Stay a Little Longer (10 page)

Excitedly and in great detail, Zachary explained the deal that he had struck with the Gaitskill Lumber Company. Patiently,
he explained the tremendous benefits that would be brought to Carlson: the countless number of jobs, the boon all of those
men would be to the livelihoods of the town’s businessmen, and even of a pledge made to build a brand-new schoolhouse at the
lumber company’s expense. He also told her of the one condition placed upon him by the deal, that he acquire all of the buildings
located around the train depot so that they could be converted into offices for the lumber company. And that was where her
family came in.

When he told her about the generous offers that were made to purchase all of those properties, particularly the price that
he had been asked to give for the boardinghouse, Rachel at first thought he was joking, but upon realizing that he was not,
she found her breath taken away.

“You made… this offer to my mother?” she asked hesitantly.

“I did.” Zachary chuckled, a deep rumble that would have unnerved her if his words hadn’t already done so. “But she wouldn’t
hear of it. She’d rather continue having you slave away as if you were nothing but the hired help than leave this place with
all of your problems solved.”

“What reason did she give for turning you down?”

Instead of answering, Zachary regarded her with a keen interest. “Are you telling me that she didn’t even bother to tell you
about it?”

Confusion reigned in Rachel’s thoughts. While she didn’t expect to know everything that went on around the house, what Zachary
had explained to her sounded important enough that it hurt her that she had not been told, that a way out of their troubles
existed.

Why wouldn’t Mother tell me about such an offer?

What reason could she possibly have for turning it down?

“Is the offer still good?” she asked.

“It is,” Zachary answered with a gleam in his eyes. “And it’s one that I think you should grab. After all, there’s more than
just the three of you to worry about… There’s Charlotte as well.”

The mere mention of Charlotte’s name angered Rachel; every bit as clearly as on the day on which it was given, she remembered
the promise that Sherman Tucker, Mason and Zachary’s father, had made to Alice after her husband’s unfortunate death. He had
pledged to support Charlotte, always to make sure she was cared for, even if it cost him all of his wealth. But that aid had
never been forthcoming.

“Your father swore that he would—”

“And that is a pledge that I give you my word I intend to keep,” Zachary said, cutting her off before she could say any more,
“as long as you can persuade your mother to sell this place.”

“I don’t know if—”

“Think about it, Rachel,” he kept on, his hands gripping her shoulders. “No more days wasted cleaning up after others you
hardly know, your mother and uncle no longer living in shameful surroundings, and, most important, Charlotte will finally
have everything she would ever need. Everything you’ve ever wanted can be yours, and all I ask is that you persuade Eliza
to do what you know is for the best, not only for you, but for each and every person in Carlson.”

Though it pained her to admit it, Rachel knew that what Zachary offered was very appealing. The thought of leaving her chores
behind, of not having to worry about rainwater pouring in through a hole in the roof, of endless days spent hanging laundry
on the line, of ensuring that Charlotte was properly cared for, was as enticing to her as anything she could remember.

But could she accept Zachary Tucker’s word as the truth? Clearly, he had a lot riding on the deal with the lumber company.
In his current position, wouldn’t he say anything in order to gain what he wanted? With his reputation as something of a snake
in the grass, how far could she take him at his word?

I need to speak to my mother!

Sensing that he had said enough, Zachary released his grip on Rachel and made his way to the door. Before stepping out, he
turned back to her, seriousness written across his face. “Whether you choose to continue living from hand to mouth”—he sneered
as he looked back around the house—“or to take advantage of my offer… it’s up to you.”

Zachary Tucker was very pleased with himself. Hurrying back toward the bank, he could scarcely contain the wide smile that
kept creeping up at the corners of his mouth. Even in his wildest of dreams, he had never imagined it would go so well.

There was little doubt that he had made an impact on Rachel; the way she had blanched when he’d told her how much was being
offered for that decrepit boardinghouse had pleased him no end. She was pragmatic, a realist, someone who would recognize
that there was a better way to be had. His instincts to go to her had proven true.

Now all I have to do is wait…

Zachary didn’t feel the least bit guilty for having lied to Rachel; the mere thought of a company as successful as Gaitskill
offering to rebuild Carlson’s schoolhouse was enough to make him laugh. But he had simply followed a strategy that had served
him well in the past; tell the other person whatever she wants to hear. He hadn’t been lying when he said there were many
who would benefit from the railroad’s arrival… not the least of whom would be him and his bank.

What did bother him was the mention of Charlotte Tucker. His father had been nothing short of a fool when he had made the
offer to care for the girl; undeniably distraught with grief at Mason’s death, he had not been thinking clearly. He’d even
mentioned a ridiculous idea to send her to some sort of woman’s college. But once illness had taken hold of Sherman, Zachary
had chosen to forget the promise.

But Rachel had never forgotten.

Having never taken a wife or had children of his own, Zachary could see Charlotte as exactly what she was; a threat to all
that he had taken pains to accomplish. As Mason’s child, she could make legitimate claims to the empire her father was set
to inherit. Just by right of birth, she could cut a piece from Zachary’s pie, and that was something he could not allow.

Over the years since Mason’s death, he had made a show of concern for his niece’s welfare, without actually doing anything
of substance. Now, as a condition for the sale of the boardinghouse, he knew that he would have to give her something, but
he would maneuver to ensure that she received little more than she had now. No matter what, Charlotte would never be allowed
to grow into a thorn in his side.

“At least I didn’t have to see the little bitch!” he muttered.

Quickening his stride, Zachary took comfort in the fact that Rachel was almost assuredly talking to her mother even as he
walked. That Eliza had never spoken about his offer was especially good news; he had seen the pain written on Rachel’s face
as clearly as words printed on a page. That hurt would only intensify when they argued. If Rachel were as persuasive as he
hoped she would be, it would only be a matter of time before the Watkinses came to him, begging to sell the boardinghouse
for what was offered. All he needed was time and a little patience, and all of his dreams would come true.

But what if Eliza said no?

Though he doubted it could happen, Zachary knew that there was a chance that Rachel would be unable to persuade her mother.
By staying in her darkened room for all of these years, Eliza Watkins had shown herself to be more than a bit unstable. Even
when faced with reason and a pile of money so large that she could drown in it, she could still prove to be as stubborn as
a mule. Besides, she’d already turned him down once.

If that were to happen, then he would have no choice; Travis Jefferson would have to be unleashed. On that day, people would
be hurt, blood would be shed. There would be no telling what the final fate of his dead brother’s remaining family would be.

In the end, all that mattered was that he got what he wanted. Who got hurt was not his concern.

R
ACHEL PUSHED OPEN
the door to her mother’s room without a knock and stepped inside. The interior was as gloomy as always, darkened by the heavy
curtains draped across the windows. If it weren’t for the meager light thrown off by the small lamp on top of Eliza’s bureau,
it would have been hard to see much of anything.

Eliza was in her usual place, peering out of a sliver of space between the curtains to see outside. Her face was drawn in
concentration and worry and her hands wrung nervously. Deep wrinkles, the result of many years spent in dire expectation of
the worst, were etched across her forehead. When Rachel brought her breakfast, it had been clear that this was a day when
her demons were getting the better of her.

“What’s the matter, dear? Are you sick?” Eliza fretted, taking Rachel’s hands in her own. “Oh, I just knew that this was going
to be a dreadful day!”

“I’m fine, Mother,” Rachel said quickly.

“But that doesn’t mean you’ll stay that way!”

When her mother was like this, worked up into a frenzy of worry, Rachel knew that it was hard to talk to her about the most
trivial matters; broaching a subject so important would be next to impossible. Still, she knew that what Zachary Tucker had
told her could not be ignored for long, and that therefore there was much for her and her mother to discuss. She couldn’t
wait for Eliza to calm down.

“Zachary Tucker was here,” she said simply.

“Did something happen to Sherman?” Eliza asked in a panic. “He’s been dreadfully sick. But he was always such a kind person,
I’d hate for something horrible to have occurred! Oh, it would be such a tragedy! When you get to be my age, you’ll know how
painful it is to watch everyone around you pass!”

“That’s not why Zachary came.”

“Then what on earth did he want?”

Rachel sighed, fearful about confronting her mother, but determined and desperate to know the truth. “He told me about the
lumber company’s offer, about the plans that they have made for Carlson, and about how he’d come to you and inquired about
buying the boardinghouse. He told me what they had offered and that you’d turned them down.”

“He came around about that old thing again?” Eliza snorted derisively. “I certainly hope that you told him the same thing
I did! The nerve of that man wanting us to give up our home!”

As surely as if she had been struck in the chest, Rachel knew that Zachary had told her the truth; he had come to her mother
with a very generous offer and she had turned him down, leaving the family in their financial predicament. She wondered if
everything else he told her was equally true.

“Why didn’t you take his offer?” she asked, her face flushing bright red.

“Do you… do you want to sell our home?” Surprise was written across Eliza’s face.

“It would make life easier for all of us,” Rachel pressed. “There’d be no more having to clean up after others, providing
rooms for strangers. We wouldn’t have to constantly worry about making ends meet or paying our bills. It would be hard to
leave, but with the kind of money that Zachary is offering, we could make a new start!”

“Would you have taken the money?”

“I would have,” Rachel said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Without uttering a word in reply, Eliza stepped away from her daughter and crossed the room to the scarred bureau. Picking
up a silver picture frame, she stared intently into the eyes of her lost daughter, into the photograph that she had had taken
of Alice right before her wedding. Rachel waited for her mother to speak, but Eliza remained silent; it was as if she were
waiting for Alice to say something.

“Why wouldn’t you take what was offered?” Rachel asked again.

“Do you still remember the day that you and Alice spent the whole afternoon sliding on rags down the staircase banisters because
you thought that you could clean them faster that way?” Eliza asked, her eyes never wavering from the picture. “I can still
hear your laughter carrying through every nook and cranny of the house.”

Rachel remembered how they had raced each other back up the steps before once again sliding down, laughing until they were
almost out of breath. She recalled how on one particular trip she had crashed violently at the bottom of the stairs, but before
the tears could well up and come pouring out, Alice had been by her side, kissing her scrapes and calming her fears. “I do,”
she answered simply.

“How about the day that Alice spent in the kitchen making apple pies for the Fosters after their barn burned from a lightning
strike? She said she was worried that they would be too busy to remember to eat. She spent half of the night making sure things
were just right.”

Unbidden recollections of how Alice had proudly walked down the long road to the Fosters’ farm carrying a tray of fresh, still
cooling pies sprang up in Rachel’s mind. It always seemed as if her older sister were leaping from one good deed to another;
from knitting mittens to be sent to an orphanage in Minneapolis to giving singing lessons to some of the less well-off girls
at church. There were so many selfless things Alice had done out of the goodness of her heart.

“As much as I might have complained about it, I even have fond memories of that rainy April day she brought home that wounded,
mud-caked, mangy dog and nursed it back to health in the sitting room. Then, just as it was nearly ready to be back on its
own, it went and had a litter of puppies! Until my dying day, I’ll never forget the way that Alice’s face lit up at the sight.”

“Me neither,” Rachel admitted.

Because mine did exactly the same thing!

“What I am trying to tell you,” Eliza continued, finally turning back to face her daughter, “is that every one of those memories
happened here… they all happened right here in this house. They’re in the cracked walls and the floors, they’re right there
in every corner and every closet, they are in every window and doorway and even out around the washing line, all of them waiting
for one of us to rediscover them.”