‘I don’t understand,’ he said.
‘Well, Pickett, it’s pretty plain. I have spent a week buying up every marker you owe in this state. That means I now hold the majority stock. I own the bank. And a packet it has cost me. All because of your daughter. Pretty, I’ll say that, but stupid. I don’t know or care who this other guy she’s met is, but you tell her to drop him.
‘She writes back to my son and admits she made a mistake. Their engagement resumes.’
‘But if I can’t persuade her?’
‘Then you tell her she will be responsible for your complete destruction. I’ll take your bank, I’ll take your house, I’ll take everything you’ve got. Tell her you won’t be able to get a cup of coffee on credit in this county. You hear?’
As he drove down to the highway Michael Pickett was a broken man. He knew Braddock was not joking. He had done this before to men who had crossed him. Pickett had also been warned that the nuptials would have to be advanced to mid-October, a month away.
The family conference was unpleasant. Mrs Pickett was accusatory and wheedling by turns. What did Linda think she was up to? Had she any idea what she had done? Marriage to Kevin Braddock would bring her, at a stroke, all the things others worked a lifetime to achieve: a fine house, spacious grounds to raise the kids, the best schools, a position in society. How could she throw it all away for a silly infatuation with an out-of-work actor pretending to be a frontier scout for the duration of a summer work assignment?
Two of her brothers who lived and worked locally had been called to attend. One suggested he go out to Fort Heritage and have a man-to-man talk with the interloper. Both young men suspected a vengeful Braddock could ensure that they too lost their jobs. The brother who spoke was on the state government payroll, and Braddock had powerful friends in Helena.
Her distraught father polished his thick-lensed eyeglasses and looked miserable. It was eventually his misery that convinced Linda Pickett. She nodded, rose and went to her room. This time she wrote two letters.
The first was to Kevin Braddock. She admitted she had developed a silly, girlish crush on a young wrangler she had met, but that it was over. She told him she had been foolish to write him the way she had, and asked for his forgiveness. She wished their engagement to resume and looked forward to becoming his wife before the end of October.
Her second letter was addressed to Mr Ben Craig, c/o Fort Heritage, Bighorn County, Montana. Both letters were posted the following day.
Despite his obsession with authenticity Professor Ingles had made two other concessions to modernity. Though there were no telephone lines to the fort, he kept in his office a radio/telephone powered by rechargeable cadmium/nickel batteries. There was also a postal service.
The Billings post office had agreed to deliver all mail for the fort to the office of the town’s principal tour bus company, and they had agreed to send the satchel of mail needing delivery with the driver of their next bus out. Ben Craig received his letter four days later.
He tried to read it, but had trouble. Thanks to Charlie’s lessons he had become accustomed to capital letters and even lower-case print, but the cursive handscript of the young woman defeated him. He took the letter to Charlie, who read it and looked at him with pity.
‘I’m sorry, Ben. It’s from the girl you took a fancy to. Linda?’
‘Please read it to me, Charlie.’
‘“Dear Ben,”’ she read, ‘“two weeks ago I did something extremely foolish. When you shouted to me from your horse, and I shouted back from the bus, I think I said that we could be married. Back home I have realized how stupid I was.
‘“In truth I am engaged to a fine young man whom I have known for some years. I find that I simply cannot break off my engagement to him. We are to be married next month.
‘“Please wish me luck and happiness in the future, as I wish to you. With a farewell kiss, Linda Pickett.”’
Charlie folded the lette
r and handed it back. Ben Craig stared at the mountains, lost in thought. Charlie reached out and placed her hand over his.
‘I’m sorry, Ben. It happens. Ships that pass in the night. She clearly developed a girlish crush on you, and I can understand why. But she has made her decision to stay with her fiancé.’
Craig knew nothing of ships. He stared at his mountains, then asked: ‘Who is her betrothed?’
‘I don’t know. She doesn’t say.’
‘Could you find out?’
‘Now, Ben, you are not going to cause any trouble?’
Long ago Charlie had had two young men come to blows over her. She found it rather flattering. But that had been then. She did not want her untamed young protégé heading into a fist-fight on account of a chit of a girl who had come three times to the fort to mess with his vulnerable affections.
‘No, Charlie, no trouble. Just curious.’
‘You’re not going to ride into Billings and start a fight?’
‘Charlie, I just want that which is mine, in the eyes of man and the Everywhere Spirit. As it was spoken long ago.’