For Such a Time as This: A Women of Hope Novel

by Ginny Aiken

  Nerves made her stomach tighten, and she turned to silent prayer.

  She didn’t see an opportunity where she could ask. So she spent the rest of the time telling herself that suspecting Eli of such a thing was foolish. That Eli was the man who played with his son’s train set, who helped his wife with frivolous decorations for an upcoming party, the man who teased her and held her and kissed her senseless. The rest of the evening flew by in a pleasant blur.

  When the stately, tall case clock in the entrance chimed eleven times, Olivia’s nervousness returned. How was she going to say good night to him? How were they going to part after that spectacular kiss? After his outrageous statement afterward?

  In the end, Eli took over. He reached for her hand, and they went up the stairs together. At the landing, he turned, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her again.

  This kiss told Olivia, in no uncertain terms, that her husband, the man who’d captured her heart, was staking his claim. His passion left no doubt about his desire for her. He wanted her. For more than a convenient solution to a household problem.

  He wanted a wife—his wife.

  He wanted her.

  When his lips lifted a fraction from hers, she sighed, a smile widening her mouth. He kissed her again. And again.

  Then, without any warning, he swept her off her feet. He grunted from the strain on his chest.

  “Eli, have you lost your mind?”

  “It’s not my mind I’ve lost.” He strode down the short upstairs hall. “It’s my sanity. And my heart.”

  He kicked open his bedroom door, shoved it closed behind them, and then placed her on his bed. Her wedding night had finally arrived. Months after the ceremony.

  That night, she and Eli became husband and wife.

  In every way.

  Chapter 20

  On Monday, Olivia floated down the stairs and sailed through her regular routine on a cloud of happiness. Her heartbeat sped like a galloping pony each time she saw Eli. Her skin sizzled every time they grazed each other as they crossed paths, and her breath hitched each time he looked her in the eye, smiled, then gave her a private wink.

  Each shiver of joy left her anticipating their next meeting, their next conversation, and their next kiss. She caught herself more than once about to start spinning happy circles like a little girl, celebrating the fresh, new love she couldn’t quite contain.

  Not that she wanted to contain it.

  Tuesday’s only change was ever greater joy.

  Wednesday, still more.

  Olivia wondered if married life would keep getting better, if it could possibly bring her more contentment and delight. She didn’t think so, and she thanked the Father for blessing her with a husband like Eli. She thanked Him for the wonder she’d found in the clear affection Eli showed her in his caresses, in their conversations that lasted into the wee hours of the night, her head on his shoulder, his arms secure around her, in their sweet but brief honeymoon. She prayed for it to never end.

  Eli whistled as he walked to work on Monday. Although it had dawned a chilly, windy December morning, the glowing love in his heart held the outside cold at bay. He never could have imagined this turn of events. Still, he wouldn’t say falling in love with his wife was anything but wonderful. Olivia… well, she had been the most delightful, unexpected surprise from the first day they met.

  Now? A man couldn’t ask for more.

  As he loped up the bank steps, he realized he was happy—happier than he’d been in years.

  He prayed it lasted for the rest of his life.

  He also prayed her large family would continue to conduct themselves in the manner in which they had so far. While the Moores had been nothing but charming the times they’d met, Eli couldn’t shake his concern.

  He prayed for the Father’s protection. Not only had he suffered from Victoria’s treachery, but his children had also been deeply hurt by their mother’s selfish, criminal actions. This time, he prayed the Lord would bless them with the peace, love, and joy all the Father’s children were meant to have in their lives.

  For his children’s sake.

  And for the sake of his mending heart.

  Olivia had come to mean the world to him. He much preferred to look forward to the joys he hoped to live through in the years to come with her at his side.

  He was a man in love.

  Later that morning, Eli called Holtwood and Colby into his office. “So tell me. What have you found? Any update on properties we might purchase for the bank? The railroad’s plans for the spur line are moving along quite speedily.”

  Colby reached for the nearest armchair and, when he tried to drag it closer to Eli’s desk, it caught on the edge of the rug. As he moved to lift it over, the papers and ledgers he’d carried in slipped from his grasp. When he tried to catch them, the pencil he’d tucked behind his ear flew off and rolled across the polished wooden floor.

  Eli glanced at Holtwood, who sat in the other chair in front of Eli’s desk, his fingers laced together. Eli had rarely known two more different men, and yet, both were still excellent employees.

  In his newfound serenity, Eli felt more inclined toward indulgence for his nervous-Nellie cashier than he otherwise would, just as he found more patience for his reserved and somewhat distant right-hand man. He donned a smile and waited for Colby to gather his belongings and settle down in his chair.

  After an awkward hunt on hands and knees for his pencil, which Colby found had rolled under the corner of Eli’s desk, he finally took his seat.

  Holtwood watched the whole episode with no particular expression.

  “Oh, dear me, sir,” Colby said. “I’m so sorry.” He jabbed his spectacles up to the bridge of his nose as usual, and in the process made the ever-present ink smudge a shade darker. At Eli’s shrug, he went on. “Yes, well,” he cleared his throat, “we have taken the liberty to look into some areas that would seem the most suitable for a superb railroad track. I’ve now flagged them on the new map we received of Hope County.”

  “Splendid!” Eli held out a hand, but Colby only stared at it. Eli waited, then said, “Could I see the map, please?”

  For a moment, Eli feared his anxious assistant would bolt up and out of the office. But Colby just blinked, one… two… three more times. He gave Eli a jerky bob of the head before he sat up straight, wound even tighter than before.

  “I left it on Colby’s desk,” Holtwood said.

  Colby cleared his throat. “Indeed, Mr. Whitman, sir. I’ll be certain to bring it to you once we’ve closed up the banking lobby and counted the cash at our windows this afternoon.”

  Eli gestured at the sheets of paper the cashier had dropped all over the floor. “It’s not one of those?”

  “No, sir, regretfully. I thought I should update you on the prices I’ve been privileged to discuss so far with a number of the property owners before I showed you the map. I mean… begging pardon, of course—if you do not consider those sums agreeable, why, I would search elsewhere for the bank’s sake. I do know, however, that as profitable as the sums under consideration might be, we can do better still, Mr. Whitman.”

  “Better?”

  “We’ve had opportunity to meet with some of the farmers,” Holtwood offered, his voice calm, his expression cool and unruffled. “I had Colby and Parham work on these lists for you.”

  “You got this far?” Eli asked. “Just from a handful of letters?”

  Holtwood nodded. “The letters opened up the conversation, and landowners are anxious about their future.”

  Colby’s red hair quivered as he nodded in earnest. “Indeed, Mr. Whitman. It was a matter of diligent investigation. You see, I learned during my inquiries that many of these lands are those of property owners on the brink of selling out. They need the cash we could pay them. It—” He gestured broadly and his spectacles slid down his nose again. He shoved them back up. “So sorry, Mr. Whitman. It’s just a matter of… ah… uhm—working… er… them.” He w
inced and shook his head—“working with them.”

  Eli rubbed the spot on his right temple where a headache had begun to take root. By now, Colby’s flustered conversation and mannerisms had become tiring. If only he weren’t so efficient in his work and always reliable. At least, usually.

  “I can see how much you and Holtwood have done about all this already. Good. I suppose we’ll be best served if we wait until later so you can show me what you have. Don’t forget. The men from the railroad will arrive here in little less than a week and a half.”

  The warning only served to make Colby even more jittery. His eyes burst into a blinking storm. The stack of papers slithered off his lap. He caught it, but as he looked down, the pencil fell out from behind his ear again. Eli called upon all his patience not to suggest the man keep his pencil elsewhere. He did not want to make his cashier’s jumpiness any worse.

  Holtwood stood and headed for the office door. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Why don’t you both go ahead and tend to the customers in the lobby? I’ll see you back here later.”

  Holtwood dipped his head. “Thank you, sir.”

  More of the usual squirrelly crawling over the floor ensued until Colby had retrieved all his belongings. He then nodded toward Eli and left the office, closing the door as he went.

  When his cashiers walked out, Eli breathed a prayer for the men. He hoped the Father had a lovely lady in store for each man’s future. It would do them a world of good, would probably bring them the peace and comfort that would begin to ease one’s fretfulness and the other’s aloofness. The joy Eli had found with Olivia was something everyone should experience.

  A smile curved his lips, and he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest. Closing time wouldn’t come soon enough for him.

  As the sun outside Eli’s office window began to set, a knock came at the door. “Come in, come in!”

  This time, Colby carried only a small map and a pen. As always, he wore the frameless—and hapless—spectacles. Eli hoped his cashier had settled down since their earlier meeting, certainly now that the work day had come to a close.

  “Let’s see,” he said. “Spread out the map here on my desk, and you can show us what you have.”

  Colby tucked his pen behind his ear, streaking ink across his temple to match the smear on the side of his nose. He spread the map on the desk, knocking a ledger over the edge.

  “So sorry, sir.”

  Eli waved away the apology. “Go on, Colby. Show me what you have.”

  “Of course, of course, Mr. Whitman.” He tapped four of the red marks, marks that drew a rough line through the area. “These are the ones I believe we can pick up the fastest—and as excellent bargains.”

  Studying the indicated properties, Eli couldn’t quite make sense of what his assistant saw in those particular tracts. “I don’t understand. They’re not even next to each other. How do you reckon the railroad can use them?”

  Colby shook his head, a finger on his glasses. “No, no, sir. These are just the beginning. We start here, since these are the folks who most need the money. Then we move on to negotiate the adjacent properties, sir.”

  Eli turned to the map again. If he wasn’t much mistaken, one of the properties belonged to the Roberts family. The last thing he’d heard, Hugh Roberts had been forced to sell off some, if not all, their sheep, after losing most of their crops the last two years.

  But if Eli remembered correctly, they had mortgaged the property so the funds would see them through the coming winter. The family was looking forward to a fresh start in the spring, and paying back the balance on their loan in as short a time as possible.

  He scratched his chin. “Are you sure they’re looking to sell, Colby? I was under the impression that Hugh wanted to work the land with his five boys, to leave them a legacy. I don’t understand.”

  Colby shrugged. “I wouldn’t know for certain, sir. Folks do change their minds. I suppose that might be the case with the Roberts. I just know what I told you.”

  Eli studied the map some more, unease tightening his stomach. Something didn’t quite sit right with him. Then another detail caught his attention. “I do know some of these farms and ranches have gone through tough times, but the others? Those unmarked spreads mixed in among the ones with the red marks? I can’t imagine any of these men would be willing to sell their land. Not for any sum.”

  Holtwood walked in. “Not yet, I’m sure. If some of their neighbors, who’ve faced the same disasters, consider selling, it’s likely they’ll do the same once they see others freed from financial fear.”

  “Yes, yes,” Colby said. “A—and…” He snapped his spectacles off as they started to slip and used the bits of wire and glass to gesture. “We haven’t yet begun to tell them how they’ll benefit from selling out.”

  “I’m not sure I see how they’ll benefit at all. Not from leaving their homes with nothing but a pile of cash in their pockets.”

  “Cash goes a long way, Mr. Whitman,” Holtwood offered.

  “Always has, always does,” Colby agreed.

  “Not if a man has children to raise.”

  “Oh,” Colby said. “Well. I suppose there is that.”

  “Tell you what,” Eli said. “What if we look at an unmarked map first? Then perhaps we can identify a logical route for the railroad folks to lay the tracks. Only after we figure that out should we look into the property owners’ financial circumstances. I can’t see how I can do anything that might take advantage of our neighbors.”

  “Of course, sir.” The head cashier folded up the map.

  With pen and his spectacles clutched in his fists, Colby headed for the office door. “Whatever you say, Mr. Whitman. You’re the boss!”

  Sometimes Holtwood got ahead of himself in his efforts to please Eli. As did Colby. It was something he would have to discuss with them at some point in the near future. But it wouldn’t be that night. That night he had a terrific family waiting for him, and a beautiful new wife he couldn’t wait to see again.

  Time to pack up and head on home.

  Eli locked up his desk and pocketed the key. He donned hat, coat, and wool muffler, then, whistling again, strode into the banking lobby. As he approached the door, however, he heard the unmistakable sound of an escalating argument. To his surprise, and unless he was much mistaken, Parham, the new secretary, was one of the men involved.

  No, it was not a surprise. It was a shock! Eli never would have thought Parham capable of such behavior.

  He hurried to the front door. “What is the problem here, gentlemen?”

  Startled, Parham nearly stumbled off the stairs. He clutched the banister to right himself on the landing.

  Down on the sidewalk, Wilbur Ruskin spun and glared. “Of all men, Whitman, you should know—”

  “It’s fine, Mr. Whitman,” Parham said. “I’ve spoken with Mr. Ruskin, and I’m sure either Mr. Holtwood or Mr. Colby—or I—can take care of the matter. No need for you to give it another thought, not this soon after your injury…”

  The farmer glared again, then, as he muttered under his breath, he stomped off. Before he got too far, he paused. “You better do that, young man,” he snarled. “I’m holding you to your word.”

  Out of the corner of an eye, Eli saw Parham swallow hard. “Let’s talk again in the morning, shall we, Mr. Ruskin? We’ll resolve this then.”

  “Don’t fret another minute, Wil,” Eli told the angry man who’d resumed his stomping pace. “My men will take good care of you. They’re good men, decent, hardworking, and trustworthy. If Parham says they’ll handle the matter, well then, I’m satisfied they will.”

  Ruskin kept on going, but before he got too far, he gave a dismissive wave then spat out a scoffing “Bah!”

  Eli felt the urge to go after his customer, but he knew this wasn’t the right time. Wil Ruskin needed to calm his temper. Besides, if Parham assured him he would handle Ruskin’s problems, he felt his new secreta
ry would do just that. If not him, then either Holtwood or Colby would. Eli’s father had taught him the importance of leadership and delegating responsibility. He had said he’d learned the hard way he could not effectively manage every detail himself as the bank grew. With the railroad representatives due to arrive so soon, time was even more of a luxury for all of them.

  “Whatever happens tomorrow, Parham, please see that you consider every possible option to help Wilbur settle the situation to his best advantage. We always aim to satisfy our customers as best we can.”

  “Of course, sir. We’ll offer him every alternative available to us. No need to waste another thought on the matter at this present moment.” He sent Eli a quick flash of teeth, something he assumed the man meant as a smile. “I’m sure you don’t want to be late getting home to your family.”

  Eli’s earlier calm returned. “You’re right about that. I must tell you, Parham. Family life is a joy. Especially when a man is blessed with a good woman at his side. I’m sure you’ll see what I mean when you find a wife and settle down with her.”

  For a moment, a twinge of longing crossed the secretary’s face, but it was gone just as quickly. “I suspect you’re right, Mr. Whitman. Haven’t found the right lady so far. I mean to keep on looking.”

  “You do that. Now, I’m going to take you up on your suggestion. I’m going home to Mrs. Whitman, our youngsters, and Cooky’s supper. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Bright and early.”

  As was his habit, Eli locked up. Although he and Parham had decided on the plan of action with regard to Ruskin, something still didn’t sit right with him. But no matter how many ways he turned the facts over in his mind, he couldn’t put a finger on it. Still, he was sensible enough to realize he wouldn’t do anyone any good by fretting about things. He’d have to remember to ask Holtwood about Ruskin’s specific circumstances in the morning. Surely they would come up with a solution that satisfied everyone.

  Feeling somewhat better, he accelerated his pace. He couldn’t wait to be back with his family.