Scars of the Heart (26 page)

Placing a hand over Carly’s smaller ones, Kade stilled her fidgeting. After a hearty and delicious meal, the pair had arrived at the bank just as the doors were being unlocked. They’d asked to speak with the bank manager and were now seated in his office on comfortably padded high-backed chairs. A large mahogany desk anchored a handsome rug dyed in rich blues and golds. A moment later, a well-dressed gentleman in his early sixties entered the room, and the pair rose for proper introductions. The banker directed his greeting toward Kade.

“I am Nicodemus Hawthorne. I’m told you wanted to speak with me regarding something of a personal nature.”

Kade shook the outstretched hand. “I’m John Smith. This is Miss Carly Dawson of Virginia. It’s Miss Dawson who has business with you today.” He hoped she didn’t notice the way the banker took measure of her, gauging her worth by her dressing and demeanor. Kade held the back of her chair as she settled once again into one of the seats before Mr. Hawthorne’s massive desk.

With a nod and smile that didn’t quite reach his pale blue eyes, the banker took his position in his own chair, fixing his gaze on Carly, apparently eager for her to get right to the matter at hand.

She cleared her throat. “Thank you for seeing us so promptly, Mr. Hawthorne. I’ve come in response to your recent telegram regarding the passing of my aunt, Ruth Berringer.”

“Ah yes, dear Ruth. Everyone loved Ruth.”

Kade noticed the banker’s small smile did reach his eyes this time. They twinkled for the briefest moment behind his wire-framed spectacles. He leaned forward, resting his arms on this desk, lacing his fingers.

“What can I help you with, Miss Dawson?”

“Well, as I am Aunt Ruth’s only living kin, I’ve come to settle her affairs. Your telegram mentioned an estate.”

The word hung in the air, and Kade noticed Carly held her breath as she waited for Mr. Hawthorne’s response.

“Ah yes, very good.” Reaching into a drawer on the side of his desk, he extracted a ledger book, flipped it open and leafed to the page he sought. With a pointed finger, he tapped a neatly scrawled number in a column of many and continued. “Yes, indeed, Ruth Berringer, right here. One hundred and twenty dollars.”

Kade waited for Carly’s reaction. He had no idea how much she’d hoped for, but that amount would surely get her home to Virginia. His companion shifted her gaze from the banker to Kade, then back.

“Very well then. Are there papers you need me to sign? Will I be able to collect the money today?” She waited expectantly.

Mr. Hawthorne’s thin gray brows drew together, and he blinked several times before he delivered a measured clarification. “You seem to misunderstand, my dear. Ruth Berringer did not have one hundred and twenty dollars in this bank. Your aunt died
owing
one hundred and twenty dollars to this bank. I hope you are here to settle that debt.”

“Your uncle had requested the sum as a loan not long before his unexpected passing. Your aunt had no way of repaying the debt on her own.” Mr. Hawthorne paused as Carly absorbed the news.  “In addition, the Berringer mortgage loan has not been paid in full.  It’s now several months in arrears, due to Ruth’s passing.”

Kade noticed only a slight droop to her shoulders. He couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of pride in how well she handled the blow of such devastating news. The hope of returning to her precious Virginia had kept Carly driven and strong.

“I don’t know what to say, Mr. Hawthorne. I had no idea. I had merely assumed that my aunt and uncle had done well for themselves, and . . . that . . .” Her fingers once again fidgeted in her lap.

“That is unfortunate, Miss Dawson, but I’m afraid the situation is indeed a bit worse. The debt to the bank is not the only debt your aunt left behind. I do believe you’ll find that she has delinquent accounts at the mercantile and at the dairy.” Mr. Hawthorne removed his glasses and pulled a white linen handkerchief from his breast pocket before continuing.

“If you’re unable to settle these debts yourself, the bank will have to take possession of the Berringer house and its belongings to offer at auction.” Each spectacle lens was rubbed clean and polished to perfection. With the glasses now back in place, the banker waited for Carly’s response.

Kade noted the slight quiver to her chin as she drew in a shaky breath. He stood deliberately, helping Carly to her feet. “Miss Dawson will consider the situation and her options. We’ll let you know of her decision before nightfall tomorrow. Thank you for your time, Mr. Hawthorne.”

With a quick handshake, Kade turned and led Carly through the crowded lobby. He had one arm around her small, narrow waist and could feel the ragged, shallow breaths that warned of threatening tears. He maneuvered her through the busy town square to a quieter corner that offered a wooden bench positioned in the shade of a mighty live oak. As they sat, plump tears spilled from caramel-colored lashes to course down Carly’s cheeks. She stared at the ground without saying a word, and Kade decided to let her finish considering the disappointing news.

After a moment, she looked at her companion. “I never dreamed . . . There is no money, Kade. What ever will I do now? Not only do I not have the funds with which to return to Virginia, I now need money to settle my aunt’s affairs and pay her debts.” Carly shook her head and searched his steady gaze for an answer.

Kade folded her trembling hands in his own. “Carly, you don’t have to repay your aunt’s debt. As Mr. Hawthorne mentioned, the bank will sell the house and its contents to pay those debts. Perhaps there is something of value in the house that you can sell or trade for passage back to Virginia.”

Again she shook her head. The tears had stopped, and Kade could almost hear the fast pace of her mind as it worked to formulate a plan.

“Perhaps,” she said without any amount of hope or conviction. Pulling her hands free of his, Carly stood and began pacing the grassy area in front of the bench. “There is that possibility, but the obvious truth is if Aunt Ruth had anything of value to sell, she probably would’ve done so to take care of her obligations. And I can’t ignore those debts. That’s just not the right thing to do, not what Papa would’ve wanted me to do.”

A deep breath ended in a shaky exhale but left behind a resolve that Kade noticed in the squaring of the shoulders, the set of the jaw, the fire in the eyes. Carly stopped pacing and turned her determined green gaze on him.

“I must determine the exact amount of Aunt Ruth’s debt. I must go to her home and take account of what’s there. I must decide on a course of action and be prepared to meet with Banker Hawthorne tomorrow.”

Kade drew a deep breath of his own. “And if the value of the house and any other belongings isn’t enough to pay the loans, settle the debt and return you to Virginia?”

Carly’s gaze never wavered. A full minute passed before she answered the question he asked, the question that clawed at the thin cloak of hope she tried to wrap herself in. “Then I live in Aunt Ruth’s house, I find employment, I work to pay her debt, and save money for transportation. And perhaps, God Almighty willing, I will return, someday, to my beloved home in the Shenandoah Valley.”

Two hours later, the pair walked slowly through the clean, simple home of Ruth Berringer. After several inquiries, they’d learned that Nicodemus had been correct. Ruth had open accounts at the mercantile and the dairy, as well as an account to settle with the town’s doctor. At each stop, Carly received the same heartfelt condolences, the same affirmation of affection for her aunt, and the same bad news. Ruth died owing them money.

Carly also discovered that Aunt Ruth did not live alone. She’d taken in a couple of boarders, a war widow and her spinster sister. The ladies shared the larger of the two bedrooms in the home, the one intended for the home’s owners. Ruth slept on a small cot in an area just off the kitchen. Carly assumed the women paid her aunt a certain sum for room and board. Perhaps they paid enough to cover the actual mortgage payment itself. Carly and Kade had learned of the arrangement from the shopkeeper and had also been told that the sisters were currently staying at a nearby farm. Seemed the farmer’s wife was having a very difficult time of it with her seventh pregnancy. The widow and spinster had gone to care for the house and six small children since the expectant mother had been confined to her bed.

Kade stowed a box he’d taken from a closet. It had offered nothing of value, only a quilt carefully wrapped in brown paper, a strand of hair tied with a yellow ribbon, and a handful of old maps; undoubtedly keepsakes from her husband’s professional days. Treasures for sure but only of an emotional nature.

With a heavy sigh, Carly lowered herself to a threadbare, tufted settee in the parlor and smoothed a delicate crocheted doily that decorated one of the armrests. She looked around the small but welcoming room and tried to imagine her aunt and uncle here. Although she’d barely known them, they were her family. She hoped they’d been happy here, that this home had been filled with laughter and their years together with love.

She turned to face Kade. “Well, that’s it then. No money. Nothing to sell. No travel in my immediate future.” Carly managed a weak smile. “I’ll go meet with Mr. Hawthorne in the morning. Perhaps he can even suggest some possible employers for me.”

“I’m truly sorry, Carly. I know you were counting on this being your way back to Virginia.”

Again she attempted a smile. “To be honest, I don’t even know if my home is still standing. Papa sold it before we left. Even though I hoped to eventually buy it back, Virginia took quite a beating during the war, or so I hear. Many battles were fought in the Shenandoah Valley. For all I know, there is no home to go back to. It’s a different world that I live in as an adult, not the sweet carefree world of my youth. I need not cling so tightly to frivolous, girlish notions. I shall inquire about town as to the state of things in that area. Perhaps one of the soldiers will have some information. But in the meantime, I simply won’t live like a silly girl with a slice of wedding cake beneath her bed pillow. Empty dreaming will get me nowhere. I have a plan, and that is what I must focus on.” Carly stood and smoothed the wrinkles from the skirt of her simple cotton frock.

When she looked up at Kade, the intensity of his gaze threatened to unravel the tenuous grip she had on her composure. His deep-brown eyes held her captive, and hinted of something there she’d not seen before, something she couldn’t quite identify. Concern, pride, compassion? Inwardly Carly shook herself, hard, though outwardly she could not shake the connection they shared at this moment.

Whatever his feelings portrayed had nothing to do with any of those things. Kade would have to care for her to feel any of those things, and he did not. She simply represented a mistake he’d made along the journey to his ranch in Texas, a mistake that was born of an impulsive action that produced a promise, a promise that some shred of integrity within him insisted he fulfill.

Carly realized what she saw in Kade’s eyes. What she had momentarily mistaken for emotion was just a softness, genuine or orchestrated, as a prelude to
Got my own troubles; you’re on your own. Brought you to Marshall like I said I would, now good-bye.

“Carly, I, uh—” Kade took a step toward her.

“I know, I know.” She raised a hand, her palm serving as an effective barrier between them. “You have pressing matters that require your attention. I completely understand, and I owe you a huge debt of gratitude. Thank you for honoring your promise to me. Thank you for rescuing me from Tiny and bringing me to Marshall. I shudder to even consider what my life would be like right now had you not intervened. I’ve certainly caused you enough aggravation and wasted time, and I agree that it’s time we part ways. I wish you well, Kade Roberts.”

She offered her hand and hoped her countenance portrayed confidence and sincerity. After a moment’s hesitation, and more unnamable emotions crossing those chocolate pools to Kade’s soul, the stoic man accepted the handshake. With a nod, he turned and left, never looking back.

After rushing to the window, she carefully peered through the thin curtains as he strode down the steps of the porch and across the street. Within moments, he had moved out of view, and Carly realized she’d been holding her breath. With a shaky exhale, she turned her back to the wall, slid to the floor, hugged her knees to her chest, and cried. She cried tears for her dead parents, for her war-ravaged Virginia, for the aunt and uncle she barely knew. And Carly cried for Kade—a stranger, a murderer, her rescuer, her friend, a savage, a mystery. She cried for the man she wanted him to be and for the man he truly was. Carly cried until she had nothing left to offer, until the sobs that shook her frail form subsided, and then she crawled to the settee, curled into a tight little ball, and willingly slid down the deep, dark hole of dreamless sleep.

“Miss Dawson, nice to see you.” Nicodemus Hawthorne stood as Carly entered his office. “Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

She declined and waited quietly as the banker poured himself a cup, adding ample amounts of both cream and honey. Having been awake for several hours already, Carly had enjoyed her tea on Aunt Ruth’s porch, watching the morning sun greet the day with marvelous waves of pink, orange, and butter yellow. She felt well rested and resigned to her fate, a fate far better than she once thought it might be, she constantly reminded herself. She was safe; she was strong and smart. She had a roof over her head and the ability to provide for herself. Things could certainly be worse . . . and had been. As the banker sat at his desk, Carly squared her shoulders and opened her mouth to speak. But Nicodemus started first.

“I do so appreciate your sense of integrity, Miss Dawson, your desire to settle the Berringer estate appropriately, paying your aunt and uncle’s debt, thereby clearing their good name and your conscience. I understand there was also a deficient account with Dr. Hargrove that I had been unaware of. I’m sure you are quite relieved that your existing funds cleared the majority of the debt, and I remain hopeful that the proceeds from the sale of the Berringers’ house will cover the mortgage loan and note here at the bank.”