some thought anyway. The way her beautiful auburn hair contrasted with the cream colour, the soft fabric skimming her figure and flowing around her as she moved.
Was she thinking about him the same way he was thinking about her? He’d noticed her watching him more than once, and he was almost sure he’d caught her staring at his chest at the livery on Saturday. He allowed himself just a touch of pride in that. He did, after all, work hard on his physical condition. It was nice to know it had benefits beyond keeping him healthy and able to take care of himself.
When he thought about it, he found it likely she was as attracted to him as he was to her. All right, maybe not as attracted since he thought about her practically constantly and could barely keep his eyes from her when they were together, but there was definitely some attraction there. He could work with that.
“You look cheerful.”
Jesse opened his eyes to see Adam hanging his jacket on the coat rack. Engrossed in his thoughts of Louisa, he hadn’t heard him come in.
He leaned back in his chair and twirled the pencil through his fingers, watching his friend with amusement. Adam was all but glowing.
“I’m not the only one.” He felt the need to remind him of his impromptu short sermon during the previous day’s church service. “What was all that yesterday about Miss Watts needing a friend and not a husband?”
“We are friends.”
Jesse pointed the pencil at him. “That is not the face of a man who has just found a new friend.”
“I didn’t say I don’t want to be more,” Adam said, smirking. “So how’s it going with Louisa?”
It was Jesse’s turn to smile as he lowered the pencil onto the open ledger in front of him. “She’s agreed to give me two weeks. That’s more than any other girl has. And she’s amazing. She’s smart and funny and kind and she doesn’t speak to me like I’m different. I have a good feeling about this.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “You’ve seen her. Isn’t she the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on?”
“Don’t you start,” Adam said, tutting. “First Dan claims Sara is prettier than Amy, and now you’re saying it about Louisa. Yes, Louisa and Sara are both pretty, but no one comes close to Amy. The two of you are obviously in need of spectacles.”
Jesse burst into laughter. “I think we were all matched right. Oh, by the way, Vernon wants to see you before you open up.”
He watched Adam walk through the door to the back corridor, certain he detected a spring in his friend’s step. So things weren’t going quite how either of them had planned, but God had brought them both wonderful women who were perfect for them. He would work it out, Jesse had no doubt.
Advertising for mail order brides was turning out to be one of the best ideas he’d ever had.
~ ~ ~
“Jesse?”
He looked up from his desk to see Adam leaning in through the doorway to the lobby. “Hmm?”
“There’s a Mr Foster here, says he has questions about the loan he took out a month ago. Can you sort it out?”
“Yeah, send him in.” He did a quick tidy of his desk while Adam disappeared back through the door.
A few seconds later he walked back in with an older man wearing a crumpled blue shirt and clutching a hat in front of him like a shield. Behind Mr Foster’s back Adam gave Jesse a slight shrug and returned to the lobby, closing the door behind him.
“Good afternoon, Mr Foster, I’m Mr Johnson. Please, take a seat.” He waved a hand at the chair on the other side of his desk and smiled in an attempt to put Mr Foster at ease. The man looked like he was ready to bolt. “What can I do for you?”
Mr Foster set his hat in his lap. “Well, Mr Johnson...” His brow furrowed. “Wait, are you the blacksmith’s boy?”
“Yes, sir, Peter Johnson is my father.”
Mr Foster nodded slowly and tried to surreptitiously peer over the top of the desk to see Jesse’s legs.
He stifled a sigh. Even after twenty-six years people still treated him like an oddity. “So, Mr Foster, how can I help you today? Mr Emerson said you had questions about your loan?”
Mr Foster sat back, looking slightly disappointed but decidedly more relaxed than he had when he entered. “Well, I took out a loan a month ago to build a new barn. With this weather I’m expecting a bumper crop of corn this year. Figured it was about time and my wife said she’d had enough of trying to squeeze into the other one when all the crops are in so...”
Jesse smiled and nodded and waited patiently for the tale of life on the Foster farm to get round to the point while his thoughts drifted to wondering what Louisa was doing at that moment.
“...and my oldest, Francis, he’s just finishing school, real smart he is, he was taking a look at the papers Mr Ransom gave me about the loan and he said something ain’t right. Now I’m not saying Mr Ransom got anything wrong, I’m sure he’s an
educated man and he sure does look fancy with his clothes and silver watch and everything, but I just wanted to make sure.” He thrust two rumpled pieces of paper across the desk. “This is what he gave me.”
Jesse dragged his thoughts from how Louisa’s hair shimmered when the sun touched it and took the pages. Rotherford Ransom’s precise handwriting covered the paper, setting out figures and terms and repayments. It was a standard loan agreement, the kind Ransom issued all the time when the amount of the loan was low enough and simple enough that Mr Vernon was happy to let his secretary of seventeen years deal with it.
“So what exactly is the problem, Mr Foster?” Jesse said, still reading.
“Well, Francis said the payments aren’t right. He’s real good at math, you see.”
Jesse scanned down to the amount of the loan then on to the percentage and repayment figures. Frowning, he looked again through both pages to check if he’d missed anything then returned to the amounts.
“Would you excuse me?” He pushed back from the desk. “I need to go and double check this. I’ll be right back.”
He took the loan agreement, leaving Mr Foster staring after him and his wheelchair as he left the room through the door opposite the lobby and headed for his boss’ office.
Mr Ransom was, as usual, at his desk outside the office door. He looked up at Jesse’s approach.
“Rotherford...” Jesse began.
Ransom frowned, narrowing his eyes in disapproval. Even after four years of working together he detested the familiarity of using first names.
Every so often, Jesse used his given name on purpose, just to annoy the man.
“Sorry, Mr Ransom,” he said. “Is Mr Vernon in?”
“He stepped out. May I help you with something?” His expression said he didn’t want to help with anything and that Jesse’s mere presence was disturbing his work. But then he always looked like that.
“I need to check April’s ledger. I’ve got a Mr Foster at my desk. He took out a loan last month and he’s questioning the payments. I checked and he’s right, the payments are too high for the amount he borrowed at that rate. You dealt with the loan, do you remember him?”
An expression flashed across Ransom’s face for a moment, barely long enough to see, but Jesse could have sworn it was fear. He dismissed the thought as soon as it came to him. What would Ransom have to be afraid about?
He put down his pen. “No, but I issue a lot of loans. Let me see.” He held out his hand for the loan agreement.
Jesse handed it over and waited while Ransom pushed his narrow spectacles up onto his forehead and perused the papers.
“Ah, yes, I remember now. Mr Foster changed his mind after I’d already written the loan amount on there and asked for more. Rather than writing out a whole new agreement I wrote an addendum and filled in the new payment amount on this one. He must have forgotten to bring the addendum with him.” He raised his eyes and his glasses flopped back down onto his nose. “Send him through and I’ll speak with him.”
“Okay. I should check the ledger anyway, make sure the correct amount is recorded in there.”
Ransom gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll let Mr Vernon know you want it when he returns.”
Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Ransom smile, eyes or otherwise. Probably just having a particularly good day. As he headed back along the corridor, he wondered what a good day would entail for Rotherford Ransom. Maybe when he got home he was planning on alphabetising his socks by colour.
“Mr Foster,” he said when he reached his office, “if you’d like to come through, Mr Ransom will help you.”
With Mr Foster gone, Jesse wheeled back to his desk and picked up his pencil. Then he put it down again. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Maybe it was what had happened to Adam earlier. That was probably it.
He picked his pencil up again. Five minutes later, Mr Foster walked back into the room.
“Get everything cleared up?” Jesse said.
“Oh yes, Mr Ransom explained all about the extras. He’s so helpful and kind. A credit to the bank he is. A real gentleman.”
Jesse nodded slowly. “I, uh, I’m sure. Have a good day, Mr Foster.”
“You too, Mr Johnson,” he replied as he left. “Give my regards to your father.”
“I will.”
Jesse dropped his pencil again, sitting back and looking at the door to the back corridor. The bothering something had returned, nagging at the back of his mind. He wasn’t by nature a suspicious person, so when it happened he took notice. Except this wasn’t a suspicion, as such. More a feeling. And he was well aware feelings were often wrong.
Shaking his head to dislodge the bothering, nagging feeling that had no basis in solid fact whatsoever, he picked up the pencil. It was nothing. He’d check the ledger when Vernon got back in and reassure himself it was all fine.
Why wouldn’t it be?
~ ~ ~
Mr Vernon didn’t return to the bank the entire rest of the day.
That wasn’t in itself unusual. He had other business concerns, being probably the richest man in Green Hill Creek, and at least once a week he would leave the running of the bank to Ransom and Jesse and whoever was manning the lobby. Usually Jesse wouldn’t think twice about it. Today he thought about it much more than twice.
At two-thirty he wheeled through to Ransom’s desk. “I’d really like to check that ledger before I go home.”
Ransom looked up from the papers on his desk, raising one hand to lower his spectacles onto his nose. “I went to get it for you earlier, when it appeared that Mr Vernon wouldn’t be returning for the day, but it seems he’s taken the keys to the cupboard with him.” He smiled again. That was twice in one day. “I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”
Jesse glanced at the door to Mr Vernon’s office. He could have pointed out that seeing as all there was in that cupboard was paperwork, the owner of the bank never took the keys with him, being content to leave them in his desk.
But the nagging, bothering feeling stopped him.
“Sure it can. It’s not a problem. I just wanted to make sure the numbers all add up.” He donned a smile that was every bit as fake as Ransom’s. “That’s my job, after all.”
“Quite.” Ransom glanced pointedly at the papers in front of him. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
As if he’d helped him at all.
“No. That was all.”
Jesse turned and wheeled away, the bothering, nagging feeling heading closer to a bothering, nagging suspicion.
Chapter 9
Mrs Jones answered the door when Jesse knocked. She didn’t need to tell him where Louisa was. He’d heard the laughter from the front gate and knew exactly who was with her.
Mrs Jones disappeared into the kitchen and he wheeled to Louisa’s open bedroom door, stopping outside the doorway where he could watch without being seen. Louisa was sitting on her bed, watching Nancy parade around the room in one of her dresses. Jesse’s sister was swamped in the too big garment and had to lift it high to be able to move, but she was twirling in circles, head held high as if she was a princess at a ball. Her hair was piled on top of her head in an elaborate style held in place by a ribbon and, from what Jesse could tell, some kind of magic. And her face glowed with joy.
Louisa laughed and clapped as she sank into a slightly unsteady curtsy and Nancy bounced up and skipped to join her on the bed.
“When I get older I’m going to have lots of dresses just like this one,” Nancy said, smoothing the skirt over her knees. “Then I’ll be as pretty as you.”
“You’re already far prettier than me.” Louisa touched her fingers to Nancy’s chin and raised her face to look at her. “These big brown eyes and all this beautiful hair and this cute button nose.” She lightly tapped the tip of her nose and Nancy giggled. “You are completely and utterly and absolutely adorable. That’s all there is
to it.”
A sensation Jesse had never felt before rose in his chest as he watched Louisa with his sister, a pure joy that grew and filled his heart until it spilled over and flooded his body with warmth. To his astonishment, he even felt tears prick at the backs of his eyes. What was happening to him?
“Jesse!”
Nancy leaped from the bed and he blinked rapidly and rolled forward into the room as she rushed over to him.
She spun in a circle, the dress brushing his knees. “Do you like it? Louisa let me try on all her dresses. The ones she’s unpacked, at least. And look how she did my hair! Have you ever seen anything so pretty?”
“You look beautiful,” he said, holding out his arms.
She leaned over the arm of his wheelchair to give him a hug and he smiled at Louisa over her shoulder. Her answering smile made his heart skip a beat or three.
“Did you come here straight from school?” he said as Nancy straightened.
She looked down at the dress she was wearing, fidgeting with a lace ruffle. “No, I went home first to ask Ma if I could. She said I could come for an hour before I did my homework.”
“And how long have you been here?”
Her hands stilled on the ruffle and she raised her eyes. “What time is it now?”
He checked his pocket watch. “Twenty-two minutes to five.”
She bit her lip. “Oh.”
“Get changed,” he said, smiling, “and I’ll take you home.”
He withdrew to the kitchen to wait with Mrs Jones and Nancy and Louisa came in five minutes later, Nancy wearing her own clothing. Louisa wore a peach coloured skirt and light green blouse and Jesse placed the two new items of apparel in his ‘Louisa’s Clothes’ mental file. He’d never paid much attention to what women wore until now, but he remembered every single thing Louisa had worn since she arrived. So far his favourite was the cream coloured dress from the previous day, but he was prepared for that to change. In fact, he was looking forward to it. With eight trunks of belongings, she surely had a lot of outfits for him to enjoy.