Chapter 21

Charlie paced nervously as he waited for the train to arrive on the evening of June 2. His father would soon be in Cheyenne, and who could say how things would go after that? Charlie was hopeful, however, that after the long train ride his father would be tired, and they could put off discussing the bank until tomorrow.

There was a part of Charlie that missed his parents' home in Chicago. Truthfully, the time he'd spent there had been good overall. His mother was a gentle soul, whose faith in God led her in all decisions and actions. When people in her circle of society needed advice, they always came to Abigail Decker, including Charlie. His father, on the other hand, although a man of faith, was far more severe and stern in his guidance. There was little in the way of sympathy or understanding for mistakes made, which was the reason for Charlie's anxiety now.

He heard the whistle before he saw the train. The evening skies were still light, and as the steam puffed heavenward from the locomotive, it formed little clouds against the purplish-blue heavens. For a moment, Charlie thought of a painting he'd once seen with a similar setting. Then the train whistle blasted again, and all pleasantries faded. He drew a deep breath and steadied himself as the train came to a stop.

Lord, I need strength to deal with this moment. Help me, please.

Charlie watched as the depot personnel went to work, and the porter stepped from the train, then turned around to assist others.

At nearly seventy years old, Bertram Decker cut a fine figure. He stepped onto the platform and secured his hat before looking around to find Charlie. His suit was impeccable despite having traveled for hours, and he looked as spry as a man half his age. When their gazes locked, Charlie called out, "Father!"

Charlie came forward and impulsively gave his father a hug. "It's so good to see you again. I wish the circumstances could be better." He bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to bring up the problem.

His father patted him on the back and pulled away. "I hadn't expected such enthusiasm." He surprised Charlie with a smile. A genuine smile. "But it's good to see you too, Charles. Your mother desperately wanted to join me, but I assured her this was to be a very quick trip."

There were few people arriving on the train this evening. Charlie retrieved his father's small trunk without much of a wait and then led the way to the hotel. He had reserved a room at the nicest hotel Cheyenne had to offer and hoped it would meet with his father's approval.

Father glanced up and down the street. "I wasn't sure what to expect. Jacob made it sound like Cheyenne was the very pit of hell itself."

"Up until a few weeks ago, it truly could be called that. So much has changed, almost overnight. The railroad moved west, and so did a great many of the troublesome characters. Of course, they're still close enough to Cheyenne that many come back on the weekends. But as the bulk of the gambling houses, brothels, and saloons move with them, that will stop, and there will be nothing Cheyenne has to offer that the new end-of-the-tracks town won't give them. By the way, how is Jacob feeling?"

"Much better, but I don't see him returning to Cheyenne. As I conveyed, he didn't find it much to his liking."

They secured Father's room at the hotel and deposited his things before Charlie suggested they go to dinner.

"I'm sure you didn't have anything decent to eat on the train."

"No, that's true enough."

"We have several decent restaurants here. Belham's is probably the best. I made a reservation for us. It's just a few blocks from here."

"Then lead the way."

Charlie did just that, pointing things out as they walked. "The town is growing quite rapidly. In fact, they call it the Magic City because it sprang into being like magic. Men who followed the tracks west said it was unlike any of the other towns along the way. We have a great many stores established, mercantiles, hardware, clothing, bakeries, and such. There are still more saloons than churches, but the latter are coming along nicely. The church I attend meets at the local school, but they plan to start building next year. Oh, and there are hospitals and doctor's offices—we now have nine doctors—and of course several banks, including ours." Again, Charlie wished he'd not mentioned anything to do with the dreaded subject. He hurried to continue.

"There is a fort nearby. Fort Russell. The soldiers are often in town for entertainment. Most stay on the west side, which is the seedier part of town. However, there are those who are of a better class."

They reached the restaurant and were immediately shown to a beautifully set table. Belham's had fine linens for the tablecloth and napkins and uniformed waiters to see to the customers' needs.

Charlie and his father took a seat and placed their orders for the steak dinner and coffee. The waiter had just left when Dr. Scott passed by the table. Charlie got to his feet and introduced his father to the man.

"Dr. Scott is a physician as well as the lay minister at our church. Dr. Scott, this is my father, Mr. Bertram Decker."

"Mr. Decker, I'm pleased to meet you. I'm a big fan of Charlie's. His Sunday school classes have been well received."

"Charles is a capable teacher, I'm sure," his father replied. "It's nice to meet you, Dr. Scott. How does a doctor of medicine end up taking the pulpit?"

"Need necessitates strange choices. We actually have another man who preaches from time to time too. It won't be long before there will be a need to replace me as well. I have no intention of filling the job indefinitely. Right now, however, it seems necessary, and I do enjoy it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I only stopped in to check on the owner." Dr. Scott turned to Charlie. "You might remember he had a stroke last week."

"I do. It was quite a surprise."

Dr. Scott nodded. "Since he and his wife live above the restaurant, it was easy enough to see to him on my way home."

"And is Mr. Belham doing better?" Charlie asked.

"He is. I'm happy to say the stroke was only a minor one, and I expect a full recovery."

"That is good news. We won't keep you, then. Have a good evening, Dr. Scott."

"And you and your father also," the man replied before heading out.

Charlie and his father reclaimed their seats as the waiter arrived with their soup and coffee. Charlie placed the napkin on his lap.

"I'll say grace, if you like." His father nodded.

Charlie offered a short prayer aloud, adding additional words in silence that God might allow his father to enjoy his trip to Cheyenne and understand Charlie's heart about teaching.

Father was already sampling the onion soup by the time Charlie picked up his spoon. He seemed pleased by the taste and gave a nod.

"Quite good. Better than I figured on getting."

"Belham's is the best. At least in my opinion. I don't eat out very often, but this is my first choice."

Father gave a quick glance around the large room. "As I mentioned, I wasn't at all sure what to expect. Jacob had given me insight into the town and the people, but he admitted the place was growing so rapidly that it would no doubt have changed a great deal by the time I arrived."

"They're pushing for this area to become a separate territory and, in time, a state. I believe given the railroad's actions in making Cheyenne their regional headquarters, there's a good chance Cheyenne will become the capital. After all, it is the main town for hundreds of miles around."

"It has been interesting to see the renewed push west after the war," Father declared. "As you know, it was your brother's idea to be a part of the westward expansion. Jacob believes there is a lot of money to be had, but I suppose he now realizes there's a lot to be lost as well. Why don't you tell me what happened? Start at the beginning."

Charlie had hoped to put off the discussion of the bank, but seeing his father was determined to know everything, he shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, you already know that Jacob left Jefferson Lane in charge of the bank when he returned to Chicago. When I arrived, I found Mr. Lane to be rather pretentious and self-serving. He clearly felt he should remain in charge and wasn't overly happy to see me. As I began to familiarize myself with the bank's records, I soon learned why. Jefferson had managed to embezzle nearly six hundred dollars. He took only a few dollars here and there, mostly from the wealthier depositors, knowing they would be less likely to worry over their totals being off by such small amounts. If anyone did question it, Jefferson must have either made it right and found another account to steal from or convinced the customer they were wrong."

"And this was going on from the time he was first employed?"

"As far as I can tell, yes. I confronted him about it, and he suggested Jacob had taken the money. I knew better and reminded Jefferson that Jacob had been gone for months and yet the embezzlement had continued. He had nothing to say. I fired him and told him I wouldn't press charges but expected him to return the money."

"You should have brought the officials into the matter immediately," his father said in a stern tone. "Criminals such as Mr. Lane have no conscience and will never endeavor to make such things right."

Charlie nodded and ate some of his soup. Finally, he put his spoon aside, sampled the coffee, and then continued. "My biggest mistake was in forgetting that Jefferson had keys to the bank. I just didn't think of it, and when he left in a huff, my mind was on other things."

He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "I am sorry, Father. I've never felt that I was called to be a banker, but this incident has made that even more clear to me. However, I want you to know that if Jefferson Lane and the money are not recovered, I will use some of my own inheritance to cover the loss. You aren't to blame for this tragedy."

His father finished his soup before speaking. "You have always been good about accepting responsibility for your mistakes, Charles. I have to say you do not disappoint regarding that matter. You never have."

He gave Charlie a look that could only be termed endearing. His reaction left Charlie momentarily speechless. He had expected his father to be quite disapproving and ready to point out all of Charlie's failings.

"You've also always been quite good at judging character. I'm impressed that you immediately sensed problems with Mr. Lane."

"His nature was off-putting, but I don't know that I would have thought him to be an embezzler had I not taken it upon myself to study the bank records. I thought that because the savings and loan was so new, reading back through the beginning transactions would help me to familiarize myself with the nature of the business done. I hadn't expected to find embezzlement."

"Nevertheless, you did a good job. The savings and loan here was always only an experiment in Jacob's interests with the West. I was never all that supportive, but the board felt it was worth checking into."

"I believe it is, if you are interested in my opinion," Charlie said. "Cheyenne is destined to grow, and here's why."

Just then, the waiter came to take away their soup. Without any delay, he returned with two large plates of food. He placed the dishes in front of the men and asked if they cared for anything else. Both men declined, and the waiter left.

Charlie picked up his knife and fork. The steak looked delicious, as did the potatoes and succotash. He decided to dig right in.

"You were going to share your opinion," his father said.

Pausing before cutting into the steak, Charlie nodded. "Just as I said. I believe the West is worth the interest. With the railroad connecting the eastern part of the nation with the western, people are going to be more inclined to settle the middle of the country. With the ending of the war, more and more people just long for peace of mind. Moving away from the battlefields and reminders of death and destruction has brought an influx of people that few could have expected.

"Added to this, they are now building a railroad line from Denver to Cheyenne, and as I understand it, we are soon to see ourselves a new territory of the United States. The growth will continue. There is no doubt. I see God's hand in it all."

"I could have figured on you to say something along those lines." His father smiled.

Charlie was again surprised by his father's actions. He'd never been one to smile so much in the past. At least not that Charlie remembered. Had something happened to mellow his father's more severe nature?

It was impossible not to say something. "You seem different, Father. Calmer. Less irritated. I have to say I fully expected your anger and frustration, yet here you are with a pleasant nature and smiles."

His father sobered. "I have been a bear to live with over the years. I've come to realize just how unpleasant I've been."

"And how did that happen?"

"Strangely enough by eavesdropping on one of your mother's teas. She had a small group of friends over one afternoon, and I had to interrupt them to retrieve something I'd left in the room where they were gathered. Your mother said something to me, and I reacted in my usual gruff manner. In my formal way, I acknowledged the women and made it clear I had no time for any of them. I don't even recall for certain what I said, but it wasn't charitable. As I left, I heard one of the women comment.

"She said to your mother, ‘Abigail, I do not know how you live with such a disagreeable man. Have you ever known a moment's happiness?'"

Father shook his head. "That gave me pause. It was rather like a punch to the gut. Your mother replied by telling them that while my nature was more bitter than sweet, they needed to understand that I was a good man who had been wronged."

Charlie narrowed his eyes as he tried to understand. "Wronged? In what way?"

His father chuckled. Another inconsistency with his nature. "That was what I wondered. I had thought to just move on to my business, but I was frozen in place. Your sweet mother then explained to her friends that I had been forced into banking by my very strict father. She went on to share that I had wanted nothing to do with banking, but rather had wanted to farm."

"Farm? I never knew that about you, Father." Charlie couldn't have been more surprised. The thought of his father out in the fields planting and harvesting was not a vision he'd ever considered.

"Few did, but your mother knew it and knew it well. She had walked the journey with me from the very moment when I decided that I had to do as my father bid me or suffer great consequences. She said that decision had robbed me of the joy and happiness life might have otherwise given."

Charlie had never heard his father ever once say that he didn't want to be a banker. All these years, Charlie had figured it was his father's passion. And in loving what he did, he had imposed it on his sons as well.

He looked up to meet his father's gaze, completely unsure what to say. Again, his father smiled. "You look completely baffled."

"I have to admit I am. I thought you enjoyed what you did. Banking had long been in the family, and I just presumed it was your choice. I thought when I found it tedious and boring that something was wrong with me. In fact, I fully planned to discuss my future with you while you were here. I wrote you a long letter, but then Jefferson stole the money, and Melody's father died."

"Melody?"

Charlie laughed. "That's an entirely different subject that we will definitely get to, but for now I have to say that after years of praying that you might understand my heart, I finally have hope that you do. You see, I want to be a teacher. I have been making plans to use my inheritance and build a small private school for boys. Around here there are so many children, and the public school has been overcrowded since its inception. I thought I could open my own school and teach maybe twenty or so to begin. I know it will never make me wealthy, but it is my passion and, I believe, my calling from God."

His father said nothing but cut into his steak.

Charlie couldn't bear the silence. "Did I offend you?"

Bertram Decker put his knife and fork down and met Charlie's concern with a clear expression of joy. "Quite the opposite, my boy. You've made me happier than I can say."

Charlie shook his head. "How?"

"You've finally taken a stand for yourself. For what's important to you. I've known for years that your heart wasn't in banking. Your brothers do seem to love it, and it makes me glad because I plan to soon be out of it altogether."

"You're resigning from the bank board?"

"Yes. Your mother and I discussed it, and it's time. After hearing her friends, I had a long talk with her. She was so supportive of my situation. Her words were nothing but kind and sympathetic. How deeply that woman loves me and for reasons beyond my understanding."

He picked up the knife and fork once more. "Let's eat, Charlie, and then we can discuss our plans."

Charlie's jaw dropped open. "You called me Charlie."

"That seems to be the name you prefer. I'd say it's about time I started listening to what pleases you rather than continue to impose my will upon you. Wouldn't you agree?"

Laughing, Charlie picked up his own silverware. "I do. It makes me happier than you could possibly know."

His father gave him a wink. "Oh, I think I understand pretty well."

Jefferson stepped outside into the sunshine. He walked to the small pen and lean-to where he'd put the horse. A nearby stream would supply the water, but Jefferson would have to carry full buckets to the trough in order to see the animal through the day. Thankfully there was also enough grain and hay left from their last trip that Jefferson wouldn't have to worry about feeding the animal for at least a week.

He had just come to the gate of the pen when he heard a noise off to his left. He glanced over, fearing perhaps a bear or other wild animal was upon him. The horse whinnied and took a little side step, furthering Jefferson's concern.

As the noise subsided, a different sound came from behind him.

"Jefferson Lane, hands up. You're under arrest by the authority of the Vigilante Committee of Cheyenne."

He slowly raised his hands as he considered making a break for it. If he could get beyond the cabin, there was a steep trail that led higher up into the mountain. He turned to find a man he didn't recognize coming forward with a rifle pointed at Jefferson's midsection.

"I've seen that look before. Don't even think of trying to run for it. You're surrounded. Come on out, boys!" the man called.

Men stepped out from the brush and trees. Jefferson could see they had fully encircled him. There wasn't any hope of escape.

"Roberts, go check the cabin and find that money. Davis, get the boy's coat and hat." Two men headed off to do the man's bidding.

"We're headed back to Cheyenne, Mr. Lane, where you'll stand trial for bank robbery."