Santa Fe Woman (3 page)

As soon as she had spoken, Leland Hayden stepped through the door. He was fifty but looked younger. He was no more than medium height and had brown hair and warm brown eyes. Taking a seat, he murmured, “Well, you shouldn’t have waited for me.”

Kate, who was more observant than the children, saw that her brother-in-law was pale and agitated, but she did not remark on it. She bowed her head as Leland asked a brief blessing, and Carleen said at once, “Mrs. Satterfield has left, Papa. She’s not coming back.”

Leland looked up from the spoonful of soup. Putting down the spoon he said, “Left? Why’d she leave?”

“It was nothing really.”

“Carleen had a snake in her room in a box with her pencils,” Kate said calmly. “Mrs. Satterfield reached in and got a snake instead of a pencil.”

Carleen grinned broadly. “You should have heard her yelp, Papa. It was funny.”

“It was not funny!” Jori said severely. “It was impolite. You did it on purpose.”

“No, I didn’t. I forgot about that old snake. Besides, it was only a garter snake. It wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

“Well, now we’ll have to go to the trouble of finding another teacher,” Jori said. Suddenly a thought struck her, and she said, “Oh, Papa, I went over to see the mare that Clyde has for sale. She’s a wonderful animal. I think we ought to buy her. Clyde only wants fifteen hundred dollars for her.”

Mark at once said petulantly, “Well, if you can have a horse that costs that much, I ought to be able to make a trip to England with Tom Seaton. You know, Father, it’s a graduation present.”

“You’re not going to graduate,” Carleen spoke up at once. “You failed your last two classes.”

Mark shot a hard glance at Carleen and said, “None of your business. Besides, I can make it up when I get back.”

Kate had said nothing up until now, but she had been watching Leland’s face closely. “What’s the matter, Leland?” she asked quietly.

Leland looked up and met Kate’s eyes. She was the only one in the household who had the discernment to see that he was not himself. He had come to appreciate his sister-in-law. He had been deeply in love with his wife Loreen, and losing her had been like losing a limb. The children had been small, and it had been, as far as Leland was concerned, a blessing of God that Kate had been available. She had taken over running the household and was the one that Leland usually talked things over with when there was a decision to be made.

“I’d been hoping I wouldn’t have to tell any of you this, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to.”All of them suddenly grew serious and stared at their father. He was not given to moods and was usually happy and cheerful, but if they had been observant, they would have noted for some weeks that he had been less than happy.

“What’s the matter, Papa?” Jori said. “Are you sick?”

“Oh, I’m well enough,” Leland said. He put his fork down and braced his hands against the top of the table and for a moment tried to collect his thoughts. They were all aware that he was keeping something from them, and finally he said, “I had a meeting with the bank today. It was about the loan I applied for. I mentioned it to you.”

“What’s the matter? We’ve never had trouble getting money before,” Jori said.

“Well, these are different times, daughter. I made a bad decision last year. I didn’t see this depression coming, and I plunged into some stocks that looked good at the time. But they haven’t been good. I should have been pulling back and selling.” He looked up and made his apology as briefly as he could. “I had no idea such hard times were coming. Nobody did.”

“But we’ll be all right if the bank gives us the loan, won’t we?” Mark asked.

“Not exactly, Mark. Even if we get the loan, we’re going to have to cut back on our expenses.”

“I can do without a teacher,” Carleen piped up at once.

Kate said quietly, “It’s bad, isn’t it, Leland?” She knew her brother-in-law well and was as aware of his weaknesses as of his strengths. He was one of the kindest men she had ever known, yet his worst fault, in her opinion, was that he could not discipline his children. Mark and Jori were spoiled to the bone, and it was too late to do anything about it.

“Yes, it is bad, Kate. I don’t—I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“Well, the Lord will see us through it,” she said calmly. She had a deep faith in God that she had not been able to communicate to the rest of the family.

“I wish I had your faith,” Leland said in a defeated voice.

Kate looked at him and said, “Everyone has a measure of faith. That’s what the Bible says. All you need is a bit of faith as big as a mustard seed.”

Her words did not seem to cheer Leland Hayden up. He waited until the children had left the table and finally turned and said, “Kate, if Loreen hadn’t died, things would have been
different. She had more judgment than I ever had. I could never say no to the children.”

“No, you never could,” Kate said. She came over and put her good hand on Leland’s shoulder, her eyes filled with pity. “But I think that the time is here when you’re going to have to say no to a lot of things, brother!”

AS SOON AS LUTHER Phelps entered the room, Leland’s heart sank. He had been hoping desperately that Phelps would enter the room with a smile on his face, but the tall banker’s countenance was without expression. Bankers like Luther had a way of masking their emotions. They were usually good poker players for this very reason. As Phelps sat down, Leland tried to convince himself that there was nothing wrong, but the banker’s first words dashed all that hope.

“Leland, I feel terrible having to say this,” Phelps said. His voice was even, but there was regret on his features. “But the committee has refused to approve your loan.”

Phelps’ words seemed to shatter Leland Hayden. He ducked his head and stared down at his hands that were clasped tightly together in his lap. “There’s—there’s no hope they’d change their mind?”

“I’m afraid not. You understand times are tough right now—as tough as I’ve ever seen them. So many businesses have defaulted on their loans that the committee is scared. I’m a little bit scared myself. It’s possible the bank itself might go down.”

Leland looked up startled. “Not really! That couldn’t happen, could it?”

“It’s happened before. Banks aren’t divine institutions, you know.” Phelps had a bitter light in his eyes, and his lips were drawn together in a white line. “I don’t know whether these depressions are an act of God or the foolishness of men, but I suspect the latter.”

“I don’t—I don’t really know what I’m going to do, Luther.”

“My advice is to sell out for what you can get, Leland. I’ve been hoping that you could salvage enough to start a new venture.”

“I suppose I’m not the first stockbroker to come to you.”

“No, nor the tenth either. It’s hit everybody hard. But you’ll be all right. You’re a good sound businessman. It was just a combination of things—and no one could have foreseen this happening.”

“I should have.” Leland’s voice was low as he shrugged his shoulders suddenly and got to his feet. He was unaccustomed to dealing with failure. His family had been well-to-do. He had stepped into a fine business that had prospered, and now it was all gone—or most of it anyway.

“Well, I know you tried your best, Luther.”

“Let’s stay in touch. Something will turn up. A good man like you will find a place.”

“Yes, of course.”

The two men shook hands and as Hayden left the bank, he somehow felt that his thinking had slowed down. He tried desperately to picture a world in which he had lost his place. Things would go on as always, but he himself—what would he do?

As he entered his carriage and picked up the lines, he thought of going home to face his family. A sudden wild impulse came to him to simply leave, to flee the scene of the accident, more or less, but a man could not do this. He tightened his jaw, gritted his teeth, and spoke to the horse, “Get up, Maude,” and as the bay moved forward, he tried to frame the speech that he would
have to make. It didn’t matter much what words he put it in; it amounted to three words: “I’m a failure.”

* * *

CARLEEN CAME DASHING INTO Jori’s room. “How was the ball, sister? Did you dance every dance?”

Jori was stripping off the dress that she had worn to the governor’s ball at the mansion. Her maid had built a fire, so the room was fairly warm. “Yes, I danced every dance.” She began taking off her undergarments and answering the questions that Carleen fired at her. Finally she was somewhat shocked, as she slipped her nightgown over her head, to hear Carleen ask, “When am I going to get a bosom? I’m flat as a picket fence.”

“You shouldn’t ask such questions.”

“Well, how am I going to know anything if nobody tells me? I’m afraid I’ll grow up with a figure like old Mrs. Satterfield.”

“No you won’t. You’ll be fine. You’re just in between now. Don’t try to hurry things so much.” Jori moved over to the fire, backed up to it, and put her hands behind her, soaking up the warmth.

“How do you know which man to marry? You’ve had three men after you to marry them. Four if you count Roger. So, how do you know which one to take?”

Jori suddenly laughed. “Well, in the romances the woman just
knows.
She’s walking along, and she sees this handsome fellow and then—
zing!
—like a bolt of lightning it just comes to her:
That’s the man I’m going to marry.
”

“Is that the way it happened when you saw Gerald?”

The question irritated Jori. She picked up her hairbrush and began brushing her hair. “That kind of thing is just in romances.”

“Then how
do
you know?”

Jori found herself unable to answer the question. In truth she had had four proposals, and two of them were absolutely unthinkable. The young man before Gerald had been exciting and a lot of fun, but he had been almost penniless. She’d had a good time with Charles Johnson, but she’d always known she would never marry him.

“You think it over, and you put all his good qualities down on a piece of paper and his bad on another piece of paper. Then you add them all up.”

Carleen stared at her petulantly. “That sounds like a business deal.”

“Well, I’m afraid it is a little bit like that. Don’t believe everything you read in the romances.”

Carleen had her next question ready. “Are we going to be poor, Jori?” She had been thinking a great deal, obviously, about what her father had said about cutting back. “I may have to go to work in a factory.”

“We’re not going to be poor.”

“If we are,” Carleen said, “you won’t be able to buy new dresses and horses.”

“Don’t worry about it. It may—”

At that instant there was a knock on the door. It opened, and Kate said, “You girls come down. Your father wants to talk to us.”

“I’m ready for bed,” Jori protested.

“Put on a robe and come on down.”

Jori frowned, but put on her robe, tied the belt, and slipped on some warm house slippers. She left, and as she stepped out into the hall, she saw Carleen pulling at Kate’s arm. “Are we going to be poor, Aunt Kate?”

“I don’t rightly know.”

“Would it scare you to be poor?”

“No,” Kate said and smiled slightly. “I’ve been poor before.”

The three hurried downstairs, and went at once to the study. Leland and Mark were talking together, and somehow Jori felt a chill. Fear was not something that came to her often, but her father’s face was somehow … broken. She did not know any other way to put it. She waited for him to speak, and when Kate closed the door and stepped inside, he cleared his throat and said, “The bank refused the loan.”

“What does that mean, Papa?” Jori asked quickly.

“It means we’re going to have to sell everything we can.”

“But not this house surely?”

“Yes. We can’t afford to stay here.”

“But it’s worth a lot of money,” Mark protested. “If we sell it, we’ll have money.”

“It’s mortgaged, Mark, so after the mortgage is paid off, we won’t get much.”

A silence fell across the room, and finally Jori cleared her throat. “I’m sure Gerald’s father will lend us some money. After all, I’m practically in the family.”

Kate suddenly made a snorting noise. “His family is so stuck up they can’t see past their noses. You’ll be lucky if that young man doesn’t break your engagement.”

“He’ll never do that! He loves me!”

Carleen did not miss the expression on Aunt Kate’s face. She knew disbelief when she saw it. She moved over and stood close to her father, looking up at him. “I can get a job, Papa.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’ll come to that, but it’s going to be different.” For a time Leland struggled trying to explain how they were going to have to cut back. “It would mean selling this house and finding a cheaper place. We’ll have to sell all of the things that—”

“What about the horses?” Jori asked at once.

“They’ll have to go I’m afraid, Jori. The place we rent won’t have any accommodations for horses.” Sadness touched his eyes. “It’s going to be very hard.”

Staring at his father, Mark said critically, “There must be something we can do.”

“I wish there were, son, but I can’t think what it would be.”

Kate said firmly, “We’ll survive. We’ll have to let all the servants go.”

Jori suddenly had a feeling such as she had never had before. It was as if she’d stepped on a trapdoor that had opened without warning. Servants had always been a part of her life—maids, drivers for the carriage, gardeners, cooks. They had been part of the universe that she moved in. She tried to think for a moment what it would be like having no servants, living in a small apartment somewhere, and it frightened her. She was a girl who was not easily frightened, but then she had never faced a situation like this. She half listened as her father and Kate set out the program they were going to have to follow, and the more she listened, the more she grew despondent and dreaded the future that was to come.

* * *

FEBRUARY HAD COME, AND Kate had watched her brother-inlaw struggle through the process of changing one life for another. For herself it was not all that difficult, for she had known a grinding poverty and hardship in Texas. But she knew that Leland and the children were stunned by the changes. She and Carleen had been the only ones to show any signs of cheer during the past
two months. Both Mark and Jori had grown bitter, and Leland moved like a zombie through the days.