A Thousand Little Blessings (21 page)

Etta straightened her spine. What did Mr. Moore mean by that threat? Would he convince the other board members to relieve her from duty? Would he take over?

Judge Thompson gestured to Carolina. “Have you got all that, Mrs. Swanson?”

Carolina scribbled a few last lines and then looked up from her paper. “Yes, Judge.”

“Then I say we adjourn for the evening,” Judge Thompson suggested. “However, I'd like to reconvene two weeks from tonight. You can give us an update then, Henrietta.”

There was a light rap at the closed door.

Carolina stood, but before she reached the entrance, the door swung open.

Carl greeted the group with a wide smile. “Good evening, everyone. Can you give me a few minutes? I have a matter to discuss with the board.”

Etta grasped the arms of her chair in surprise.

Uncle Carl never came to the board meetings. Never.

James Moore pulled his pocket watch from his vest. “I can give you thirty minutes. Will it take longer than that?”

Carl stepped farther into the room and set his hat on the table. “I won't take any more of your valuable time than I have to. Mind if I help myself to the refreshments?”

Carolina popped up. “I'll get them for you, Mr. Stanley. Would you like lemonade or water?”

“Lemonade sounds lovely. Spring is in the air, gentlemen. Aren't we lucky to be living in this part of our great state?”

Judge Thompson didn't give anyone time to answer. “What's on your mind, Carl?”

Carl flicked his gaze to Etta and then returned it to Judge Thompson. “Would it be possible to excuse my niece from this meeting? I have some things to discuss which might distress a young girl.”

What could Carl have to say that she couldn't hear? Beneath the table, Etta clutched the fabric of her skirt.

“If your concern is for the fairer sex, then we should also consider Mrs. Swanson,” Mayor Robinson said.

Carl's smile never faltered, yet he managed to convey concern in his voice. “Perhaps that would be best.”

“But Mrs. Swanson is taking the minutes,” William reminded them. “Is someone else willing to take over for her?”

“If Carl's business is added to the minutes, which is the proper protocol to follow, then Henrietta and Carolina will know the content, anyway,” Mr. Moore said.

“Good point,” Judge Thompson allowed. “Carl, I believe Henrietta and Carolina may as well stay where they are. Now what's on your mind?”

Carl settled into a chair and folded his hands on top of the table. “First, I want to say how good a job I believe Henrietta's done in her father's absence. We all wish Henry a speedy recovery, but from what Dr. Russell has told me, it doesn't sound as though Henry will be back for a long time.”

“How is your father, Miss Davis?” William asked. “My mother wants to pay a visit, but I told her we'd best wait.”

“He's made remarkable progress,” Etta answered, “but your instincts were right about visiting. I'll be sure to tell my father that you and your mother were asking about him.”

As though he resented having the spotlight removed from him, Carl drummed his fingers on the table. “However,” he said in a loud voice, “I'm sure we all agree that the responsibility of running the bank shouldn't be left to a girl. Besides, Etta should be home helping her father.”

What was Carl up to? Who did he think would run the bank if she stayed home?

“I suppose you're volunteering to step into Henry's shoes,” Judge Thompson said.

Carl ducked his head. “Well, I…”

“Carl is familiar with the day-to-day procedures,” James Moore said.

“And he's a member of the family,” Mayor Robinson added.

An icy hand grasped Etta's heart as she realized what was behind Carl's unexpected visit to the meeting. He wanted control. She truly hoped she was wrong, but if her uncle was the embezzler, putting him in charge would ruin the bank and all of its depositors.

She couldn't let this happen.

William stood. “I'm not in favor of Carl taking over. Miss Davis has done a good job despite difficult circumstances, and there's no reason not to continue to trust her.”

Mayor Robinson rubbed his chin. “It is an awful lot for a lady to take on. I'm not saying Henrietta hasn't done her best, but…”

The young prosecutor turned toward the head of the table. “What do you say, Judge?”

Judge Thompson's white eyebrows framed serious eyes. “I say we think about it. We're going to reconvene in two weeks in order to get an update on that other matter and we can discuss Carl's offer, then.”

“What other matter?” Carl asked.

No one answered. Board members had a pact that bank business would only be discussed behind closed doors when everyone was present.

“If there's no other business,” Judge Thompson said, “I'm ready to adjourn this meeting.”

Carl's voice took on a tone of urgency. “Surely you gentlemen don't expect to leave little Etta in charge of this bank for two more weeks. It's simply too much for her to take on. At least let me supervise her.”

Carl's insistence that he be allowed more access to the bank was raising Etta's suspicions as surely as the hair on the back of her neck.

James Moore checked his pocket watch again. “You may as well let it go, Carl. One thing about this board, we don't do anything quickly. We'll meet in two weeks and make a decision then.”

Carl threw up his hands as if conceding the fight. “Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when this bank has to close because the funds have been mismanaged.” He snatched his hat from the table, flung open the door, and strode into the hallway.

The door banged shut behind him. “What in the world was that all about?” Mayor Robinson asked. “Carl couldn't know about the missing funds, could he?”

Not unless he was the one taking them. But Etta refrained from voicing her opinion.

“I don't see how anyone other than the six of us could know,” Judge Thompson said, “and we've never had a problem maintaining confidentiality before. Despite Carl Stanley's dire prediction, I'm convinced the bank won't fold in two weeks. Now, if there's no other business, I'm going to adjourn the meeting.” He turned his sharp gaze to each person gathered around the table and hearing no other issues, said, “This meeting is adjourned.”

Judge Thompson, James Moore, and Mayor Robinson stood, gathered their hats and jackets, and departed with noisy but genial farewells.

Carolina reached across the table and squeezed Etta's arm. “It's going to be all right.”

Etta rested her head in her hand. Now that the meeting was over, her shoulders ached and her stomach felt empty. Had she eaten anything since breakfast?

Carolina gathered her notebook and fountain pen. “I'll type up these notes and file them for our next meeting. Now stop worrying, Etta. You're every bit as good at this job as your father. I'd even say you were better. After all, you're the one who uncovered the problem.”

William Clark opened the door for the older lady. “Goodnight, Mrs. Swanson.”

Carolina beamed at the young man. “Goodnight, William. Please give your mother my best.”

“I'll do that.” William closed the door quietly and sat next to Etta. “Well, now. That certainly wasn't like our usual quarterly meetings. A thief, a blustering uncle, and Henrietta Davis taking them on like Joan of Arc at the siege of Orleans.”

Etta bowed her head and laughed, all the tension of the day flowing out of her body like air from a bellows. “Oh, Mr. Clark. I haven't laughed in a long time. Thank you.”

“I like to see you laugh. You should do it more often.”

“I agree. But lately…well, there hasn't been much to laugh about.”

William's voice took on a sympathetic tone. “I know. I'm sorry you're having such of tough time. But remember, you're not alone in this fight.”

“You're right. Sometimes it feels like everything depends on me, but I do have friends I can call on for help.”

William leaned closer. “I hope you consider me one of those friends.”

“Of course. You've always been so thoughtful to both my family and me. And I won't forget to contact you if my investigation leads to something the prosecutor's office should know.”

William reached for her hand. “I'd like to be more than a friend, Henrietta. If you're amenable to the idea.”

Etta leaned away from William as the meaning behind his words became clear. “Oh. I didn't realize. I mean…” Etta's face and throat grew warm. “You're very kind to think of me that way, Mr. Clark.”

“I think it's time you called me William, don't you? May I call you Henrietta?”

“Oh…of course…if you'd like.”

William smiled and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “May I call on you soon? When your father is up to it, I'd like to have a talk with him.”

Years of nothing and now both George and William were interested in her? What was happening?

“My father has begun having breakfast at the table, but I don't know how much longer it will be before he's up to guests.”

William eased closer. “Perhaps you'll join me for lunch one day, or we could motor into Austin for a nice evening out.”

“Lunch!” She squeezed her eyes shut upon realizing she'd shouted the word. But she was already making a trip to Austin to see George Owens. Cousin Nora would surely tease her about her sudden popularity. “I'd prefer to stay in town.”

“Of course. I should have realized you wouldn't want to be too far from your father at a time like this.”

Etta swallowed the spurt of guilt she felt at hiding one suitor from the other. How did other women handle things like this?

“I'd best say goodnight. Mother never eats dinner until I get home, and I shouldn't keep her waiting. Let me know if there's anything I or anyone in my office can do to help you.”

Etta's mouth was suddenly dry. She drank deeply from her glass of water. “I will. Thank you.”

William squeezed her hand and stood. After putting on his hat and giving her one last smile, he left the conference room whistling a happy tune.

Etta blew out a long breath and slumped in her chair. Was this the way the ugly duckling felt when it learned its true identity? Etta's life in Burnet had always been supervised by at least one of her parents. She'd attended every tea and church social at her mother's side, and since graduating from college, she'd been her father's assistant. Whether he wanted an errand run or a report updated, she was there, silently standing by to do his bidding.

But without her mother to lead the way or her father to issue commands, Etta had been forced to make her own way. She'd gladly return to the life of the quiet accessory rather than face the next two weeks. That's all the time she had to find the thief and figure out a way to stop him. What would Gabriel think about all this? It would be easier if she could talk to him, but there was no telling how much longer it would take him to complete his journey. If only she could talk with him beneath the stars again. She'd sit by his side, maybe even nestle her head on his shoulder, and listen as he told her everything that had happened while he'd been gone.

But instead of Gabriel, she had George Owens and William Clark. Not that there was anything wrong with those gentlemen. Any woman would be excited at the prospect of being courted by either one of them. She'd known George for several years, and William had grown up in Burnet. But did the amount of time spent with someone equal depth of feeling?

George Owens had always been a business acquaintance, one of many suited men who came and went in her father's sphere, and William Clark had always been a family friend who'd gone to law school, and then been appointed to the prosecutor's position.

If she had to choose between the two, William was the more attractive choice.

If only Gabriel would come home and make his intentions known. Etta imagined him striding into her father's study. He'd scowl at her other suitors and send them running, take her hand, and then lead her out of her father's house and into the future.

Such fanciful thinking! No one would ever suspect quiet, obedient Henrietta Davis of having such far-fetched dreams. It would be best if she kept her head out of the clouds and her imagination tightly reined.

After all, George and William were fine gentlemen with immaculate manners. They'd done the right thing, first talking to her and planning on speaking to her father. But what had Gabriel done? Nothing. If she waited for something that never came, she'd sacrifice a home and family of her own.

“Oh, Gabriel,” Etta whispered to the empty conference room. “Come home and stake your claim on my heart. Otherwise, I'll be tempted to settle for second best. Come home, Gabriel. Come home.”

 

 

 

 

10

 

Gabriel paced the wooden platform of the Brenham depot, waiting to board the train to LaGrange. His bag rested at this feet and his ticket sat securely in his jacket's breast pocket. Everything was ready for the trip. Everything except him.

Pain throbbed through his neck and shoulders as though he'd been carrying a heavy weight for too long and his queasy stomach rejected all thoughts of food. Ever since he'd walked back to the Brenham train station, his midsection had jumped like basket full of nervous crickets.

What was wrong with him? He'd almost grown accustomed to insomnia and the constant irritation that burrowed beneath his skin, but this sensation was different. He wasn't ill; every other part of his body felt normal. But either a small animal was fighting to free itself from his belly, or something was wrong.

Could he be homesick? He hadn't longed for home since his first weeks away at college. Even Army life hadn't engendered more than a passing yearning to see his parents. But he was sick of grimy depots and crowded trains. The thought of another trip with nothing to do except read outdated copies of magazines or relive his disastrous battle experiences held no attraction. A few of his mother's home-cooked meals would go a long way. Not to mention he could drop in on Etta.