Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) (31 page)

BOOK: Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1)
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“Are you joking right now?” James asked. “We don’t have time for this kind of foolishness.”

“Nate, you can’t be serious,” Melanie said. “You can’t just steal the money.”

“We’d pay it back,” Nate said. “Over time, we’d save up little by little and when we have all the money, we’ll drop it off at the bank and be done with the matter.”

“I’m not going to become a criminal,” James said.
 

“You don’t have to! I will.”

“And your mother and I would be accomplices,” James continued. “We aren’t having this discussion.”

“Then it will be one of the last discussions we’ll ever have because Scruff’s gonna kill you.”

Nate’s words stung Joe, and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, but the thought of losing his father was too much. He buried his head in his pillow as the first tear starting falling down his cheek, though he kept an ear toward the door.
 

“You know what they do to bank robbers?” James asked. “They hang them. Do you think that would be a better fate?”

“They only hang the ones they catch,” Nate said. “Our bank is an easy target. No one will ever know it was me.”

“I told you, we aren’t having this discussion. I’m going to talk to Scruff myself and see what we can work out.”

There was another long silence before Joe heard anyone speak again. This time it was Nate.
 

“Well, I’m not gonna let you go by yourself,” Nate said.
 

“I can’t let you go with me.”

“You can’t stop me. I’m a grown man. I can do as I please.”

The next day was a Saturday so there was no school. The frost on the ground looked like snow in the morning, but Joe knew it would disappear by midday. The entire family was already up and eating breakfast when Joe walked to the fire to warm his hands, a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He knew what all of them were thinking about, and he wondered if they suspected him of listening in.
 

“Come and get you some breakfast, Joe,” Melanie said.
 

He walked barefoot toward the table, his toes feeling like little icicles. He should have been wearing socks, but he liked to be barefoot as often as possible and this was a fact that drove Melanie Cole mad. But this morning she didn’t scold him. She simply scooped a ladle of grits into a bowl, staring down at the table as if she were afraid.
 

Joe knew she was afraid. She was afraid of the same thing he was afraid of—losing his father and brother. Joe wondered when the two of them planned to meet with Scruff, or if they had decided something different altogether after Joe had fallen asleep. He dared not ask for he didn’t want to give himself away, but their decision was the cause of a burning fire of curiosity within him that could only be put out by more information. And like a pail full of water, James rushed to the rescue with only a few words.
 

“Your brother and I are going into town to do business this morning,” he said. “I want you to stay here with your mother and help her around the house.”

Normally chores were the last thing Joe would have wanted to do, but he only nodded and refused to argue. James didn’t need any added stress from him.

“Yes sir.”

He stuffed a spoonful of grits into his mouth and immediately wished they had some butter. His eyes caught Nate’s and his brother stared at him as if he suspected something. They were narrow and mischievous again.

“Now that ain’t right, is it?” Nate said.

“What ain’t right?” Joe asked, shoveling another bite.
 

“I’ve never seen you so quick to say
yes sir
about chores on a Saturday. Something’s going on.”

“Ain’t nothing going on,” Joe said, looking away from Nate.
 

“Yeah there is. You were up listening to us last night, weren’t you?”

“I was not!” Joe nearly shouted. He could feel his cheeks burn red and he saw that everyone’s eyes had fallen on him. “I was in bed the whole time. I can’t help it if ya’ll talk loud enough for me to hear. What was I supposed to do, sing?”

“It would have been better,” James said. He took a deep breath. “No matter. It’s probably best that you know anyhow. Just don’t go spouting all of this to your friends. What happens within this family stays within the family, understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“It’s just a small misunderstanding,” his father said. “Nate and I will get it sorted out this morning.”

Joe didn’t know what made him say it or why he thought it was a good idea, but before he could stop himself, the words just poured out of his mouth. “I think your chances are better with Nate robbing the bank.”

It was James’ turn for bright red cheeks. Joe could tell that he was angry, but apart from the color variance, he did nothing. He only said, “Your brother comes up with crazy ideas sometimes. Pay no mind to him and you’ll do all right.”

“Pay no mind to your father and you might be able to afford a tiny farm,” Nate said.

Joe nearly dropped his spoon when Nate said this, and even Nate acted a little uncomfortable after the words came out. Where he’d gotten the guts to say such a thing to his father
about
his father was beyond Joe.
 

But James didn’t turn red this time. He didn’t yell or scream. He simply sat back in his chair and took a deep breath.
 

Melanie was the one to come to his defense. “You know, Nate,” she said, “one day I hope you find something that you love to do and you pursue it like your father has. For all the years you and your little brother have been alive, we’ve all been fed well. He fought for a career that he loved and he’s made sacrifices. We’ve both made sacrifices for the two of you. We both love you dearly and have always done what we thought was best. I think you should show more respect and be more thankful of what your father has done for you. You may not have gotten to finish college, but you got a lot farther than most ever do.”

“Melanie,” James said, shaking his head. “It’s all right. Nate’s right. I haven’t been the best with our finances. I should have focused more on the farm instead of my books.”

“I disagree.”

James shook his head. “We don’t even have butter for the boy to put in his grits,” he said motioning to Joe. “We don’t have money, Melanie. Worse than that, we’re in the hole a lot of money.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Nate said, his voice thick. “I’m sorry.”

Joe looked up from his bowl to see his mother with tears falling down her face. When he looked at his father, there were tears in his eyes too. Nate was stone faced, but not angry. He seemed as shocked as Joe about all the emotion at the table. But this only made Joe feel more afraid.

Melanie didn’t make Joe do too many chores, though she kept busy most of the morning. She hummed the same tune over and over no matter what she was doing. For an hour, the tune never changed. Joe couldn’t place the sound. Perhaps it was a song he had heard at church once, or maybe it was an old lullaby from her youth. Whatever it was, it sounded happy and hopeful. Though, she didn’t seem happy or hopeful. Anxious was more like it.
 

Joe resigned to sitting on the front porch of the house, waiting for his father and brother to come riding back. Joe wasn’t sure where Scruff lived, but he couldn’t be too far.
 

The sound of the squeaking front door startled him. He looked back to find his mother sweeping dirt and crumbs from the kitchen to the porch and then to the yard. When she finished, she pulled her shawl close to herself and shivered.
 

“How you can bear to sit out here in this bitter cold is beyond me Joseph Cole. And without shoes no less! Get inside. Get your shoes on.”

Her tone carried a harshness to it that didn’t scare Joe, but compelled him to obey. He didn’t realize how cold he had become until he walked inside and the fire toasted his skin almost immediately.
 

“How long do you think they will be gone?” Joe asked.
 

Melanie shook her head. “I wish I knew. I wish they were back. I wish they never went.”

Joe wanted to tell his mother that everything was going to be fine, but he knew better. They both knew this was a dangerous situation. There was no point in trying to build confidence. It was better to change the conversation.

“You know,” Joe said, “it’s my birthday coming up soon.”

“I know,” Melanie said, sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace.

“I don’t want nothing for my birthday this year,” he continued. “I just want a good snowstorm.”

“Snow storms can be dangerous,” she said.
 

“Yeah, but then I could build a snowman and practice throwing rocks at his head.”

An unexpected laugh burst from Melanie’s lips. “And what, pray tell, would you need to practice that for?”

“You know, in case I ever need to defend the house and I can’t get to a gun.”

Melanie shrugged. “I suppose then it would be nice to have a good throwing arm. But you already have a good throwing arm. I saw you playing ball with the boys at school. You could throw farther than any of them.”

It wasn’t true. Joe was smaller than most of the boys at school, and there were at least five of them who could throw a lot farther than he could. But no doubt his mother only saw Joe when she looked at a group of children. Her compliment made him blush and he turned back to the fire.
 

“I guess if it don’t snow, I’ll be okay with that too,” he said. “Maybe just have a day off from chores.”

“You barely have chores to do around here anyway, Joe. This is the only year we have had so much work to do.”

“Yeah, and for my birthday I’d like a day off,” he said with a grin.
 

“And what would you do with your day off?”
 

“Go swimming,” Joe said.
 

“In the middle of February?” She shook her head. “I don’t doubt that you’d do it. You’re just crazy enough to.”

Joe was about to say something back when he heard the neighing of a horse outside. Both he and Melanie jumped from their seats and ran to the door. When they opened it, they found Nate and James both riding slowly through the cold air toward the house. Melanie stayed on the porch, but Joe charged out into the yard to meet them. He ignored his mother’s calls about putting on shoes. When he got to the horses, the questions flew from his lips.
 

“What happened? Did he threaten you? Do you still have all your toes? Did he give us more time?”

“Hang on, little brother,” Nate said as they dismounted.
 

Joe knew he wouldn’t get any answers until everyone was in the house and warm.

The chairs in front of the fire were filled by Nate and James, while Joe and Melanie sat at the kitchen table waiting patiently.
 

“He didn’t say much,” James said.
 

“So you did meet with him?” Joe asked. “What’s he like?”

“Scary,” Nate said. “Ugliest son of a…” He paused and looked at his mother. “
…gun
I’ve ever seen.”

“What happened?” Joe knew he was being impatient, but his father didn’t seem to take notice. He simply answered the questions he was asked.
 

“We went up to his house, sat in his office and explained the situation,” James said. “He took it all in and didn’t even ask any questions. He just looked at us and said that it was okay.”

“What?” Melanie seemed shocked.
 

“Yeah,” James said. “He said it was all right. We didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“I don’t understand,” Melanie said.
 

“At first I didn’t know what to think until Nate here talked some sense into my head.”

“I think he’s planning to punish us,” Nate said. “The man’s cold. He ain’t known for mercy like that.”

“Maybe he’s had a change of heart,” Melanie offered.
 

“Or maybe he’s planning a good way to kill us,” Nate countered. He shook his head. “I’m telling you, you should have let me rob the bank.”

James looked at him sharply. “I told you not to bring that up again. It’s not an option.”

“So what are we going to do?” Joe asked.
 

“Before I left, I told him that I’m willing to work out some sort of payment plan—something that can get us through the year. He told me not to think of it.”

Had they dodged a bullet? Had Scruff gone soft? Everything Joe ever knew or heard about Scruff Thompson was now shattered. That was unless what Nate said was true. What if he was just being cold and heartless with a plan to punish them—to send a message to others who borrowed without the ability to pay it back?

“All we can do is live as we do,” James said, looking up to meet Joe’s eyes. “I’ll continue my writing and farming and you continue doing well in your schoolwork.” He looked at Nate next. “And you work on marrying that girl you’ve always dreamed about. You get yourself a job and make your own way in the world. That’s all any of us can do. Make our own way.”

“And what if Scruff comes?” Joe asked.
 

James sighed deeply, but ended the breath with a smile. “Hopefully that won’t happen.”

Abigail Stephens sure was the prettiest girl Joe had ever seen. When Nate came riding up to the cabin with her next to him, arm-in-arm, Joe couldn’t help but wonder how his brother had gotten so lucky. Her golden, curly locks fell down perfectly to her shoulders. She wore a big blue dress that was the same color as the sky. She was wrapped in a shawl and blanket to shield herself from the bitter cold as they rode along in the wagon, but she never let the weather keep her from smiling. This was what Joe liked the most about her. Her smile was as perfect as he’d ever seen.
 

He supposed Nate had a certain charm about him. Despite being poor, he had been able to woo her and probably compliment her so much and in such a way that she was always on the brink of fainting. Nate had the ability to speak as a poet and make girls swoon—a gift Joe didn’t particularly want to possess.

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