Page 60 of Silver Lining
When the strength returned to her legs, she stood up straight and blinked at the bacon drippings on the stove shelf, then toward the sideboard where she kept the flour sack. She tried to think about gravy, but her heart and ears listened for Max's voice. Even so, she had the skillet out and on the stove before she realized the voices outside were too loud. Frowning, she hesitated, then moved the skillet off the heat and wiped her hands in her apron. All she had to do was stand in the door to the mudroom and she could hear Max and Shorty.
"I'm sorry, Mr. McCord. You got to know we wouldn't walk out on you if there was any choice."
Louise pressed a hand to her mouth, smothering a gasp.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd give me a few days to work this out." Anger shook Max's voice.
"There's nothing you can do. This ain't going to work out. The boys are cleaning the bunkhouse now.
We'll ride out after we finish the day's chores." A silence ensued, broken by the sound of throat clearing, spitting, and boot scuffing. "I'm sorry. I felt like I was part of this place. Wanted to watch it grow."
"If things change, there'll always be a place for you here."
"I hope they do change, boss. I surely do."
There was time for them to shake hands, time for Shorty to walk away before Max slammed into the house, strode past her, and dropped heavily into a chair at the table.
Louise poured a cup of coffee and placed it in his hand. "What was that? I heard the end of it, but not the beginning."
"The boys went into town last night to spend their wages and let off a little steam."
"And?"
"Nobody in town would take their money. They were either ignored or told to get out. They couldn't buy a drink or a woman, couldn't get a shave or a shine. No restaurant would serve them. The hotel told them to move on and use someone else's hitching rail. One of the sheriff's deputies followed them everywhere they went. Watching them and how they were treated. Smiling when it became apparent that Shorty and the boys couldn't buy the time of day."
"But why?" Louise's eyes widened and she spread her hands. "Why would any establishment turn away business?"
He stared at her. "Because the owners were told to."
"But who… ?"Then it came to her. "Oh." Silently she returned to the stove and poured another cup of coffee for herself.
"As long as Shorty and the boys work for me, they're pariahs in town."
Louise sat at the table and shoved back the hair falling across her forehead. "Surely Howard Houser doesn't hold the mortgage on every business in Fort Houser ," she said angrily.
"There's one bank in town, and Houser owns it. I've seen the file room. Hundreds and hundreds of folders. Mortgages, loans, investment accounts, savings, you name it. If someone makes a financial transaction, you can bet that Howard had something to do with it. If he doesn't hold the mortgage directly, he probably has dealings with the establishment's suppliers, and so on."
"The hell with him. We'll hire new hands."
"Who's going to sign on? The word will get out, if it hasn't already, that working for Max McCord is like working for free because no one in town will accept money from one of my hands. I might as well pay their wages in dried peas for all the good my money does them."
The ripples continued to widen, rolling outward from a moment on a mountainside above Piney Creek.
Swearing softly, Louise watched Max drag his fingers over the pits marking his jaw.
"Would it do any good to speak to Houser?" Even as she asked the question, she knew any appeal would be futile.
"Rouser knows what he's doing. The ostracism will continue until he decides I've been punished enough."
"This isn't fair," Louise said furiously. "If you won't believe me, then believe your ma. Livvy said you did the right thing. She knows what happened wasn't your fault."
"That was before anyone knew about Philadelphia 's pregnancy. The pregnancy is my fault. That's what Howard can't move past." He pushed a hand through his hair. "I'd feel the same if I had a daughter and some bastard got her pregnant."
Maybe Max did have a daughter, Louise thought, looking away from him. Maybe the child Philadelphia carried was a girl.
"Well," he said after a full minute. "I can't feed a herd by myself. And I know Howard Houser. If I spread my herd among Dave, Ma, and Wally's herds, their hands won't be able to buy so much as a plug of tobacco, either." He stared at a point in space, his face hard and resigned. "There's nothing to do but sell out. I'd rather sell the herd now than watch them starve over the winter."
"You're talking about giving up your ranch?"
