The Problem Child (Emerson Pass Historicals 4) - Page 51

Viktor

The day before the Thanksgiving weekend festivities were to begin, I was finishing up paperwork at my desk when my boss sank into the chair across from me. Mr. Owens was a short man but made up for what he lacked in height with the girth of his belly. He always wore a black suit no matter the weather. A silver mustache coaxed into a pigtail-like curl with some kind of sticky ointment made it seem as if he were always smiling. Indeed, he was a jolly man with a heart as large as his midsection. I admired him tremendously, especially knowing he’d been handpicked by Lord Barnes himself to run our bank around the same time my parents came to Emerson Pass.

“Viktor, old boy. You’ve been smiling to yourself all afternoon. I know that look, having had it myself forty years ago for Mrs. Owens. Should I take it you’ve finally won Cymbeline’s affections?” Mr. Owens placed his arms over his stomach and peered at me from above his round spectacles that perched just above the bulge of his nose. His ruddy complexion, along with his suit, never changed with the weather. However, today a gray tinge made it seem as if he’d been dusted with ash.

“Sir, I do believe I’ve finally turned her head,” I said. “I’d like to ask her to marry me, but I have to get Lord Barnes’s permission first. Which, frankly, scares me more than a little. We both know I’m unworthy of her.”

“Nonsense. You’re a handsome feller with a fine head on your shoulders. A promising future, too, I might add.”

“It’s kind of you to say so. I hope Lord Barnes agrees.”

“I don’t think it’ll take much.” Mr. Owens tugged on one side of his mustache. The bags under his eyes had grown heavier over the last few months. “They’ve known you most of your life. Your family too. Good people. Lord Barnes knows that.”

I glanced at the clock. It was nearly five, almost time to close up for the day. “Mr. Owens, go home. I can close up without you. Surprise Mrs. Owens.”

“I’m dog-tired. Sadly, I don’t mean just today. I reckon, in general. I’m not getting any younger. The missus wants me home more. She’s afraid I’m going to keel over dead on her.”

“What are you saying?” I set aside the pen in my hand to peer at him more closely.

“I’m retiring, young man, and leaving you in charge. Got the blessing from Lord Barnes yesterday. We both believe you’re the one to take us into the future.”

“Me? But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“If that’s so then you’ve got me fooled. And if I’m fooled then our customers sure will be too. You’ve got a way about you that instills trust. Keeping money in the bank makes a lot of folks real nervous, but you put their minds at ease. I’ve been watching you all these months, looking for some crack in you.”

“Crack, sir?”

“A crack in your integrity or good humor. Gosh darnit, there isn’t one. You’re as unflappably decent as any man I’ve ever met. Except, perhaps, Lord Barnes.”

“I’m flattered, Mr. Owens, but decency doesn’t run a bank.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s the very best quality to have.”

A rising panic had me blinking in rapid succession. “You’re not leaving right away, I hope? Please say you’re not.”

“No, we’ll have a transition, which will give me the time to teach you any details you need to know.”

I looked up when the front door opened, and Lord Barnes walked into the building. He wore a long black coat and top hat. Framed in the doorway, he seemed larger than life. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

I stood. He strode over to greet us with handshakes.

Mr. Owens asked us to join him in his back office. “We’ll keep an ear out for any visitors, but I expect we’re mostly done for the day.”

My stomach fluttered with nerves as I followed the two men into Mr. Owens’s office. I sat in one of the customer chairs next to Lord Barnes, who had taken a moment to remove his coat and hang it next to Mr. Owens’s on the hook attached to the wall.

The office was bare of any decoration, leaving only a desk and a notebook. Crude wood filing cabinets lined both sides of the room with details of loans and accounts. Our vault was downstairs. On my first day of employment, Mr. Owens had taken me down to show it to me, as well as teach me the combination for the lock. My heart had pounded and my palms sweated. I’d thought they were foolish to give a kid like me all this responsibility and trust until I’d remembered I was a grown man. I’d trained for a job just like this one. Still, I’d been as nervous as a cat in the presence of a coyote.

“Lord Barnes has come by to discuss our transition,” Mr. Owens said as he settled behind his desk.

“Lord Barnes, respectfully,” I said, “are you sure this is a good idea? I’m still green, as they say.”

“We’re quite sure,” Lord Barnes said in his clipped English accent. “But there are a few things for which we need consensus. Succinctly speaking, we’re dedicated to the idea that we run things our own way, without interference from the government.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. When I’d come to work here, I’d quickly realized that all money in Emerson Pass led back to Lord Barnes. As the town grew, so did his wealth. By giving loans to businessmen and property buyers with low interest rates, his wealth may not have grown as quickly as other lenders, but he didn’t seem to care.

“We don’t want anyone telling us who we can or can’t give loans to,” Lord Barnes said. “Or making interest rates so high that regular chaps can’t make their payments. That’s not how one builds community.”

I nodded in agreement but held back from another “yes sir.” As much as I was in awe of Lord Barnes, I didn’t want to sound like a boy instead of a man. If I were to be given this responsibility, I would have to act confident. Even if inside I was back to being that cat staring down a coyote.

“We don’t want to get mixed up with all that Wall Street nonsense,” Lord Barnes said. “The crashes earlier in the decade gave me great pause. I sold everything I had and reinvested it in land and other businesses. The stock market is too volatile for me. We like to keep things local here in Emerson Pass. What do you think, Viktor? Can you do business that way?”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

“Good. Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s talk about the future. Come out to the house for dinner tonight. We can go over a few things.”

“I’d be happy to,” I said. “Thank you. Thanks to both of you for believing in my abilities.”

“We know you won’t make us rue the day.” Mr. Owens sat back in his chair and placed his hands over his stomach. “I’ll be happily retired but also available if you ever need anything.”

“Thank you, Mr. Owens.”

We talked for another half hour about details and how much time I would have to absorb everything Mr. Owens knew before he handed it all over to me. By the end, my head felt as muddy as one of our country roads at springtime.

Finally, Lord Barnes clapped my shoulder. “Come out tonight about seven. We can toast to your new position.” I exchanged a glance with Mr. Owens. He gave me an encouraging nod. This was the sign from God I’d been looking for. The opportunity to formally ask Cymbeline’s father for his blessing.

“I’ll be there. I’d appreciate it if I could have a moment alone at some point in the evening. There’s something I’d like to ask you.” I cleared my throat. “Of a personal nature.” I swallowed and folded my hands together to keep them from shaking.

Lord Barnes gave me a long, hard look. “I’ll look forward to it.”

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