to quivering jelly. She found herself wishing he would give her an excuse to slap his insolent face. Of all the girls in town, why had Will chosen to fall in love with the pampered only child of a man like Brandon Calhoun?
He took a deep breath, the air rushing into his powerful chest. “Here’s my offer,” he said, pulling a folded paper out of his vest. “Leave town within the week, the two of you, and I’ll pay your way to wherever you want to go. If your brother agrees never to contact Jenny again, I’m prepared to pay for his college education. Every penny of it.”
Harriet stared up at him, shocked into silence by his audacity. The offer was more than generous; it was unimaginable.
She struggled to keep her wits about her, but her head had already begun to spin—as he had doubtless known it would. Over the years she had saved her own money for Will’s education, living like a pauper so that she could send every spare cent to the Denver bank where she kept her savings. By now, she calculated, she had enough to pay for three years of college. Somehow, with Will working summers, they would manage the fourth year.
But if Brandon Calhoun were to pay for Will’s education, the money she had saved would be hers. Dear heaven, she would be able to travel—to England, to Italy, to all the places she’d dreamed of seeing. Or she might even be able to buy her own small house, with space for a garden and no landlord to trouble her for the rent. It would be like a dream come true.
All she needed to do was to strike a bargain with the devil.
He was watching her, his steel-blue eyes wary but confident. Harriet could almost read his thoughts. This sorry spinster, so drab in her worn gingham frock, could not possibly be foolish enough to turn him down. Just like anyone else, the woman had her price. For a few thousand dollars he would be rid of her and her troublesome brother once and for all, with no stain on his own conscience or reputation.
Brandon Calhoun thought he could buy them off, as if they were common trash; as if they were so poor and so devoid of pride that they would take his charity—or bribery, to call it by its real name. She was as anxious to keep Will and Jenny apart as he was, but not at such a price. What a smug, self-righteous prig he was!
The wave of outraged pride that welled up in Harriet almost swept her off her feet. “How dare you?” She flung the words at him. “I am not for sale, Mr. Calhoun, and neither is my brother! I have enough money saved to pay for Will’s education myself. And as for our leaving, I have a two-year contract and twenty-three children who will be without a teacher if I desert them. If you’re so anxious to keep your daughter from associating with common folk like us, you might want to consider leaving town yourself!”
He glowered at her, his face burning as if she had slapped him. Harriet fought the impulse to shrink away from him. Even with her heart pounding and her legs buckling beneath her petticoat, she could not let this man intimidate her.
“Very well,” he said in a flat, cold voice. “I made you a fair and generous offer and you rejected it. All I have left to say is, keep your brother in line for his own good, Miss Smith. If he so much as speaks to my daughter, I’ll have the law on him!”
With those words, Brandon Calhoun turned on his heel and stalked out of the schoolroom.
Harriet stood rooted to the floor, gazing after him as he disappeared down the path in a swirl of fallen leaves. Her hands were shaking and the inside of her mouth felt as if she’d swallowed a fistful of dry sawdust.
Stumbling backward, she collapsed onto the cramped seat of a first-grade desk. Outside, the sun was sinking below the peaks. Its fading light cast dingy shadows on the schoolroom walls. The breeze that blew in through the open doorway had turned bitter. Harriet wrapped her arms around her trembling body, too stunned to even get up and close the door.
Had she done the right thing? Heaven help her, should she have swallowed her pride and accepted Brandon Calhoun’s offer?
Her spirit sank deeper as a gust of wind rattled the trees, ripping leaves off the branches and scattering the math papers on her desk. Maybe she should have put the banker off, told him she’d think on the matter and let him know. At least she should have spoken with her brother before making such a rash decision—but no, that would have changed nothing. Will was head over heels in love with the banker’s pretty, shy daughter. Young as he was, he had his own share of family pride. His answer would have been the same as hers.
Now what? How could she keep her brother from pursuing Jenny Calhoun—especially when Jenny seemed as eager as he was?
Harriet’s head throbbed at the thought of what lay ahead. Brandon had spoken truly about one thing. Will was eighteen years old, practically a man, and the only control she had over him was what little he allowed her. Her only hope was that her headstrong brother could be made to listen to reason.
Keep your brother in line for his own good, Miss Smith. If he so much as speaks to my daughter, I’ll have the law on him!
The words rang in Harriet’s ears as she staggered to her feet, shoved the door closed and bent to gather her wind-scattered papers. Could Brandon Calhoun really put her brother in jail? There was no law, surely, against two young people falling in love, but as the most influential man in town, the arrogant banker had the means to accomplish anything he wanted.
Would he carry out his threat, or worse? Either way it was a chance Harriet could ill afford to take. She had no means of knowing what lay in the darkness of Brandon’s heart. The only certainty was that she had made a very dangerous enemy.
Chapter Two
All the way home Harriet struggled with the question of what to tell her brother. Given the power, she would have chosen to wipe out the shattering encounter with Brandon Calhoun, the way she might erase a child’s botched arithmetic problem from the blackboard. That way, Will would never know what she had thrown away out of pride; nor would she need to make it clear that she was still dead set against his courtship of Jenny.
But that kind of denial was useless. One way or another, Will was bound to ferret out the truth. It was best that he hear it from her.
The wind plucked at her thin skirts, raising gooseflesh on her legs as she passed along the weathered picket fence that ringed the cemetery. Blowing leaves danced among the tombstones like ghostly spirits in the twilight.
Harriet pulled her thin wool shawl tighter around her shoulders. She’d been told that winters were long and harsh in this high mountain valley, but she had comforted herself with the thought that Will would be with her through the cold months to shovel the paths, chop wood for the stove and provide companionship on dark, snowbound evenings. Now she found herself wondering if it might not be best to send him to Indiana before the storms set in. He wouldn’t be able to start college until spring term, but maybe he could find work and a place to board until then. It would be a dear price to pay, for she truly wanted his presence over the winter. But at least he would be far away from Jenny Calhoun and her fire-breathing dragon of a father!
Harriet’s resolve began to crumble as she opened the door of the unpainted clapboard house and stepped over the threshold into its dusky interior. The place would be so lonely without Will. Worse, he was only eighteen, little more than a boy! And they had no relatives anywhere who might take him in. Sending him away to school was one thing, but simply putting him on the train was quite another. If he left now, he would be entirely on his own, easy prey for any opportunist who happened along! Merciful heaven, how could she just turn him out into the world, so innocent
