Under the Midnight Sun

by Tracie Peterson

  Emerson shrugged and put on what he hoped was a confident expression. “Tayler is still pretending that she’s mad at me. You know how women can be. She’s making me work to win her back. It’s a game, nothing more.”

  Pop’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure? Martin Hale told me she was quite wounded by your escapades.” The old man crossed his arms over his chest, his tone condescending. “I’m not surprised either. She’s a smart girl.”

  The barb stung. “I know Tayler better than anyone in the world.” Emerson pasted on a smile. “She’ll come around.”

  “I’m beginning to doubt that.” The look on his father’s face was like steel. “You’re reckless and pay no attention to the rules.” To Emerson, those words were compliments. To Pop, however, it was the worst condemnation. His father moved closer. “We had a deal. You settle down and start playing by my rules and I bail you out . . . again—or I leave you to deal with your own mess. But it looks like you’ve failed.” He turned on his heel and headed out of the room.

  “Pop . . .” Emerson followed the senior Pruitt and tried to figure out how to weasel his way out of this one.

  “Don’t Pop me. You know I despise your lack of respect to begin with.” The man marched into his study and went behind his desk. Pointing to a stack of papers, he narrowed his eyes. “You know what this represents?”

  Emerson eyed the stack and shrugged.

  “This is your legacy, Emerson. Your failures.”

  Another barb meant to wound him and put him in his place.

  “I’m not going to bail you out this time, Emerson. I’ve thrown good money away just trying to help you keep your businesses afloat, but you have no understanding of sensible industry. Good grief, son, you’ve watched me and Martin all these years. We taught you better than this. Showed you how to find businesses to start, or businesses to invest in.” He spread his arms wide. “How do you think all this was built? On my good looks?” Pop shook his head. “I refuse to allow you to throw away any more of my hard-earned money. You’re just going to have to face this mess on your own.”

  Emerson grimaced. The old man was a product of the 1800s and old Victorian views that had no place in the 1920s. Emerson tolerated his father’s rant, knowing that the only hope he had of getting more money was to allow his father the chance to berate him. But as he watched his old man’s face . . . a deep dread built in his gut. This time was different. The look on the old man’s face proved as much. Maybe the March stock upset had made him more cautious than Emerson had understood. That didn’t bode well.

  His father sat down. “We’re done here.”

  “No . . . Pop . . . Father, please. I’m certain I can change Tayler’s mind. I just need this one last chance. Mrs. Hale is behind the union as well—you know that. I just need to apologize and show that I’m sincere. Besides . . . haven’t you always wanted the two fortunes combined? This is the only chance.”

  “Don’t bring me into this, son. We might have wanted you to marry Tayler, but we also wanted you to make good decisions. Something you—”

  “Sweetheart.” Emerson’s mother chose that moment to make her entrance—she must have been listening at the door—and approached Pop’s side. “Let him try. Please? There’s no harm in that. Let him prove he can make good decisions.”

  The old man swiped a hand down his face. “Don’t you think he’s had plenty of time? The only reason he’s gotten serious about marriage is because I gave him an ultimatum.”

  “He’s our son. Our only son.” Mom was always good at sweet-talking. She laid a hand on his arm.

  “I know that, dear.” His father huffed. Time ticked by.

  Emerson felt his hands go clammy. Maybe he had gone too far this time.

  “Fine.” Pop’s word echoed through the room.

  Mom leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll just postpone the engagement party while Emerson fixes all this.” She walked past Emerson and shot an eyebrow up at him.

  He got the hint. She’d come to his rescue, but it was the last time.

  Silence permeated the room after she left.

  Emerson stood there and waited for Pop to speak. He was on the proverbial thin ice, and he knew it.

  When his father stood, he braced himself. The man was gearing up for another lecture.

  Emerson tried not to let his expression show any disrespect, even though he’d prefer just about anything else at the moment.

  After almost a quarter of an hour of Pop chiding him for his poor business practices, the old man crossed his arms again. “This is your last chance. You know how intertwined the Pruitt and Hale holdings are. You also know how much money is at stake here.” Pop narrowed his eyes. “And not just the money that you lost and that I’m sure you owe . . . I’m talking about your future.”

  “What do you mean?” Anger and fear fought each other in Emerson’s stomach. Pop wouldn’t do that? Would he?

  “You know exactly what I mean. I saw it move across your face just now.”

  Emerson swallowed.

  “That’s right. If you don’t marry Tayler Hale, straighten up your act, and stop gambling your life away, I’m cutting you off. Completely.”

  SATURDAY, APRIL 6

  Emerson dressed in his favorite suit. After sequestering himself in his room, he’d finally come up with a plan. A bit devious, but it would work.

  After he visited the Hale home today, he was confident he would have good news to share with Pop. With a quick glance in the mirror, he put on his most convincing smile. How could Mrs. Hale argue with that face? She’d shared her fears the other day before they’d attempted to convince Tayler. It wasn’t so terrible that he’d be playing on those fears today, was it? He didn’t feel a bit guilty.

  Confidence in his step, Emerson headed to the Hale estate.

  Maybe fortune would smile on him today. If he could just see Henrietta without Tayler around, he could put his plan into place. All he needed to do was lie a little.

  When he arrived, the new butler greeted him. “Mr. Pruitt.” The man raised an eyebrow. “Miss Hale is not here.”

  “I’m not here to see Tayler but thank you.” Emerson straightened his jacket. “I’d like to see Mrs. Hale, please.”

  Both eyebrows rose this time. “Of course. She’s with Mr. Dunham at the moment, but you can wait for her in the formal sitting room, and I will let her know that you wish to speak with her.”

  “Thank you.” Little did the man realize that Emerson knew every nook and cranny in this house as if it were his own. As soon as the butler left him, Emerson sneaked around to the study. It couldn’t hurt his cause to eavesdrop on whatever the dandy lawyer had in cahoots with Henrietta. Why was he around all the time anyway? It didn’t make sense.

  The door was closed, but Emerson put his ear to it.

  Mrs. Hale’s voice sounded angry. “. . . if you hadn’t made a mess of things . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Made a mess of what? Was she talking about Tayler? Or about business?

  Dunham’s deeper voice drew Emerson’s attention. “It was your idea to create an alternate will. I simply complied with your wishes. I think we should just move forward with the plans we have.”

  Emerson pressed his ear a bit closer. There was an alternate will? Forged, obviously. It was almost too good to be true. Henrietta went on about Tayler and her tone rose. Dunham hushed her. The great Henrietta Hale had played right into Emerson’s hands. Perfect.

  The conversation in the study was now too quiet for him to hear. Stepping back, he leaned against the wall and thought it through.

  An alternate will. It dumbfounded him. Everyone had been shocked when Joshua was given only a small inheritance rather than control of Hale Industries. Now Emerson knew why. There hadn’t been any falling out between father and son, and certainly no scandalous behavior. Good grief, Emerson knew Joshua to be more of a teetotaler and church do-gooder than most so-called Christians. There’d never been a hint of cheating or ill-advi
sed ventures in Joshua’s business dealings—something that had separated the two best friends years ago. Joshua had always been conservative and Mr. Moral, whereas Emerson had chosen a life that wasn’t.

  Seemed as if Mrs. Hale was more like him. A grin split his face. Hurrying back to the sitting room, he decided to just wait for his turn and bide his time. This new information would help him gain the leverage he was looking for. Now he had an ace up his sleeve.

  Only a few minutes later, the butler arrived for him, and Emerson obediently followed the man to the study.

  “Emerson,” Mrs. Hale crooned, “how lovely to see you.”

  “And you as well. You look lovelier every day.”

  She sent him a smile. “You forget I’ve watched you grow up, Emerson Pruitt. I recognize your smooth-talking ways, and I know you’re up to something.” Sitting across from him in a large wing-back chair, she gestured for him to sit as well. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  Time to play the part. He let his congenial smile fall and furrowed his brow. “I’m afraid I’m here at my father’s insistence. He wishes to dissolve the Hale-Pruitt family holdings. In fact, he wishes to do this immediately, since Tayler has refused to follow through with her commitment.” He looked down for a moment, hoping he conveyed the expression of a devastated fiancé.

  “How dare you come in here and play on my fears, Emerson!” Henrietta Hale stood and narrowed her eyes. “I told you my concern about your father pulling out in confidence just last week when you came to ask for my help in wooing Tayler back. What are you up to?” She closed the distance between them, and it reminded him of the scoldings she used to give him and Joshua when they were little boys and got into mischief.

  Emerson held his hands out in innocence, even though he was far from it. “I had no idea. Truly, I didn’t. Father is quite concerned with the economy and has been advised to dissolve all questionable holdings.” He felt the weight of the blow almost as if he’d thrust a knife in her back.

  “Questionable? There’s nothing questionable about our business practices.” Fire shot out of the older woman’s eyes. “We’ve invested together for years!”

  He wasn’t ready to throw down his trump card. At least not yet. “My father would never dissolve the businesses if Tayler and I were married, but since she has refused, and Joshua isn’t at the helm . . . well, he feels the investments are no longer valuable to him.” Ah, this felt good . . . like he had pushed the blade in to wound her further.

  “Are you saying he doesn’t trust me?” Henrietta put her hands on her hips. “That insufferable man.”

  Emerson tilted his head. “You know my father. He is Mr. Conservative when it comes to money, and while he had complete confidence in Joshua, he’s not quite as sure about a woman running things.” Might as well twist the knife in the wound too.

  Mrs. Hale sputtered and Emerson held up a hand to stop her. “As I’m sure you both realize, this will not work favorably for you in the long run. For instance, if you should choose to buy him out, you will expend most of your liquid assets. To avoid that, my father will insist on selling to whoever will purchase at whatever price can be had. He has no interest in any of your businesses any longer.”

  Dunham’s jaw dropped and he looked at Henrietta.

  Mrs. Hale’s face was pinched with anger. “This is utterly ridiculous. I’m going to go speak with your father right now.”

  As she passed by Emerson’s chair, he reached out and grabbed her arm. “That’s . . . not a good idea.”

  “Unhand me. I will not allow for your father to do this . . . not after all these years.”

  Emerson stood. “Well . . . I’d hate to have to tell him the truth. Or worse yet, tell Joshua the truth. About the will.”

  The color drained from Henrietta’s face. “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. How you cheated your son out of his inheritance and lied to him about his father’s displeasure in him.”

  Mrs. Hale gasped.

  Dunham sat down, shock all over his face.

  They had been found out, and they knew it.

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Emerson lifted his chin. “So you see . . . we really are at an impasse.” He sat back down and looked Henrietta squarely in the eye. “You asked for my help the other day because you wanted Tayler to stop traipsing off to her job. You said you always wanted us to marry. Now you need me to marry her to keep your companies all intact. I need her to marry me for other reasons. So why can’t we work together on this?”

  “Let me get this straight.” Henrietta returned to her chair and smoothed her skirt. “You want my help convincing Tayler to marry you, and you’ll keep our little secret?”

  “Exactly.”

  “She didn’t seem too willing to forgive you.”

  “I have a new plan. And I’m going to put forth every ounce of effort.”

  Later that evening, Emerson strode into his father’s study. “Father.”

  Pop looked up over the glasses on the end of his nose. “Yes?”

  “I’m confident that Tayler and I will be married by the end of the summer.”

  Both of his father’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” He leaned back in his chair and pulled off his spectacles.

  “Additionally, I spoke with Mrs. Hale at length today.”

  “I hope you made more headway with her than I have. Things haven’t been the same since Martin died.” Pop looked interested at least.

  Emerson nodded. “Martin’s death was hard on them all.” He sat down across from Pop. “I need to tell you something in confidence.”

  “All right.”

  “Something you can’t discuss with Mrs. Hale.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, you know that she has always wanted Tayler to marry me—I know we all have.” He tried to give a smile that would convince Pop of his sincerity. “But she also shared that there was some sort of trouble with Joshua, which was the reason Martin entrusted her with the wealth and running of his estate.”

  Pop leaned forward. “Joshua? He’s always been aboveboard in everything. . . . I find that hard to believe. Although Henrietta has been a take-charge woman . . . I admit I assumed she wanted control for a bit longer.” Puzzlement covered his face.

  “They haven’t wanted anyone to know, so you can’t discuss it with her. The problems with Joshua must be recent. But she took me into her confidence today, since she knows that I care for Tayler and for our joint interests.”

  “Since when have you been concerned about our joint interests? And why would she confide in you? All you’ve cared about is wasting your money—”

  “Father. Please. That’s behind me now.” Emerson sat up straighter. “Mrs. Hale and I both want what’s best. I’ve turned over a new leaf, and she has admitted that she’s noticed. Even if you haven’t. She wants to make sure everything is in order for the future. She needs me.”

  Pop laughed. “Oh, I see. . . . So you think that once you and Tayler are wed, Henrietta will just turn over control to you rather than to her son and heir? That doesn’t seem likely.”

  “Like I said, there were problems with Joshua.” It wasn’t the truth, but Joshua had been passed over after planning for years to step into his father’s place at the helm of Hale Industries. Even if it was all concocted. “Look, he was my best friend, and while I hate to admit it . . .” Emerson paused for effect. “He has a drinking problem. His father had to keep him from ruining his businesses. That’s the only reason you know nothing of it.” He hoped his words made Pop feel guilty for threatening to abandon him. “The Hales were hoping to come alongside Joshua in his time of trial.”

  Pop studied him a moment longer and shook his head. “That’s hardly the way to teach someone to change their ways. I know that from experience.”

  Emerson was in no mood for another lecture. “Look, this isn’t about my investments and mistakes, it’s about doing things exactly as you would prefer. I’m going to marry Tayler
and then when Mrs. Hale is ready, I’ll manage everything for her. You can pick out all the businesses you want to sell off, and we’ll be done with that. You can hide in your conservative little cocoon and never take another chance so long as you live, for all I care. I just want to do the right thing by Tayler and our families.”

  Pop shook his head and headed back for the door. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Emerson. My conditions still stand. Good night.”

  Emerson didn’t bother to reply. Pop wouldn’t care anyway. All he cared about was having his way and having an upstanding and honorable son. Well, this time, he wasn’t going to get it. Emerson smiled.

  Crossing the room, he laughed out loud. “Fools.” He poured himself a drink. As conservative as his father was, thankfully he still managed a bit of illegal liquor for “medicinal purposes.” Emerson tossed back the drink and headed to bed.

  No one was going to get the best of him. Not his father nor Mrs. Hale. And especially not Tayler. He’d make sure he was at her house well before the hour she’d leave to catch her train. If he had to, he’d drag her to the nearest judge and see them married.

  3

  WEDNESDAY, MAY 1—CURRY, ALASKA

  Thomas Smith walked through the gleaming hotel lobby of the famous Curry Hotel to the manager’s office behind the front desk.

  It was good to be back. Good, too, to have a college degree in hand. Now he could be a real asset to the Curry’s visitors as he led them on nature hikes and even mountain-climbing expeditions. He’d been a part of the Curry since it opened, but for the first time, he felt confident in what he had to offer. Memories drifted over him—all the years working for the railroad and then Mr. Bradley’s taking pity on him and hiring him on for the new Curry Hotel. He’d gone from a gangly, clumsy kid to part of the Curry family. It made his heart proud.

  Guests already dotted the landscape outdoors and filled the leather chairs in the sitting area, and the tourist season hadn’t even officially started. They might be in the heart of the Alaska Territory, but the Curry Hotel was lush and elegant and drew the wealthy in large numbers.