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Harrison McBride. He’d bet money on it.
He didn’t wait for an invitation, heading across the lobby and entering the dining room while the desk clerk shouted in protest. When he reached the table, he pulled out a chair and sat down without a word.
Harrison McBride was everything he would never be. Rich and refined with an air of superiority that some men had with little to no effort on their part.
The man wiped his mouth on the napkin by his plate and laid it back down before inclining his head to the waitress. When she walked away, he turned to him and said, “How can I help you, Mr.?”
“Hilam. Aaron Hilam.”
“Mr. Hilam, what can I do for you?”
Ben was right. Harrison McBride seemed like the pleasant sort but something told him that behind those smiling eyes was a shrewd businessman who got exactly what he wanted. “I wanted to talk to you about Betsey Atwater.”
He smiled. “Ah, the beautiful nightingale, Elisabeth.”
“No one calls her that.”
“That’s a shame. But, we’ll remedy it soon enough. Once she hits my stage, Elisabeth Atwater will become a household name.”
Not if he had anything to do with it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper he’d received from the telegraph office that morning and the one he’d written and signed, being witnessed by Marshal Avery himself. His future lay in those two slips of paper, the promissory note and the accounting from the bank in Missoula of the fund’s transfer, and he was about to give it all away.
Aaron smoothed the papers out, laid them down, and slid them across the table. “I believe that covers the amount you quoted Ben and Betsey last night. The money is being wired to the bank in Missoula on Friday. From there I’ll make arrangements to have it wired wherever you’d like.”
That smug look on Harrison McBride’s face was gone in an instant. He stared at the papers before him, his eyes darting across the words several times before he looked up. He smiled, but just barely. “Well, seems as if I’ve been proven wrong.”
“About what?”
Harrison picked up his glass and took a sip before setting it back down. “I didn’t honestly think they’d come up with the money. Why you’re delivering it, is a puzzle though. How do you know the Atwaters?”
“We’re old friends.”
Harrison studied him for long moments, then smiled. “More than friends with my songbird, though, right?”
He nodded. “She’s not yours, but yes, more than friends. We’re going to be married.”
Harrison stared at him long minutes then smiled. “Let me guess. Young Samuel is your son?”
“He is.”
Harrison glanced down and tapped a finger on top of the telegraph. “And this?”
“I was going to buy a piece of land and build a house for Betsey.”
“And now you’re giving it to me to keep your girl, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And they say true love is a myth.” Harrison smiled and took the promissory note and telegraph and folded them, tucking them into the breast pocket of his coat. “Tell Miss Atwater if she’s ever in San Francisco, to come to The Garden Theater. There will always be a place for her there.”
“The contract?”
“Null and void. I’ll burn it once I get back to my room.”
The words were strained but Aaron didn’t care how much they hurt for him to say them. He’d said them and that’s all that mattered. Harrison picked up his fork and continued eating, dismissing him without another word, not that he cared. Aaron stood and slid his chair back under the table, meeting Harrison’s gaze when the man looked up. “I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure but, seeing how you have my future in your coat pocket, I can’t say that it has.”
He left without another word, stepping out onto the sidewalk with a mix of emotions. Betsey was no longer under obligation to Harrison McBride but his land with the mountain and creek view was gone. He was back to nothing.
He sighed and stepped off the sidewalk, heading back to the livery stable to fetch his horse. Even though it wasn’t what he really wanted, Noah’s offer of the track of land on the edge of his property was still there. The mountain view was obscured by trees but a small part of willow creek ran along the backside of the property. It would take a lot of work to cut a trail out through those trees but if Betsey agreed to marry him, he’d build along the creek and make the best of it. As long as he had her, the rest wasn’t important.
