Chapter 10 - Rutherford’s Offer
Fletcher Rutherford requested the meeting.
That alone made Eleanor suspicious.
The note arrived through a hotel boy.
DINNER. RIDGELINE PRIVATE ROOM. NO LAWYERS. NO SHERIFF. WE SHOULD END THIS BEFORE SOMEBODY ELSE GETS HURT.
Caleb tore it in half.
Eleanor picked up the pieces.
“We’re going.”
“No.”
“That word again.”
“He shot at the cabin.”
“We don’t know that.”
“He arranged it.”
“Probably.”
“That is not better.”
Eleanor put the paper together.
“He wants something.”
“North Slope.”
“No. If that were all, he wouldn’t invite us.”
Caleb stared.
“You’re not going alone.”
“I didn’t say I was.”
At seven that evening they entered Ridgeline Tavern.
Margaret gave Eleanor a look.
“If you scream, I’ll bring the soup pot.”
“Comforting.”
“It’s cast iron.”
Even Caleb smiled.
Rutherford waited upstairs.
No guards.
No attorney.
He poured whiskey.
Neither accepted.
“Sit.”
Eleanor did.
Caleb remained standing.
Rutherford looked at him.
“You always were dramatic.”
Caleb said nothing.
Rutherford turned to Eleanor.
“You are considerably more troublesome than I expected.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t admiration.”
“Then you should choose clearer language.”
Rutherford smiled despite himself.
“I understand why he chose you.”
Caleb’s voice sharpened.
“Get to the point.”
Rutherford sat.
“I’ll pay you.”
Eleanor’s expression did not change.
“How much?”
Caleb looked at her.
Rutherford smiled.
“Five thousand dollars.”
That was more money than Eleanor had imagined possessing in her lifetime.
“For what?”
“Leave.”
Caleb went motionless.
Rutherford continued.
“Return to Silver Hollow. File for annulment. State publicly that the marriage was arranged solely to defeat the will.”
“No.”
“You didn’t consider it.”
“I did.”
“For two seconds.”
“It was sufficient.”
Rutherford leaned forward.
“Ten thousand.”
Caleb stepped closer.
Eleanor lifted one finger.
He stopped.
Rutherford noticed.
Again.
“Ten thousand dollars, Mrs. Morgan. You could go anywhere. Denver. San Francisco. New York. Buy a house. Open a business.”
Eleanor thought of her father’s house.
The kitchen.
The porch.
The years she had spent believing she had been too weak to keep it.
“Where does the money come from?”
“What?”
“Consolidated?”
Rutherford’s expression changed.
“My finances are not your concern.”
“They become my concern when you offer me ten thousand dollars.”
“I have investments.”
“In the company that gains North Slope.”
He smiled thinly.
“Among others.”
Eleanor leaned back.
“Why is the ridge worth so much?”
“You found the survey.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know.”
“I know there may be silver.”
“There is.”
Caleb stared.
Rutherford realized he had said too much.
Eleanor spoke softly.
“How do you know?”
Rutherford recovered.
“Isaac told me.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Before or after your partnership ended?”
His eyes narrowed.
“So you found that too.”
“Yes.”
Rutherford poured another whiskey.
“I financed that exploration.”
“And Isaac repaid you.”
“He stole the discovery.”
“Legally?”
“Morally.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“You keep using morality whenever the law refuses to help you.”
His jaw tightened.
“You think Caleb’s father was some noble mountain guardian?”
“No.”
That surprised everyone.
“I think Isaac Morgan was difficult, proud, secretive, and possibly unfair.”
Caleb looked at her.
She continued.
“But unfairness does not give you permission to forge documents.”
Rutherford’s face went still.
“Careful.”
“Why?”
“Because accusation is not proof.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“But we’re getting closer.”
Rutherford stood.
The pleasant man disappeared.
“You have no idea what you’re interfering with.”
“That sentence has become repetitive.”
“People will lose jobs if Consolidated cannot expand.”
“Then Consolidated should purchase land honestly.”
“They tried.”
“From Caleb?”
“From Isaac.”
“And he refused.”
“Yes.”
“So you decided refusal was temporary.”
Rutherford looked at Caleb.
“Your father would have ruined this entire valley to preserve his pride.”
Caleb’s voice was low.
“My father is dead.”
Rutherford paused.
For the first time, something like regret crossed his face.
“Yes.”
Eleanor noticed.
Not fear.
Regret.
Important.
“Were you with him when he died?” she asked.
Rutherford’s eyes shifted.
“I found him.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Silence.
Caleb stepped forward.
“Answer her.”
Rutherford’s composure cracked.
“We argued.”
The room froze.
Caleb’s voice became quiet.
“About what?”
“The amendment.”
Eleanor stopped breathing.
“You admit knowing about it?”
Rutherford cursed softly.
He had trapped himself.
“The document was a negotiating instrument.”
“It contained Isaac’s forged signature,” Eleanor said.
“I didn’t forge it.”
“Who did?”
Rutherford looked away.
“Ames.”
Caleb’s hands clenched.
“Did my father know?”
“Yes.”
“What happened Sunday?”
Rutherford paced toward the window.
“I went to convince him not to expose Ames.”
“Why?”
“Because Ames had documents connecting me to the agreement.”
“You signed it.”
“I signed a draft before Isaac’s signature appeared.”
“Convenient,” Eleanor said.
Rutherford turned sharply.
“It’s true.”
“Then what happened?”
“We argued.”
“And?”
“He collapsed.”
Caleb moved so quickly the chair overturned.
Eleanor stood between them.
“Caleb.”
“He left him there.”
Rutherford’s face went pale.
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I called Reeves.”
“Why Reeves?” Eleanor asked.
“Because he was nearby.”
“Why not the sheriff?”
Rutherford said nothing.
Eleanor understood.
“Reeves owed you money.”
Rutherford’s silence answered.
Caleb looked murderous.
Eleanor kept one hand against his chest.
“Did Isaac speak after he collapsed?”
Rutherford swallowed.
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Rutherford looked directly at Caleb.
“He said, ‘Tell my son I was wrong.’”
Caleb stopped.
The anger changed.
Became grief.
Rutherford continued more quietly.
“He was alive when Reeves arrived.”
“What did Reeves do?”
“Examined him.”
“And?”
“Said his heart was failing.”
“Did you give Isaac anything?”
“No.”
“Did Reeves?”
Rutherford hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Eleanor studied him.
“Why hide any of this?”
“Because the forged amendment would have destroyed me.”
“So you protected yourself.”
“Yes.”
“At the expense of the truth.”
“Yes.”
Caleb turned away.
Rutherford looked at Eleanor.
“My offer stands.”
“No.”
“Even now?”
“Especially now.”
She moved toward the door.
Rutherford called after her.
“You think exposing all this will return what you lost?”
Eleanor stopped.
“No.”
She looked back.
“But it might stop you from taking anything else.”
Outside, Caleb said nothing for several minutes.
Then he leaned against the wall.
“My father’s last words.”
Eleanor stood beside him.
“He wanted you to know.”
“I spent months angry because he died before apologizing.”
“He did apologize.”
“To Rutherford.”
“No.”
Eleanor faced him.
“He said tell my son.”
Caleb closed his eyes.
She took his hand.
This time he held hers immediately.
Across the street, Sheriff Pike emerged from the shadows.
Caleb stared.
Eleanor did too.
Pike lifted a small notebook.
Rutherford had demanded no sheriff.
May you like
Eleanor had never promised.
And through the thin wall between the tavern rooms, Pike had heard almost everything.
