Chapter 10 - Seven Days Until the Auction
Boston seemed louder than Clara remembered.
Carriages rattled across wet streets.
Factory whistles cut through morning fog.
Women hurried beneath umbrellas.
Clara stepped from the train carrying the same carpetbag she had taken west.
Yet she felt like a different person.
Mrs. O'Leary cried when she saw her.
“You look thin.”
“So do you.”
“Liar.”
They embraced.
Then Mrs. O'Leary pulled back.
“So?”
“So what?”
“Did you marry the farmer?”
Clara's face changed.
The older woman's smile vanished.
“Oh, Clara.”
“He died before I arrived.”
Mrs. O'Leary covered her mouth.
“Then why are you still in Kansas?”
“Ten reasons.”
By evening, everyone at the sewing shop knew.
Ten children.
The farm.
The debt.
The blizzard.
The bank fraud.
Mrs. O'Leary listened with tears in her eyes.
“You always did choose the hardest possible road.”
“I intended to marry one man and make biscuits.”
“That was never going to happen.”
Clara laughed.
She had missed this woman.
But she had not missed Boston.
That surprised her.
The next morning she met attorney Franklin Chase.
Henry's family matter was straightforward.
Henry's older brother had sold jointly inherited property after Henry died.
Under Massachusetts law, Clara was entitled to her husband's share.
“How much?” she asked.
Chase adjusted his spectacles.
“After fees and taxes, approximately nine hundred dollars.”
Clara stopped breathing.
Nine hundred.
More than enough to stabilize Bennett Farm.
“How quickly?”
“Two weeks.”
“I don't have two weeks.”
“Why?”
She explained.
Chase stared.
“You traveled west to marry a widower with ten children whom you had never met?”
“Yes.”
“He died.”
“Yes.”
“And now you're trying to become guardian of all ten?”
“Yes.”
He removed his spectacles.
“Mrs. Whitmore—”
“Miss Whitmore.”
“You are aware none of this sounds reasonable.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He sighed.
“I can advance five hundred against settlement.”
Clara almost cried.
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
She stood.
Chase raised a hand.
“There is a condition.”
Of course.
“What?”
“You sign final waiver permitting immediate settlement.”
“Fine.”
“You haven't heard the amount.”
“Five hundred saves a farm.”
“Nine hundred is yours.”
“Then why—”
“I said advance.”
Clara stared.
“All of it remains yours minus fees.”
She sat slowly.
“Why?”
Chase smiled.
“Henry was my friend.”
Clara's throat tightened.
“He spoke about you?”
“Constantly.”
Her eyes burned.
“He would have found this entire Kansas situation hilarious.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He once said you had a dangerous habit of adopting problems.”
Clara laughed through tears.
“Also sounds like him.”
The next afternoon, Clara received five hundred dollars.
She bought a return ticket.
Then a telegram arrived.
MERCY RIDGE.
FROM ELI BENNETT.
COME HOME NOW.
COURT MOVED HEARING.
VOSS SOLD CLAIM.
AUCTION IN SEVEN DAYS.
Clara felt the floor tilt.
She rushed to the telegraph office.
“Send this.”
ELI. HOLD ON. LEAVING TONIGHT. DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING. CLARA.
The clerk counted.
“Anything else?”
Clara thought.
YES. THIS MEANS YOU TOO.
The clerk looked confused.
Clara smiled grimly.
“He'll understand.”
Two days later, she arrived in Mercy Ridge.
No children waited at the station.
Her fear began immediately.
Dr. Mercer did.
He looked exhausted.
“What happened?”
“Voss sold his claim to an out-of-county company.”
“Why?”
“Because state investigators froze his assets.”
“To whom?”
“Prairie Land Holdings.”
Clara frowned.
“Who owns it?”
“No one knows.”
“Wade?”
“Probably.”
“Where are the children?”
“Farm.”
“Why aren't they here?”
Mercer's expression became strange.
“They don't know you're arriving today.”
Clara relaxed slightly.
“Why?”
“Eli told everyone you'd come when you came.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It wasn't meant to.”
They rode in his wagon.
When Bennett Farm came into view, Clara stopped breathing.
The children were repairing the porch.
Edward worked on the barn.
Ruth hung laundry.
Smoke rose from the chimney.
Life.
May saw the wagon.
“CLARA!”
Every child ran.
Clara barely climbed down before they surrounded her.
May slammed into her waist.
Ruth hugged her from one side.
Josie from the other.
The twins pretended they had not run fastest.
Eli stood back.
Clara looked at him.
“You sent a terrifying telegram.”
“Worked.”
She walked to him.
Then hugged him.
He froze.
For half a second.
Then hugged her back.
“Got the money?”
“Five hundred.”
His eyes widened.
“We're rich.”
“No.”
“We're less poor.”
“That is accurate.”
Edward approached.
“Glad you're back.”
“Thank you for keeping them alive.”
“Mostly they kept me alive.”
Eli muttered, “Barely.”
The problem awaited inside.
Prairie Land Holdings claimed it had purchased valid debt rights and filed for immediate auction under a separate commercial provision.
Judge Hollis had challenged it.
But state law was unclear.
The auction would proceed unless Clara obtained an injunction.
“How much does that cost?” Eli asked.
“Attorney says fifty.”
“We have it.”
“The filing costs fifty.”
“Oh.”
“Attorney wants two hundred.”
“Oh.”
Clara had five hundred.
Enough to buy food for months.
Repair the barn.
Purchase seed.
Or fight one legal battle.
She looked at the children.
“Fight.”
Eli nodded.
“Fight.”
They hired attorney Margaret Bell from Wichita.
A woman in her forties whom Harlan Voss described as “the most unpleasant lawyer in Kansas.”
Clara immediately liked her.
Bell read everything.
Then said, “You're in trouble.”
“Excellent.”
“The bank note may be forged. Voss's debt may be fraudulent. But Prairie bought the claim before final ruling.”
“Can they take the farm?”
“Possibly.”
“Who owns Prairie?”
“That is what we find out.”
“How?”
Bell smiled.
“We make them answer questions under oath.”
The hearing was set.
But the night before, fire broke out at Voss Land & Mercantile.
By morning, the building was gone.
Harlan survived.
So did most of his records stored elsewhere.
But one man disappeared.
Charles Wade.
His house stood empty.
Bank safe cleared.
Clothes gone.
Wade had run.
And three days later, a state investigator confirmed something worse.
Prairie Land Holdings had been incorporated by a proxy.
The beneficial owner was Charles Wade.
The man attempting to auction Bennett Farm was now a fugitive.
Clara assumed that would stop everything.
Margaret Bell shook her head.
“Fraud helps us. But the company still legally exists.”
“That's absurd.”
“Law often is.”
“How long to dissolve the claim?”
“Weeks.”
“The auction is in four days.”
“Yes.”
“So what do we do?”
Bell looked at the five hundred dollars Clara brought from Boston.
“If we cannot stop the auction...”
Clara understood.
“We buy the farm.”
“With five hundred?”
“Maybe.”
“Claim is over eight hundred.”
“If no one bids.”
“But someone will.”
“Harlan Voss.”
Clara stared.
“He wants the land.”
“Yes.”
“And now we know the railroad makes it valuable.”
“Yes.”
“Then we can't outbid him.”
“Probably not.”
The word Clara hated.
That evening she walked to Mary's grave.
Snow was melting.
Spring mud showed through.
Mercer found her there.
“You always locate me when I least want company.”
“I've noticed.”
He stood beside her.
“What will you do?”
“I don't know.”
“Good.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“You finally said it without acting as if it were a failure.”
Clara smiled faintly.
“I have five hundred dollars. Ten children. A farm headed to auction. A fugitive banker. A corrupt land claim and four days.”
“Yes.”
“Any medical solution?”
“Amputation.”
She laughed.
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“If the farm is lost, my offer stands.”
“Eleven people.”
“Twelve.”
She frowned.
“You're counting yourself.”
“I live there.”
Clara looked away.
“Daniel.”
It was the first time she used his first name.
He heard it.
“I cannot decide anything like that now.”
“I didn't ask you to.”
“Good.”
“I am patient.”
“That's unfortunate.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm beginning to suspect I need you to be.”
They stood quietly.
Then Eli came running from the house.
“Clara!”
“What?”
He held a newspaper.
“Railroad announcement.”
She took it.
The company had finalized the Mercy Ridge spur.
Construction would begin immediately.
Land values surged overnight.
Bennett Farm was no longer worth two thousand.
It might be worth five.
At auction, Clara's five hundred dollars would be useless.
The entire town now knew it.
And the next morning, strangers began arriving in Mercy Ridge.
Land buyers.
Speculators.
Investors.
Men who had never heard Jacob Bennett's name but knew exactly what his children owned.
Four days remained.
And for the first time, Clara understood that saving the farm would require more than money.
May you like
It would require the whole town to decide what kind of place Mercy Ridge intended to become.
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