Chapter 9 - The Offer Eleanor Could Not Afford to Refuse
The formal review would take place February twenty-sixth.
Twelve days before the contract ended.
Rutherford had petitioned for the earlier hearing on the grounds that Consolidated Mining needed certainty before spring operations.
Caleb read the notice twice.
Then folded it carefully.
“What does this change?” Eleanor asked.
“Nothing legally.”
“That means something practically.”
“It means Rutherford thinks he has evidence.”
Brooks nodded.
“He’s bringing witnesses.”
“Who?”
“He hasn’t filed names.”
Eleanor immediately thought of Silver Hollow.
The tavern.
The laughter when Caleb said, You’ll do.
Everyone there had seen the contract.
Anyone could describe exactly how their marriage began.
Brooks left before dark.
The next morning another visitor arrived.
Horace Whitmore.
Alone this time.
Caleb reached for his coat.
Eleanor stopped him.
“I’ll handle it.”
Horace stood on the porch.
“I came to talk privately.”
“You can talk here.”
“Without your husband?”
Eleanor nearly smiled at the irritation in his voice.
“He is my husband.”
Horace glanced toward the cabin.
“So you’ve begun believing it.”
“What do you want?”
He removed an envelope.
“Your father’s remaining debts.”
Eleanor opened it.
The total made her stomach drop.
One hundred eighty-three dollars.
Most were old business obligations.
Several carried her signature.
“This can’t be right.”
“It is.”
“You took the store inventory.”
“It didn’t cover everything.”
“You took the house.”
“The house was collateral.”
She looked at him.
“You knew about these debts when you threw me out.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I hoped you’d come to your senses.”
“Meaning?”
“Depend on family.”
Eleanor laughed bitterly.
Horace lowered his voice.
“Rutherford will pay all of it.”
There it was.
“In exchange for what?”
“You leave Morgan before the hearing.”
“No.”
“He only needs one fact: that the household ended before review.”
“No.”
“You would be free.”
“I am free.”
“Are you?”
Horace looked past her.
“You cook his meals. Wash his clothes. Live miles from anyone. How is that different from servitude?”
“Because I chose it.”
Horace shook his head.
“You were desperate.”
“Yes.”
“And he took advantage.”
Eleanor’s anger sharpened.
“No. He offered terms when nobody else offered anything.”
Her uncle leaned closer.
“If Rutherford wins, Morgan loses the land and you still owe these debts.”
“I’ll manage.”
“With what? Your final payment?”
That struck home.
Two hundred dollars.
Almost exactly what she owed.
Meaning when the contract ended, nearly everything she had hoped to save would disappear.
Horace saw her reaction.
“Leave now. Rutherford pays the debt. I’ll return your mother’s jewelry.”
Eleanor froze.
“You have it?”
“A few pieces.”
“You told me they were sold.”
“I was mistaken.”
Rage made her cold.
“What pieces?”
“Her locket. Earrings. The silver bracelet.”
Eleanor remembered each one.
Not expensive.
But her mother’s.
“You stole them.”
“I preserved them.”
“You lied.”
He extended the envelope.
“Take the offer.”
For one terrible moment Eleanor wanted to.
Not because of the money.
The locket.
She remembered her mother wearing it while brushing Eleanor’s hair.
Her fingers around it on the day she died.
Caleb appeared behind her.
He said nothing.
Horace noticed.
“Well?”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Then she tore the debt paper in half.
Horace stared.
“What are you doing?”
“You can send me another copy.”
“Nell—”
“And you can keep the jewelry.”
His face changed.
“You don’t mean that.”
“My mother taught me not to sell myself.”
Horace laughed.
“Isn’t that exactly what you did when you signed his contract?”
The words struck hard.
Caleb moved beside her.
Eleanor lifted a hand.
No.
This was hers.
She looked at her uncle.
“I accepted payment for three months of my time.”
Her voice stayed calm.
“You’re asking for my loyalty.”
Horace said nothing.
“That costs more.”
She shut the door.
Her knees nearly failed.
Caleb caught her elbow.
“I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not.”
The gentleness broke something.
Eleanor turned away.
“My mother’s locket.”
Caleb waited.
“He has it.”
“Then we get it back.”
“How?”
“I’ll buy it.”
“No.”
“It belonged to you.”
“I said no.”
“Eleanor—”
“I won’t let you solve every problem with the property.”
He stared.
“What does that mean?”
“It means this began as business. I will not become another obligation.”
His expression hardened.
“You think that’s what you are?”
“What else am I?”
The words hung between them.
Caleb took a step closer.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened.
Then he stopped.
Whatever he had intended to say disappeared behind fear.
Eleanor saw it.
And misread it.
“Exactly,” she whispered.
She walked away.
That night neither spoke.
But hours after Eleanor fell asleep, Caleb sat alone at the table staring at the contract.
At one sentence in particular.
Two hundred dollars upon completion.
For the first time, Caleb hated every word on the page.
Because it gave Eleanor an ending.
May you like
And gave him no right to ask her to stay.
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