Chapter 8

"I've selected five different fellas to pay court to ya," Da told Melody as she served their supper. "Ya can be considerin' each choice."

"Five? Well, I suppose that will be more than enough." She put a bowl of her father's favorite corned beef and cabbage on the table and took her seat. She began dishing up the food as her father sliced into the fresh loaf of soda bread.

"It's a variety, to be sure. Their ages range from yar own to about fourteen years older. All have good jobs, seem to have good reputations in the community, and find ya attractive."

Melody laughed. "Well, I suppose that's a good thing." She placed a bowl of food in front of her father, then dished up her own. Once that was done, she took a piece of bread offered by her father and set it beside her bowl to wait for him to pray.

"Oh, gracious Father in heaven, we thank Ya for all that Ya've given. Bless the food and the day that we might serve Ya faithfully. Amen."

"Amen," Melody replied. She took up the bread and began to butter it. "So when will we start to see these fellas paying court?"

"Yar first outin' is Friday the twenty-fourth. And the second is on Saturday the twenty-fifth."

That was barely a week. Melody cut her bread into four equal pieces and took a bite. She trusted that her father had found good men to consider, but the entire matter still made her uneasy. After all, this was a lifelong mate she was searching for. Could she really figure out who to marry in a little more than a month?

"I want to be warnin' ya about that Jefferson Lane, the fella at the bank. He's not to be trusted."

Melody pushed aside her concerns and looked at her father. "He wants to court me?"

"Aye. He came to see me." Her father sampled the corned beef and smiled. "Yar a good cook, daughter."

"I'm glad you like it." She waited a moment, then posed another question. "So what about Jefferson made you uneasy?"

"He's a liar. I could tell he was lyin' the minute he opened his mouth. He couldn't look me in the eye for long at all. I'm not sure what he's up to, but I'll not have him courtin' ya."

"That's just as well. He doesn't appeal to me at all. Whenever I go to the bank, he's all sweet talk and attention, but there's something quite unappealing about him."

"That's the devil in him. Ya cannot be courtin' Jefferson Lane without keepin' company with his master as well."

Da dug into the food with more gusto than Melody had seen in a while. She knew he'd lost quite a bit of weight since she was the one to take up his clothes. It did her heart good to see that he'd gotten his appetite back.

"Well, you needn't fear, Da. I will steer clear of Mr. Lane."

"I'm glad to hear it." He took a bit of coffee.

"I'm enjoying my new job," Melody said. "I've been able to help Mrs. Cooper with their garden. Of course, it's just getting started."

"Potatoes should have been in by St. Patrick's Day," Da commented.

Melody nodded. "I told her as much, but she wasn't too worried. She felt certain we'd have more than enough time for them to grow. Said some old-timer told her we'd be having a long summer."

Da seemed to consider this a moment. "That would please the railroad owners. They want very much for this railroad to be completed by next year or sooner."

"I read in the newspaper that the stretch that's coming up after the mountains is mostly desert-type land. Hot and dry. Full of snakes and other wild things."

"I heard it as well." Da dipped a piece of bread in the broth. "Such places are not a favorite of mine. I prefer the green."

"I do too. This area is as dry as I care for."

"The boys will have plenty to contend with as they build. I've heard there may be Indian troubles as well."

Melody shivered at the thought of her father and the others being under attack. So far the native peoples they'd encountered had been a mix of friend and foe. Sometimes the Indians would sneak into the camp areas to steal cattle. Just last year Cheyennes had placed a branch across the tracks, thinking to derail a locomotive engine. They had instead derailed a handcar and killed most of the repair workers who were heading out to tend to the tracks. Those were exactly the kinds of incidents that caused the railroad to bring in the army to keep the peace.

There had been more warnings as the railroad moved west. Melody had been concerned about attacks on the town of Cheyenne, but with Ft. Russell close by, most of the citizens felt that the Indians wouldn't chance an all-out attack.

Desiring not to dwell on the topic, Melody quickly spoke up. "I saw you had a letter from Ireland. Was the news good?"

"To me way of thinkin' it was. Me brother, yar uncle David, wrote with news."

"I'd love to hear about it." She hadn't been sure why Da had said nothing about the letter, but hopefully now she'd find out what it was all about.

"The family is good. They've been thriving. David's girls are all married now and have wee ones of their own. Liam and Seamus, me younger brothers, are doin' well with their families."

Melody had never met her uncles. She had, however, heard stories of Da's youth and the trouble he and his three brothers got themselves into. Usually, it ended in a huge brawl and even some nights spent in jail. She was glad her father had settled down to being a godly man who only fought when absolutely necessary.

"I'm glad they're all doing so well. Was there anything else?"

"There was, and I've been meanin' to tell ya about it," her father said, putting down his spoon. "Ya won't have known this, but me brothers and me shared in our da's business."

"A business? What kind?"

"A whiskey distillery. Ya know I had a problem with the stuff and me life was ruined at one time because of drink. When our da died and left us the business, I wasn't involved much. When I got right with the good Lord, I knew I didn't want any part of running it. I just felt it could lead me back to trouble. I picked up and moved to America instead. Last year, I finally wrote to me brothers and told them I'd like them to buy me out. The letter from David was an agreement to do so and told me they'd be arrangin' a transfer of money to America. I don't know all the particulars just yet."

"I had no idea." Melody wondered if her father's share would make him wealthy enough to stop working. With his back not yet improving, she worried he would just further irritate it if he hurried back to work. She thought of how she might pose the idea that he remain home for a longer recuperation.

"I never spoke of the business because it wasn't important to me. I never intended to be a part of it and didn't figure it mattered to us. However, the extra money will be somethin' I can leave to ya. It'll help ya after ya marry."

"I was just thinking it might help you, Da. Your back is still not healed, and who can say if it will be in another month. The money might allow you to rest and fully heal. I know you love what you do and the men you supervise, but you aren't a young man anymore."

"Aye, and that's for sure." He looked momentarily saddened by the conversation. "Those days are gone forever."

Melody didn't care for his melancholy tone. "Still, after a long rest, you might be just as capable as you've always been. I think the worst thing you can do is rush your healing."

"I'll give it a thought. In the meanwhile, this is one of the best suppers I've had in a while. It's been ages since we had corned beef."

She smiled at how quickly he changed the subject. "Yes, it's definitely been a long time."

Jefferson was more than a little excited when Melody Doyle made her weekly bank visit. He poured on the charm, hoping she would find him appealing and encourage her father to let him court her.

"You're looking quite lovely today, Miss Doyle," he said, greeting her at the door. "I must say that shade of blue does wonders for your eyes."

She offered him a smile. "Thank you, Jefferson. You're looking quite dapper yourself."

He grinned. This was a new suit, and he'd hoped she might notice it. "It's the finest cloth to be had. I arranged for it to be custom-made."

"Well, it certainly looks to fit you." She drew out cash from her handbag. "I've come to make a deposit in our account. Now that I'm working, I'm hoping to build up our savings again."

Jefferson took the money and moved to stand behind the teller's cage. He proceeded with the transaction, hoping to engage her in talk of a night out soon.

"I spoke to your father. You know, about the arrangement to court you."

"Yes, I'm fully aware of the arrangement." She offered nothing more.

"Well, I was just thinking we could perhaps take dinner together one night next week."

"Not unless my father has approved it. He's already arranged for me to go out on Friday and Saturday. You would have to speak to him."

Jefferson frowned. "I did speak to him. I thought once we had discussed my intentions, I would be free to pay you court."

"No, Da doesn't do things the conventional way. Goodness, if he did, he wouldn't have advertised for a husband." She toyed with her purse. "Da has his own ways and reasons."

"Did he say anything about me?"

"He said you came to see him. Otherwise, Da hasn't told me much about any of the would-be suitors. That's also his way."

Jefferson counted out the money she'd given him and had her sign a receipt. After giving her a copy, he quickly went back to the topic at hand. "I don't understand. Will he contact me, or will I need to see him again?"

"I would imagine you'd need to speak to him directly. I cannot speak for him, Jefferson."

Just then the office door opened, and Melody turned. Charles Decker came from his office, and he smiled when he caught sight of Melody.

"How do you do this fine day, Miss Doyle?"

"I insist you call me Melody. Otherwise, I won't answer to you."

He laughed and gave a little bow. "I yield to your request, Melody. How are you?"

"I'm good. I was just telling Jefferson that Da has started choosing suitors for me to meet. I have a Friday night supper and a Saturday outing on my schedule already."

Decker frowned. "I still think it's a bad way to find a husband."

"It's not the old-fashioned way of meeting someone by chance or even through mutual friends or family," Melody agreed, "but Da is determined."

"But why this way?"

Jefferson was surprised that his boss cared so much about the matter. It wasn't like he was on the roster to date Miss Doyle.

"I don't know," Melody confessed. She looked quite thoughtful for a long moment. "I think Da blames himself that I didn't marry young. I stayed with him and took care of his needs, and I think now it's all catching up with him. Since he hurt his back, he's had time to dwell on far too much."

Charles nodded and ran his hand back through his hair. "I suppose it just seems ... well, unsafe."

Melody laughed. "Out of all the men in the world, I trust Da the most to know the truth of a man's character. He has a gift of discernment that is unlike any I've ever seen. He always knows when a man is playing him false."

Jefferson felt a momentary tightness in his chest. Was that possible? Could a man ever be able to know the heart of another man? The deep, secret parts of that heart? He frowned and felt the tightness move to his forehead as his eyes narrowed. Surely that wasn't true. If it was, Jefferson was in trouble.

Much of what he'd said had been insincere or outright lies, but he had felt confident that he'd played the role well. Now he had his doubts. If what Melody said was true, then Mr. Doyle would not be allowing him to court his daughter.

"Will I see you both at church on Sunday?" Melody asked, looking first at Jefferson and then settling her gaze on Charles.

"I'll be there," Decker replied with a huge smile.

Curse the man, he was always so happy. Jefferson wasn't sure what Charles Decker had to be so joyful about. From what little he'd heard the man say, he knew Charles didn't even like banking.

Jefferson knew very little else about Decker, except that he had two older brothers. Jefferson had no desire to work with Jacob again, but at least he had been more settled about the process. Charles seemed to need to prove he was on top of each and every matter, whereas Jacob had been relaxed about the business.

It had been Jacob's idea to set up a bank in Cheyenne, and he had bored Jefferson with lengthy stories about how he'd put together reports and charts to prove to his father what a wise investment a savings and loan operation could be in Cheyenne. Jacob had been certain Cheyenne was to be the next Denver or Kansas City, with the railroad leading the way for settlement. Jefferson thought he was probably right enough about how the town would grow. The Union Pacific had great plans. If they carried through, the entire area would be a crossroads for travel, ranching, and all sorts of industries.

"You are apparently miles away in your thoughts, Jefferson."

He looked up at the sound of his name. Melody stood watching him, almost studiously. "I am sorry. I have so much on my mind today. Did you ask me something?"

She shook her head. "It wasn't important. I'll be on my way. My lunchtime is nearly over." She moved toward the door, and Jefferson started to come around the cage area to help her, but Charles was there first. He opened the door.

"I shall see you at the Coopers' later this afternoon. If you need help with planting, I can assist."

"Thanks, Charlie. I'll keep that in mind."

Once she was gone, Charles closed the door and headed back for his office. "You should probably go to lunch soon," he told Jefferson.

Jefferson waited until Charles had closed his office door to sneer. He was coming to hate the man. Jefferson wasn't exactly certain it was anything personal. He hated all men who had a position of authority over him. He always had.

Jefferson knocked on Charlie's door a few minutes later. He didn't wait for Charlie's call to enter but opened the door. "I'm leaving for lunch," he announced.

Charlie was going to reprimand him for not waiting until his knock was acknowledged, but he said nothing about it. "Enjoy your meal, and please leave my door open so that I can keep an eye out for customers."

Jefferson didn't reply and turned to go. Charlie watched as he headed out the front door. He was a strange man, to be sure. His attitude was almost childish at times. He seemed snobbish with certain people but fawned over others. He definitely took an interest in Melody Doyle.

A few moments later, the front door to the bank opened, and Charlie got to his feet and went in greeting. He found Melody's father and extended his hand.

"How good to see you up and around, Mr. Doyle. Is the back doing better?"

"A wee bit," the man admitted. "Have ya a moment of time? I'd like to ask ya some questions regardin' international bankin' matters."

This took Charlie by surprise. "Of course. Come into my office. I've been wanting to talk to you as well. I'll need to leave the door open in case other customers come by. My assistant, Jefferson Lane, is at lunch, so I'm afraid I must keep watch over all."

"That's no trouble to me," Mr. Doyle replied. "Before we talk business, maybe ya could tell me how yar enjoyin' Cheyenne."

Charlie chuckled. "It's quite a change from Chicago, but, you know, I am enjoying it very much. I think I've a mind to call it home."

"And why would that be?"

Leading the way to his office, Charlie gave a shrug. "It just feels right. I prayed about it after my father asked me to take the position. It felt right then as well. God wants me here for His purposes. That's all I know." He motioned to the leather chair situated in front of his desk. "Please have a seat."

"Are ya enjoyin' workin' for the bank?"

Charlie took his seat as Mr. Doyle did the same. "I find it acceptable work, but truth be told, I'd rather be teaching."

"Teachin'?"

"You seem surprised." Charlie shrugged. "I was born into a family of bankers. I've done my best to honor my father's wishes, which were to continue the family tradition in banking. My two older brothers had no difficulty with the expectation, and I'm doing my best to follow in their footsteps."

"But yar heart isn't in it?"

Charlie lost his smile. "No. It never has been. I love teaching and have long wanted to start a school for boys. I remember a wonderful man who taught at my private school. He made stories come alive, and even mathematics held wonder and fascination. He was also a master of music, and I took a year of piano studies with him. I was never all that good, but he taught me about music and the composers, as well as a variety of instruments. It was all so fascinating. I knew that I wanted to be like him and share knowledge with others—help draw out their talents. That's what he did for me."

Mr. Doyle eased back in the chair. "But ya cannot go against yar da."

"No." Charlie shook his head. "I've never even really explained my heart to him. Oh, he knows that I fancied the idea of teaching, but that's all. I didn't want to disappoint him."

"Is yar father a difficult man?"

"He is a stern and serious-natured person," Charlie replied. "He is very business minded. That's something he got from his father. At times, rare though they are, Father allows himself to relax. But he is devoted to hard work and serving his community. I greatly respect him."

"Aye, but do ya love him?"

It was such an odd question to be asked by a man who was nearly a stranger. Yet Charlie didn't find it at all offensive. Clancy Doyle had a way about him that put men at ease. Charlie thought for a moment of what Melody had said about her father's discernment.

"I do love him. He's never been a man to show great affection, but I feel confident he loves his family. And I find myself wanting to please him more than any earthly thing."

"And why would that be?" the older man asked.

"I want his approval, of course." Charlie shrugged. "Doesn't every man want his father's approval? The same is true of my walk with the Lord. I want His approval, and so I do my best to live the life He calls me to live. I look to follow His Word and ways."

Mr. Doyle nodded. "A good answer, to be sure. Now, I have somethin' else to discuss."

"Ah yes, international banking. Please tell me what you wish to know." Charlie tried not to show any disappointment. The fact was, he was quite enjoying sharing his heart with Clancy Doyle. But work came first.

"Actually, I've another topic of discussion."

Charlie eyed the man for a long moment. "And what would that be?"

"Me daughter, Melody." The older man grinned. "I'm wonderin' what yar feelin's for her might be."