A Moment in Time (2 page)

For several minutes the conversation waned. Marty finished her bowl of stew, and though she could easily have eaten more, she settled for what she’d eaten. Jake would need another serving, and there wasn’t much left.

“I hope you won’t mind,” Jake said, putting his spoon in the empty bowl, “but I arranged with a man today to take some of the furniture from the house. He’ll be by tomorrow to crate it off.”

“Let me refill that for you, Mr. Wythe,” Alice said, jumping up.

“Thanks. I have to say it makes a mighty fine meal on a cold night.” He smiled at the younger woman and then looked back to Marty. “Anyway, like I was sayin’, he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Marty tried to hide her frown. She knew this was probably a sign of things to come and didn’t like it. If Jake felt it necessary to sell furnishings, he’d probably had his salary reduced once again. She tried to force a smile. “I think that sounds wise. We certainly don’t need so much stuff. With winter nearly upon us I thought perhaps we should close off the third floor all together. Alice can sleep in one of the second-floor bedrooms. It should help dramatically with the heating.”

“I agree,” Jake replied as Alice placed the bowl of stew in front of him. “Thank you, Alice. Next time, though, I can just fetch it myself.”

Marty turned to Alice. “Jake and I were just talking about closing off the third floor. It’s hard enough to heat the downstairs bedrooms, and we figure it will save on the overall heating of the house. You can take one of the second-floor bedrooms in the same wing as ours. That way we can also close off the other unused rooms.”

Alice nodded. “That’s perfectly acceptable to me. I’ll arrange it tonight. Did I also understand that Mr. Wythe is selling off furniture?”

“Yes.” Marty looked to her husband. “Just some of the things we don’t really need.”

It wasn’t the first time Jake had sold something from the house. In the beginning he’d only handed off his own meager possessions for cash. Now he was actually going to sell things that could be considered as belonging to the bank.

Paul Morgan, the bank president and distant relative of J. P. Morgan, had presented the furnished house and mortgage to Jake, along with a promotion to bank manager. He had been carefully schooling Jake to eventually take a position of higher regard and wanted the Wythe family to be part of the socially elite. Marty couldn’t help but wonder whether the man would be accepting of Jake’s present plans, especially knowing they were months in arrears with the mortgage payment.

Jake had assured her that with his cut in salary, Morgan had promised that the mortgage would be covered by the bank as part of his pay. Marty didn’t say so at the time, but she’d never had a good feeling about this arrangement, since there was nothing in writing.

“Thanksgiving and Christmas are nearly upon us,” Jake declared. “It would be nice to have a little money so we can at least celebrate with a nice meal.” He once again smiled. “Not that this stew and bread isn’t just as satisfying. Even Cook didn’t make anything that tasted this good, but I thought maybe we could buy a ham or turkey.”

Marty remembered some of the outrageously rich meals they’d shared in the early days of her marriage to Jake. They weren’t even to their first anniversary, yet they’d gone from feast to famine. Marty’s sister, Hannah, had taught her that money would always be fleeting and a person shouldn’t ever put their trust in such a temporal thing. Even so, it was a very necessary thing, and Marty had to admit, she missed it.

“Can we sell the house?” Marty asked without thinking.

Jake said nothing for what seemed an awfully long time. “I’ve asked around, but no one is buying. No one wants a house that’s clearly above the normal man’s means.”

His serious expression gave Marty cause to wonder if there was more to it than Jake was letting on. “I didn’t know you’d asked around.”

“I was plannin’ on tellin’ you about it,” he admitted, “but only if it looked like a real possibility. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“I see.” Marty looked to Alice and then back to her husband. She offered him a smile. “I guess that isn’t what God wants for us then. If He had plans for us to sell this place, then He’d also send a buyer our way. We’ll just have to trust that He has something else in mind.”

“I agree,” Jake said with a tired sigh. “In the meantime we’ll just sell what we have to and get by the best we can.”

“Living frugally is something I know very well,” Marty assured him.

“Me too,” Alice agreed.

Jake nodded. “I know. But . . . I . . . well, it’s not what I wanted for any of us.” He looked as if he might say something more but got to his feet instead and once again smiled. “I sure didn’t mean to put a damper on supper. I’ll stoke up the fire in the sitting room and maybe we can retire there. Then I’ll read the Scriptures before we head upstairs.”

Marty said nothing to Jake, but once he left the room, she turned to Alice. “Something’s not right. There’s more to this than he’s saying.”

“Maybe he’ll tell you later tonight . . . in private,” Alice replied, gathering up the dishes.

“I’d just as soon he tell me now instead of letting me wonder about it.”

“Something else you might consider,” Alice said with a pause. “We could move our bedrooms to the first floor and close both the second and third floors.”

“There aren’t any bedrooms down here,” Marty said, and then it dawned on her what Alice was getting at. “But we have the two sitting rooms, the library, and the music room. We could certainly convert two of those into bedrooms. It’s not like we need them for entertaining.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll mention it to Jake. I think he’ll go along with it, as well. We’ll have to figure out how to get things moved around. I wish Samson were still with us.” Samson was the former stableman and driver, and Marty missed his presence when it came to moving furniture . . . and to intimidating the irritating Mr. Smith.

Marty helped Alice with the cleanup, but all the while her mind raced with thoughts of what was going on inside her husband’s head. It was only as they put away the last of the
clean dishes that Marty realized she’d said nothing to Jake about the reappearance of Mr. Smith.

I don’
t suppose now would be a good time to tell
him.

She looked at Alice and forced a smile. “Well, we might as well join Jake.” She pulled off her apron and hung it on a nail by the door.

“I’ll be there shortly,” Alice replied. “Let me put water on for tea.”

Marty met Alice’s gaze. The young woman clearly felt the tension. She had become Marty’s dearest friend, and yet there was still so much the two women kept hidden away. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe if the worst came about and they had to part company it would be easier to bear.

“I doubt it,” Marty muttered.

“What?” Alice asked.

Marty shook her head and turned for the door. “It wasn’t important. Just me grumbling. Tea sounds wonderful.”

She hurried away before Alice could press for more details. Sometimes life here was like juggling balls at a circus. Keeping everything in motion required not only skill but complete concentration. Unfortunately, Marty wasn’t at all certain that she had enough of either one to get through this crisis.

“What exactly are you saying?” Marty asked her husband. Just days earlier he had assured her there was hope for the bank and his position, but now everything had changed.

“I’m saying that as of today, I’m no longer employed. Morgan closed the bank. He’s taking what he can and reinvesting elsewhere.”

“But what does that have to do with us living here?”

Jake looked her in the eye. “The house is in foreclosure. The bank owns it now. There’s nothing left for us to do but leave. I figure we can take what’s ours and head to Texas.”

“No! I’m not moving to Texas,” Marty said, a little angrier than she’d intended. “I don’t understand any of this. Mr. Morgan didn’t even give us a warning. He said that everything was fine, that the house was included as part of your salary. How can that be changed now?”

“Sweetheart, I wish I had better news. Truly I do. But you can’t make something outta nothin’, and that’s all that’s left.”

“But it’s not right.” Marty began to pace. Surely this was
nothing more than another nightmare. She would wake up any moment now.

“Nothing about this financial mess is right,” Jake replied. “The government has devalued silver, the railroads are almost all in receivership, and the only man in the country with any ability to dig the government out of its grave is J. P. Morgan. I was told in strictest confidence that J. P. Morgan will most likely end up loaning the government money to continue running its day-to-day operations.”

“How can any one man be that rich?” Marty asked, sitting down rather hard. The news regarding the bank’s situation wasn’t unexpected, but she’d never anticipated that they would have to make an immediate move. Where could they go?

“I guess he played his cards right,” Jake replied with a shrug. “Mr. Morgan at the bank said J. P. Morgan is a financial genius.”

“Then perhaps he should share some of that genius with everyone else,” Marty said, shaking her head.

“It’s to his benefit to share his money and get some hefty interest payments on it,” Jake said. “But be that as it may, we have to make plans, Marty. I know life isn’t what you wanted it to be, but I have to go where there’s work. I have friends in eastern Texas, and you have family near Dallas. Between the two places, I ought to be able to find something.”

Marty felt discomfort in the pit of her stomach. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t they just go on living in Denver? Maybe she could get a job . . . and Alice, too. Alice would be happy to help, just to have a place to stay.

“We can get jobs here,” she told him, jumping to her feet again. “I’m sure there is something Alice and I can do. After all, we aren’t helpless socialites.” She walked back and forth
as she thought. “I can sew, cook, clean, take care of children. I’m sure to find something.”

“Well there isn’t much here for
me
,” Jake said. “I only know two things—banking and ranching.” He laughed. “Who would have thought a man could have two such opposite skills. My life ain’t exactly predictable.”

Marty stopped in midstep. “Jake, I know you understand my feelings about Texas. They haven’t changed.” She didn’t want to make him feel guilty for his plans, but she had to make him choose another path. “Why don’t you get in touch with my brother Andy? He’s ranching in Wyoming. You could write to him and see if he needs some help.”

Her mind whirled with thoughts. She didn’t want Jake to go back to ranching. The dangers were too high and the payoff too minimal. Even so, if she talked him into writing to her brother, that would at least give her a little time in which she and Alice might be able to secure jobs. If they were both working, maybe Jake could relax a bit and find some menial task to put his hand to. It was worth a try.

“I don’t know anything about ranching in Wyoming,” Jake replied. “I know Texas.”

“But ranching is ranching, isn’t it?”

He shook his head. “You know as well as I do that the elements are completely different. Now, stop with this nonsense.” He sounded firmer than he had earlier. “I’m gonna do what I can to support you. I figure you and Alice can stay here in Denver while I go to Texas. Once I get established I’ll send for you both.”

She looked at him in surprise. “And where do you propose we stay? You’ve already told us we have to vacate the house. I don’t see that affording us many choices.”

“Well, that’s what I really wanted to talk to you about.
See, I spoke with Mr. Brentwood at that orphanage you like so much. I happened to see him on my way home and told him what had happened. He suggested you and Alice could come stay at the orphanage and help out there in exchange for room and board. I told him I thought that would work well.”

“You decided that without even talking to me first?” she asked in a rage. She wasn’t really mad about the prospects of living at the orphanage. God knew she loved the children and was completely devoted to helping them through this bad time. She’d been sharing whatever she could with them ever since the country’s crisis began. What angered her most was that everything was spinning out of control, and she had no say in it.

“Marty, listen to me,” Jake said, coming to put his hands on her shoulders. She tried to move away, but he’d have no part of it and held her fast. “Marty, we aren’t the only ones sufferin’ here. The rest of the country is hurtin’, too. We knew it was only a matter of time.”

“For you to lose your job and the bank to close, yes. To lose our home and have to relocate to Texas, no. I didn’t bargain for that.”

He gave her a lopsided smile, which only served to irritate Marty all the more.

“None of us exactly bargained for any of this.” He sobered. “Now listen to me, please. I’ve been looking around the city for work since this summer. I knew there’d come a time when my job would be no more. There’s nothing here. There are hundreds—no, thousands of men without work. Denver doesn’t offer a whole lot of opportunities just now.”

Marty relaxed just a bit. “I know that. I’m not naïve.”

He nodded. “No you aren’t. You’re a reasonable woman when you want to be, and I need you to be that now. My
friends, the Vandermarks, live in eastern Texas and have a logging business. I figure they can hire me on for a time.”

“Logging? But that’s just as dangerous as ranching, maybe more so,” Marty countered.

Jake shook his head. “You can’t keep me from harm by hiding me from danger, Martha Wythe. I’m a man and I have to do what is right for me. I know you’re afraid. I know you hate Texas, although I don’t pretend to understand why.”

“But you’ve gone to college. You have an education. You should be one of the men helping to change this country and solve the problems we’re in. You don’t need to go back to branding and driving cattle to market. You’re worth more than that.”

“Now, wait just a minute, Marty. Are you suggesting that ranching is less important work than sittin’ behind a desk? ’Cause if you are, then I must disagree. You know full well that ranching is an honorable and necessary way to make a living. Some of the finest and smartest men I’ve known were ranchers. You’re just worked up because of the news, but I won’t have you talkin’ like ranching is somehow demeaning. You grew up with it, and it benefited you nicely. Kept you fed and clothed and in some ways brought us together.”

She started to speak, but he put his finger to her lips. “I know. You lost one husband to a ranching accident in Texas and you fear losin’ another. But, Marty, we both know that’s not the way things work. God is either gonna take me home or leave me here to work out livin’ my life. We’ve gotta trust Him for the answer.”

“I do trust Him,” Marty declared. “But I don’t trust that this is the right decision.”

“Because you don’t trust me?” he asked. His voice was full of sorrow.

Marty considered the question. Was that the problem? Did she lack the ability to trust Jake? To trust him to do the right thing for both of them? Jake had never done one thing to break the trust between them, while Marty on the other hand had lied about owning the ranch in Texas, about selling it back to her brother-in-law, about so much. Certainly she’d done her best to make up for it. She’d finally told the truth, and Jake had forgiven her and trusted her. Didn’t she owe him the same?

“I trust you,” she said, nearly choking from the emotions rising up in her. “It’s not about trust.”

“Isn’t it?” He studied her for a moment. “I love you, Marty. You know that. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, but you have got to let me be the man of this family and make decisions that I think are best.”

“But you don’t care about my desires,” she said. “If you did, you wouldn’t talk about Texas.”

“Texas isn’t the problem, Marty, and we both know it.”

She stiffened. “Meaning what? That I’m the problem?”

He shrugged. “As my grandmother used to say, ‘If the shoe fits, you might as well kick yourself with it.’ You know as well as I do that your brother-in-law and sister would have us back on the ranch in a heartbeat.”

“They’ve never said any such thing.” She pulled away. “You’re just assuming on their good nature.”

“I’m not assuming anything. I know from the way you’ve talked about them that they’re God-fearing people. They wouldn’t see you go in need, and because we’re married, they wouldn’t see me go in need, either. And I’m not talkin’ about a handout. I could work for them, Marty. I would work hard, and you could be back amongst your family again.”

Marty searched her mind desperately for some excuse to reject such a resolution. “And what . . . what of Alice?”

“She could come, too. You know that I care about what happens to her. She’s too young to be on her own. And that Smith character is just a step away from causin’ her harm. Think about that, Marty. Put your selfish desires aside and think about Alice. Texas could mean freedom for her. Freedom from the fear of Smith and his cronies.”

Marty hated being made to feel guilty for her fears. She bristled and narrowed her eyes. “Go then. Go to Texas or wherever else you choose. Just don’t expect me to follow.”

She left him staring after her and fled for the quiet of the kitchen. Shaking from head to toe, Marty hovered near the stove for comfort. But the heat hardly seemed to permeate her body. The cold she felt came from the inside and nothing could warm it.

The following day Marty allowed Mr. Brentwood to show her and Alice to a large room with two single beds.

“This used to be one of the rooms for the older children,” he told the ladies. “Of course those orphans are gone now. Some, as you know, to your sister’s place in Texas, and others . . . well, they were dispersed to the streets or wherever we could find temporary homes. Anyway, there used to be eight beds in here, but I had to sell some of those. Didn’t even get a pittance of what they were worth.”

Marty knew very well about the hardships Mr. Brentwood faced. The orphanage had once housed over fifty children and now maintained no more than fifteen. Even that number taxed Mr. Brentwood’s meager funds.

“I strung a rope in the corner from one wall to the other. It’s good and secure. I figured you could hang clothes from it or make a curtain for changing behind.”

“This looks fine,” Alice said, pulling Marty from her thoughts. “I’m sure we will be quite comfortable.”

Marty met the man’s worried look. “Yes. It will be fine.” She wanted to give him a smile of reassurance but had none to offer. Just that morning she had told her husband good-bye. She’d offered him neither her encouragement nor her love, and only now was beginning to feel guilty for her actions.

“Frankly, I’m glad to have your help,” Brentwood admitted. “I have plenty of room for you here. Even the food will stretch to include two more mouths. What I don’t have is time for all the needs of the children or money for staff. You will both be very valuable to me in that sense. With you here, I can leave you in charge while I go appeal in person to some of the churches and charities that have helped us in the past. There may not be much to be had in the way of donations, but anything is better than nothing.”

Alice stepped forward. “I have managed to secure a job waiting tables. It’s only part-time work and won’t pay very much. I’m happy, however, to contribute what I can to help with the food purchases for Marty and me.”

“That’s most generous, Miss Chesterfield.” Mr. Brentwood offered her a warm smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you two get settled in while I return to the classroom.”

Marty nodded but said nothing more. She looked around the stark room that would become her home for no one knew how long. Without thought, she plopped down on one of the beds. It wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable as the goose down mattress she’d shared with Jake.

“I suppose we could have it much worse.”

Alice turned and met her gaze. “Much worse . . . believe me. This is truly an answer to prayer, Marty. I know you aren’t happy about it, but at least we’re safe here. Mr. Brentwood
and the children will help keep us from being so easily accessible to Mr. Smith. With Mr. Wythe gone, we were bound to be vulnerable to Smith’s attacks.”

Marty knew the truth of it, but she didn’t want to admit it. Admitting it gave credence to Jake’s choice, and that was something she couldn’t do. He hadn’t cared about her feelings. He hadn’t listened to her pleadings or even taken into consideration her ideas for alternatives. It caused her great pain to know that her desires weren’t important to him.