Heather's Choice

by Shirleen Davies

  Like the two managers before him, Philip had been handpicked by Delacroix for the job in Conviction. He’d risen through the ranks in the main office in San Francisco, starting as a clerk, becoming a secretary before being promoted to reviewing loan requests. Over time, he’d become an assistant manager. All the while, Giles had followed his progress, spending considerable time with Philip outside of work. During this time, Giles discovered something about the man he could use to turn him from an idealist into someone of true worth.

  Holding up a hand, Giles shook his head. “There’s no cause for an apology, Philip. It means you must be busy.”

  “More than I imagined when you gave me this assignment.”

  Giles threw back his head and laughed. “I know you weren’t pleased with the news you’d be moving away from San Francisco. You’d always seen your future in the city, not in some dirt town with few of the amenities you’d grown accustomed to.”

  Shrugging, Philip relaxed in his chair. “It’s an opportunity I was happy to accept, Mr. Delacroix.”

  “Yes, I know. Few men at the bank are offered the chance to grow their experience outside of the confines of those walls. You, though, are special.”

  Philip’s brows furrowed as he tilted his head. “No more special than any of the others.”

  “I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we?” Giles’ mouth twisted into a knowing grin. “In any case, I’m here to discuss how we grow the bank’s business.”

  Sitting forward, Philip rested his arms on the desk. “It’s doubtful that will be a problem, sir. The town is growing rapidly, faster than I anticipated. We’re opening accounts at an incredible rate.” He opened a ledger to a certain page before sliding it across the desk to Giles. “These are the new accounts in the last month.”

  Taking the book, Giles studied the information. Flipping the pages, he looked at the accounts before Philip arrived, comparing the data. Closing the ledger, he pushed it back across the desk.

  “Excellent work.”

  Philip didn’t disguise his pleasure at the compliment. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I would like to point out something, though.”

  The smile on Philip’s face fell away. “What would that be?”

  “The number of new accounts is good. Quantity is always good. The amounts, however, need to be higher. The bank wants to attract people with more income and more need for our services. Those are the accounts that make us money.”

  Philip opened the ledger, studying the columns, understanding what Giles was telling him. “What do you suggest?”

  “We need to go after businesses, land owners, and ranchers. Those are the people who are behind the growth.”

  Rubbing his brow, Philip’s forehead creased. “The Bank of Conviction has control of those customers. I’ve visited some of them. They’re friends of the men on the bank’s board, do business with them, depend on the association. I’m not sure how successful we’ll be at getting them to change.”

  Crossing his arms, Giles smirked. “We will have to come up with a plan. And I have a few ideas.”

  Circle M

  “We need to be turning the herd north, Heather. Move them up through the valley.” Quinn reined his horse to his left, heading off a few head that refused to stay in the group, then turned back to his sister. “Be more aggressive when they move away, lass, or this will take all day.” He kicked his horse into a gallop, riding forward.

  Heather pulled the bandana over her face, doing her best to breathe, while mentally cursing her cousin. Colin had told her to ride drag, pushing the herd from the back. It meant eating dust all day—swallowing it, breathing it, and feeling it filter through her clothes. Even a bath couldn’t wash it all away. The grit would last for days.

  Her younger brother, Bram, and cousin, Fletcher, took the left and right flank positions, closer to the back of the herd. Cousins Camden and Sean rode left and right swing near the front. Colin and Quinn took point, guiding the herd. They didn’t need a trail boss for the short trip of moving a few hundred head less than five miles.

  Heather knew they’d change positions on the next drive. She also knew they weren’t treating her unfairly, and that mattered to her. None of the men made exceptions for her.

  “You all right, lass?”

  She glanced to her side, peering over the top of the bandana. “Aye, Bram.”

  “Take my spot on left flank. I’ll ride back here.”

  Heather shook her head. “Nae. I’ll not be taking your place. Your turn riding drag will come soon enough.” She heard Bram’s muffled laugh through his bandana.

  “Did Colin let you know you’ll be with Fletcher and me, sleeping with the herd tonight?”

  His voice was muffled, but not enough for her to mistake his words.

  “And why would we be sleeping with the herd?”

  “A few head are missing and we’ve not been able to find them. Colin wants to make certain we’ve no rustlers picking off the herd.”

  Heather nodded, feeling a trickle of excitement. No matter how much she’d begged or pleaded, her father had never let her stay with the herd all night. He’d never allowed her on a drive, either. After his death, Quinn and her cousins continued her father’s wishes. It appeared things were beginning to change.

  She knew Bram couldn’t see it, but a smile crossed her face. “Then I’m hoping someone brought enough hardtack and jerky for supper.”

  Bram laughed. “You may have to wrestle us for it, lass.” Waving, he rode off, leaving her to enjoy the way her life seemed to be changing—mostly for the better.

  Chapter Six

  A Cabin Miles North of Conviction

  “Don’t misunderstand, boss. I can get the men you want. There are more than you’d think, ready to do whatever is needed for cash. But I need to know what you want them to do.”

  Giles sat inside the cabin, cradling a surprisingly good cup of coffee, studying the man sitting across from him.

  Black Jolly, a man who lived in the shadows, doing whatever he had to for the right amount of coin, was neither black nor jolly. At six-foot-seven, as thin as a willow switch, and with a mustache so full it consumed his upper and lower lips, Black could walk into a room and all conversation stopped. It wasn’t his height as much as his eyes. Yellow, like those of a tiger, rimmed in black with a black center. And the ragged scar running from his right temple to the tip of his chin. Even the most hardened man couldn’t help but stare.

  “For now, all you need to do is hire them. Don’t worry about what they’ll be doing, Black. Once the men are assembled, I’ll have more than enough work to keep their pockets full.”

  “As well as their stomachs?”

  Giles finished his coffee, setting the cup on an old table. “Of course. They’ll be supplied with whatever they need. As long as they do what I ask, we’ll all be happy with the arrangement. Including you, and I know how difficult you are to please.”

  Choking out a bitter laugh, he took off his hat and stood, stretching to his full height. “My needs are simple, boss. Pay me what we agreed on. You do that and we’ll be fine.”

  “Have you ever known me not to?”

  Jolly stared down at him, his face twisting into a snarl. “No. You wouldn’t be here if you’d ever tried to cheat me.”

  Giles stood, never taking his gaze off him. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness in front of a man like Jolly. “I’m a businessman, Black, the same as you. It’s real simple. You do the work, you get paid.” Reaching down, he grabbed his empty cup, moving past Jolly to set it on a shelf by the stove. “Tell me more about the men you want to hire.”

  “That’s information you don’t need. They’ll take orders from me.”

  “How do I know they can be trusted?”

  Jolly’s yellow eyes narrowed on Giles, darkening in warning. “You doubting me, boss? It ain’t going to end well if you don’t trust me.”

  Holding up both hands, palms out, Giles shook his head. “You�
��re right. I don’t need to know anything about the men and they don’t need to know anything about me. I see no problem, as long as we’re clear on that.”

  Jolly’s features didn’t change as he walked to the door, bent low, and stepped outside. Settling the hat on his head, he leaned against a post, pulling a cheroot from his pocket. Lighting it, he blew out a stream of smoke as he glanced about the secluded site. A dilapidated barn stood twenty yards away, a well near the side of the cabin, which was in better condition than Jolly expected.

  “You own this place?”

  Giles nodded as he stepped beside him. “One of my companies. It’s not in my name. I don’t want anyone to know I own land around Conviction. Will it be satisfactory?”

  “It’s as good a place as any for me and the men to hide while we’re here.”

  Looking up at the darkening sky, Giles walked down the steps. “I need to head back to town.” Grabbing the reins, he mounted his horse, then looked back at Jolly. “You know, you never did tell me if Black is your real name.”

  Jolly blew out another stream of smoke, shaking his head. “It’s not.”

  Giles leaned toward him. “How’d you get it?”

  Finishing the cheroot, he dropped it onto the wooden planks, crushing it out with the heel of his boot. His lips twisted into a feral grin.

  “Ma said she’d never known anyone with such a black heart.” Without another word, Jolly went back inside, shutting the door behind him.

  Conviction

  “Will you need anything more from me tonight, Mr. Donahue?”

  Bay stopped rubbing his brow with a finger to look up at Jasper Hamm, the young man who assisted August, and now him, in the law practice. Straightening the papers in front of him, he shook his head.

  “Nothing more this evening, Jasper. We’ll be starting early again tomorrow.” Bay glanced back down at the papers.

  Jasper continued to stand next to Bay’s desk, then cleared his throat.

  “Was there something else?”

  “Uh…tomorrow is Saturday, sir.”

  Straightening, Bay nodded. “You’re right. It is. Does Mr. Fielder not have you come in on Saturdays?”

  “Not usually, sir.”

  Slapping his hands on the desk, Bay stood, towering over the shorter, slightly built man. “Then I’ll make do without you tomorrow.”

  “If you’re certain…I mean, I can come to work if you need me.”

  “I’m certain. If I find your services are needed, I’ll send word.”

  “Well, then, goodnight, sir.”

  “Goodnight, Jasper.”

  Bay watched him close the door, cringing as an image from his childhood popped into his mind. He’d opened his father’s study a crack, enough to peer inside without being detected. His father sat at a huge desk, his work stacked in front of him, his glasses low on his nose. At eight years old, and unlike his older brothers, he’d never been allowed in the private room off the entry to his family’s opulent home.

  Bay had drawn in a breath, building up his courage before pushing the door open to walk inside. He tiptoed all the way to the edge of the desk, setting a hand on it, waiting for his father to notice him.

  As the minutes passed without being acknowledged, Bay wondered if he’d made a mistake entering his father’s sanctuary without invitation. Without warning, the elder Donahue whipped off his glasses, features twisting, his gaze lifting to collide with Bay’s.

  “Get out. Now.”

  Bay’s breath caught, his heart racing as he backed up, never taking his eyes off his father. Blinking back the tears at the terse dismissal, he squared his shoulders, lifting his chin.

  “Well, then, goodnight, sir.” Stepping into the entry, he closed the door with a gentle click.

  He’d used the same words then as Jasper had tonight. The circumstances were much different and he knew Jasper would return.

  Bay had never again attempted to enter his father’s study. He’d refused to step inside when the invitation came at age twelve, six years before he left his family for the last time.

  Black sheep was a term he knew well, had grown to embrace after hearing it innumerable times growing up. His older brothers were the golden sons. Bay was the result of a drunken night his father spent with their nanny, who’d disappeared the day after giving birth.

  A messed up start to a messed up life, Bay thought as he shook off the memory, lowering himself back into his chair.

  “Ah, you’re still here.”

  Bay looked up to see August, his father’s old friend, standing in the doorway. The two men couldn’t be more different.

  Standing, Bay motioned to a chair in front of his desk. “I thought you’d left for your supper meeting.”

  August sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “Giles won’t be meeting me at the Gold Dust for another hour.” He rubbed his chin, letting out a breath. “There’s something about the man…” His voice trailed off as he gazed toward the window.

  Bay walked around the desk, taking the chair next to him. “What are your concerns?”

  “I’m not certain. I sent a telegram to the president of the San Francisco Merchant Bank, asking general questions about Giles. The response was what you’d expect.”

  Bay nodded. “He’s a valued colleague of the board, an upstanding member of society, and a generous patron. His wife’s father was a founder of the bank and one of the wealthiest men in San Francisco. Oh, and Giles is a close friend of the bank president.” Seeing August’s eyes widen, he grinned. “I did some checking on the man myself. Since you’re the principal share of the Bank of Conviction, I thought it wise to learn as much as possible about the man.”

  Lifting a brow, August leaned forward. “What else have you learned?”

  Standing, Bay walked to a cabinet, pulled out a file, and handed it to August. “He grew up poor—in extreme poverty. His mother raised him. From what the investigator learned, his father was one of the first to come west at the discovery of gold. He left Giles and his mother in a tent city outside Sacramento. The man never sent any money and didn’t return.”

  Reading the pages, August looked up. “There’s a gap between his teens and when he married.”

  Bay leaned his hip against the desk, crossing his arms. “My man is working on it. It’s as if Giles disappeared, then reemerged when he met a wealthy young widow who became his wife.”

  “The report shows he’s dedicated to her.”

  “And his mother moved in with them a few years ago,” Bay added.

  “So he’s devoted to the two women. Fine qualities.” August rubbed his brow, pursing his lips.

  “Men do exist who love their wife and mother, but engage in questionable activities.”

  Handing back the file, August stood. “Join us for supper. I’d like you to get a better feel for the man, give me your opinion.”

  Bay had hoped to go to Buckie’s Castle, have a couple whiskeys, before returning to his room in August’s house. “Of course. Let me finish a letter and I’ll meet you at the Gold Dust.”

  Walking to the door, August turned back. “I’ll be glad when the Feather River Hotel opens.”

  Bay nodded his agreement. “Have you hired someone to manage the restaurant?”

  “I have. I’ll say no more now, but believe you’ll be quite surprised by my selection.”

  Bay cocked a brow. “You stole one of the cooks from the White House?”

  August chuckled. “Not quite, but I believe you’ll find my choice quite unconventional.”

  Bay went along with the game his boss started. “When are you expecting this mystery man?”

  “Not long now. With luck, the hotel and restaurant will be finished in late November. The cook will have time to hire staff, prepare menus, and order supplies in time for the Christmas season.”

  “He’ll have his work cut out for him.”

  An odd expression crossed August’s face before his features stilled. “Certainly. Well, I’ll se
e you at supper.”

  Bay sat down, amused at the enjoyment his boss took in the secrecy of his new hire. When the man arrived, he was sure it would be one of the top chefs from New York, or perhaps someone August had brought over from France. Fielder only worked with the best, which reminded Bay of how he still needed to prove himself to the man who’d taken a huge chance on bringing him to Conviction. Bay would do everything in his power to make certain August didn’t regret it.

  Circle M

  “You sure you want the first watch, lass?” Fletcher sat next to Heather, both finishing the last of their hardtack, jerky, and coffee.

  She nodded. “I’ll not be sleeping anyway. Might as well be first.”

  Standing, Fletcher stretched his arms over his head. “I’ll leave you to it.” Grabbing his bedroll, he spread it out on the other side of the fire, where Bram already snored. “I swear the lad can sleep through anything.” Fletcher winked at her. “Wake him first for the second watch.”

  Heather chuckled to herself. Fletcher and Bram had always been close, though it would be hard for an outsider to know with all their teasing of each other.

  Tossing more wood on the fire, she pulled her jacket tight as a shiver ran through her. Within minutes, Fletcher was out, the soft sound of his snoring matching Bram’s.

  She could see the cattle clearly from where they camped. It was a small herd, easy to guard, for which she was thankful.

  Leaning her head back, Heather looked up at the stars, recognizing a few. She wished she’d paid more attention to Caleb when he’d tried to teach her the constellations. He’d insisted knowing them would prove valuable. She’d given him a sharp reply, turning her back to him. Caleb hadn’t offered again.

  The memory made her think of other times when Caleb had approached her, offering help or advice. Most times, it was when they were with her brothers and cousins, somewhere out on the ranch where anyone could hear their conversation. She never wanted any of them to know how much she liked him. Instead of accepting his help, she allowed her defenses and infamous temper to take control, saying and doing things she now regretted.