The Banker, page 15
She told him about the department meeting while they ate. Macaroni with spaghetti sauce. It was good. “Would you be interested in teaching a course in agricultural politics?”
“Me?” he snorted. “I’m decades past that, Marilee.”
“Are you?” she asked with a smile. “Tell me, you don’t keep current? You’ve got the degree, you’ve got the experience. The question is do you want to? Maybe winter intersession? A shorter period when there’s less work anyway?”
He considered that. “This year? Or next?”
“Probably next,” she conceded. “Give you time to build it. There’s paperwork.”
“Of course there is,” he said. “You do the paperwork, and I’ll teach the class.”
“Deal,” she said, pleased. “But we’ll need a syllabus and readings list to go with the paperwork. We can that this winter. And I’ll let my chair know it’s coming in.”
Jacob said he was going home, and then Marilee was alone on the ranch for the first time in nearly a week. She went down and spent an hour talking to the horses, checking them out, currying them, giving them some extra attention. She suspected they’d gotten plenty of attention with all the kids here. She grinned.
Her dogs trotted happily behind her as she puttered around. She sighed. She felt better just for being here.
Still, she looked at her phone, and sent out a message to her friends: Pete’s tonight. I need it, we all do. And drinks are on me.
And she went inside to clean up — in her own room, her own shower, and with her own clothes. It felt like heaven.
She locked all the horses in their stalls and the put the dogs in the house before she left. Give herself the option of staying in town one more night.
She was tired, she acknowledged as she drove back into town, back across the border to Moscow. She was running a bit late. Well, she didn’t need to be first, and her friends wouldn’t be going anywhere. She grinned.
It might be better to sleep one more night at Ben’s and Ron’s. She couldn’t remember — was tomorrow a Breakfast Club breakfast? She grinned. She thought it was. Good. Mark could do the morning chores, and she’d come out at after breakfast.
She drove a little faster.
Chapter 24
Happy hour was in full swing. The pool tables were full of players, and people stood around watching, and waiting to challenge the winner. A band was playing country western in the back, and they weren’t bad. People clustered around the bar, others filled the booths — including her friends who were in the far back where they usually were.
But the problem with being late, Marilee realized when she walked into the bar, was that she now had to walk past Trent Williams who was already in his usual booth just inside the door.
He was wearing a fine charcoal suit, a white shirt and a dark tie. The tie was loosened a bit, and he looked tired. He was still one of the sexiest men she had ever seen.
And one of the most infuriating.
He had a beer in front of him, and he was staring at it as if he hoped it had answers for him.
She could tell him it didn’t, but he probably knew that.
Suck it up, she told herself. He’s due your thanks.
At the very least.
She walked over and hesitated. Sitting seemed a bit presumptuous. He looked up, his eyes widened in surprise.
“I want to thank you,” she said. “I’ve heard stories all week about what you did, stepping up and leading the crews. Thank you.”
He nodded, then he hesitated, and gestured to the seat across from him. “Could you sit for a moment?” he asked. “I could use your input on something.”
Marilee was startled, but she sat down. Damn these wooden booth seats were hard and uncomfortable, she thought irritably. When had that happened? And she really wanted to be able to push the table away. Come on, she thought, it’s not even four months!
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He told her about his week. “I can’t see why Benjamin is being such a hard ass, and then implying it’s because I’m a numbers man — when he didn’t even consult me on the decisions,” he said with a frown. “I am a numbers man, but I’m not calloused. Both of these accounts should have had work plans, not penalties. But what does he get out of it? Something.”
Marilee thought about it. “Did he want to be bank president?” she asked.
“Apparently,” Trent replied. “But....” He stopped and Marilee nodded. Some things belonged inside an organization only. “Let’s just say that the Steve episode wasn’t the first.”
Oh. Yes, she could see that might make corporate hesitate if there had been complaints of discrimination and harassment that had gone unchecked. Or worse. She thought about that. Thought about Benjamin Crane at 60, knowing he wasn’t going to move up. That there were no more opportunities for him besides what he did now and at the pay he was now. And added in his commitment to his family, to his grandchildren. A family man who would rather be with his family? But still years from retirement?
“What happens if corporate closes the bank?” she asked slowly. “And they’re close right? In part because these two accounts looked like they were about to default? Are there others? What happens to Benjamin?”
Trent considered that. “I’d been thinking about what happens to the employees and the town,” he said slowly. “To Benjamin? I suspect they’d offer him a buy out to take early retirement.”
She frowned. She thought Benjamin was a fair, if conservative man. “Would he sink the branch to get that?” she asked, troubled. “That seems fairly ruthless. Not to mention callous.”
“Son of a...,” he said softly. His eyes were cold, and Marilee was glad he wasn’t looking at her like that.
“I’d check his other accounts,” she suggested, as she stood up. It was getting harder to get in and out of these booths, she thought annoyed. Stay, she thought. Tell him.
“Have a beer with me?” he asked.
Marilee hesitated, and then she nodded. She went to the bar and got her now-usual tonic water. She wondered if she could get Hank to stock iced tea for her? She took it back to the booth where Trent was sitting.
“Are you OK now?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, but I’m staying in town one more night. I’ll be back out there tomorrow. It will feel good to be back, today. A lot of cleanup ahead. And I’ve got to move those cows back out onto the range — and then turn around and bring them back in two months. But the air quality meter says I’ll be fine.”
“I owe you an apology,” he blurted out. “I talked to my sister when I was in Boise. She explained what tenured and full professor meant. She said I’d been insulting — it was if I’d been told it would be OK, I could be a teller at a bank.”
Marilee laughed. “I like your sisters,” she said. “I especially like whoever said that.”
“I learned a lot that weekend, most of it wasn’t pleasant,” he said ruefully. “But truly, I didn’t mean to be insulting.”
She nodded. Incredibly oblivious, but not intentionally insulting. Check. But she knew a lot of men in that category. Actually she knew quite a few who were oblivious and intentionally insulting.
“Trent,” she began. She looked at the scarred wooden table not at him. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
He shook his head. “I already heard,” he said. “I hope the two of you will be very happy together.”
She looked at him, then, open-mouthed in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?” she demanded.
“I stopped at the emergency room to make sure you were OK,” he confessed. “And the nurse told me. Said you and the baby were OK, and that your friend had taken you to Pullman and out of the smoke.”
“And you concluded, what exactly?” Marilee felt like she was floundering, but really.
He frowned, and looked confused. “That you’d found someone, was pregnant, and he was taking care of you? Did I miss something?”
OK, she conceded. He jumped to conclusions, but at least it was a reasonable conclusion.
“There is no ‘someone,’” she said gently. “My friends Ron and Ben Johnson have been taking care of me. Ben’s an EMT — he’s the one who dragged me to the emergency room.” She told him about the drive, and about falling out of the truck into Ben’s arms unconscious.
“Quite the dramatic finish,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
He was silent. “Say it straight out, Marilee,” he said at last. “You’re pregnant. Am I the father?”
She nodded. “I haven’t known how to tell you,” she said quietly. “It didn’t seem like something I should add to a phone conversation about the bank loan. Oh by the way? I’m pregnant?”
She felt like there was this bubble of silence around the booth, that the noise and the music were far away. There was just the two of them.
“I want this baby very much,” she continued when he didn’t say anything. “It was my decision, and I don’t expect anything from you. But you do have the right to know.”
When he still didn’t say anything, she started to stand up. He reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Sit,” he ordered, then added, “please. I just need a moment to process, OK?”
She snorted and sat back down. “It took me more than a moment,” she said. “We were so careful. I was on birth control! We used condoms. This is a child who is determined to be here.”
He smiled briefly. “How far along?” he asked.
“Three months, a bit more,” she said. She smiled. “They did an ultrasound to make sure the smoke hadn’t harmed her. And they told me. I’m going to have a daughter.”
“We are going to have a daughter,” he corrected, almost absently as if he was thinking about something else.
She nodded. “We are,” she said, and she smiled at him. “So will the father of my baby dance with her mother?”
He stood up, a great deal more graceful than she was at getting out of the booth, she thought with annoyance, and he held out his hand. “The father would be delighted to dance with the mother of his baby,” he said.
They danced as they always did, slow, no matter the song. Off to one side of the floor. Trent had to be the most self-confident man she’d ever met, Marilee thought as she often did. Wears a suit to a honky-tonk? Well duh, it’s after work right? Dance slow even though the music calls for fast? Well, he doesn’t like to dance fast or swing. He likes to dance slow.
And God, she liked to dance slow with him.
When the band took a break, Trent put a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to meet his eyes. “We’ve got some talking to do,” he said quietly. “But tonight? Not tonight.” He kissed her gently, then more passionately, ignoring the people who might be watching.
And of course there were people watching, Marilee thought helplessly. She closed her eyes and sighed as she clung to him, and let the kiss deepen. When he stopped, she looked at him with glazed eyes, and slowly remembered where she was. She flushed.
Someone applauded, and Trent gave a short laugh. “And talk without an audience,” he added. He held her for a moment longer. “I’ve got to go. If you need something, you ask, you hear? And we will talk soon. Because I won’t abandon this child any more than I abandoned Bethany.”
She nodded, and watched as he walked out the door. She went to the booth where her friends sat watching her silently.
“I guess he knows,” Angie said finally.
Marilee started laughing. “I guess he does,” she agreed. She smiled at them all. “It’s a girl.”
Chapter 25
Marilee was pregnant, and he was the father? Trent was still trying to get his mind wrapped around that thought. He walked back up to the bank, where his car was parked, trying to think that through.
For a week now he had forced himself to accept that he had lost her, and she had found someone else. Someone else to love and start a family with.
Someone who was not him.
And now it turned out that the friend who took her home with him was truly just a friend. A face came to mind. He’d been at the ranch for a while, Trent thought.
He closed his eyes briefly. His first reaction was overwhelming relief. He had not lost her. Not yet.
But really? Nothing had changed. He thought of the lyrics Marilee had crafted and sang that night. A man who wouldn’t stay and a woman who couldn’t go. That was still true, he thought painfully.
He understood why she couldn’t leave better — thanks to his sister and to Jacob Blessing. Really, thanks to being out there for 72 hours defending the land. He got it. He understood now why she couldn’t leave. For all of the complex reasons that Jacob had spelled out for him, but mostly, because she loved the land and she wouldn’t leave it.
Maybe even couldn’t leave it.
But the notion of being a small-town bank president for the next 25 years? He had a brief mental flash of Benjamin Crane. No, that was not going to be him at 60. He thought Marilee might have it right. Feeling trapped, not going anywhere, and thinking of early retirement. Even if he brought down the branch to do it.
He didn’t want to feel trapped like that one day.
He got to his car, and hesitated, thinking about what Marilee had asked. What about Benjamin’s other accounts? What was coming down the pipeline? What were the chances that these were the only two accounts he was pushing toward default?
He sighed, and went back into the bank. It was silent, his footsteps echoed on the marble floors. It was an old building, full of real wood paneling, and gleaming brass. He liked it. The wood was probably harvested near here, he thought suddenly. He should look it up. And he wondered how long this bank had been here. His dad would be delighted to delve into that history. Maybe he’d invite him up to do so.
He went into his office, flipped on the lights and turned on his computer. He left his office door open. It was a bit spooky at night, he realized. He made it a rule to not stay late. To not let the bank take over his life.
But still, he was curious. So he went into the commercial loan database and called up a report of accounts who had been behind in the last 90 days. He sorted them by loan officer, and then looked at penalties assessed.
He closed his eyes. Damn it, Benjamin, he thought. He had not seen this coming. He had thought him an honorable man, and one who could be relied on. He had relied upon him. Trent made a note to talk to the assistant vice president for personal loans on Monday. Yes, they needed to do an internal audit.
He shut down his computer and locked up. He drove home, and then changed his clothes and went for a run. Bethany would be back soon from her gym night, so he couldn’t go far. But he needed to clear his brain somehow. He felt like his thoughts were bouncing between Marilee’s news and Benjamin’s betrayal, and he couldn’t get his mind around either of them.
When he came back, Bethany was in the kitchen making herself an omelet. She smiled at him. “Want one?”
He nodded, and perched on the barstool to watch her cook. “You knew,” he said at last. “Didn’t you?”
She looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. “Knew what?”
“That Marilee is pregnant.”
She turned back to the stove, and slid the second omelet onto a plate. She brought them both over and sat down at the counter next to him. “I guessed,” she said at last. “She started dressing differently. She stopped riding alone. And there was just something about her. And about a month ago, it just hit me.”
“That’s what you talked to Jeanne about, not your mother,” he continued. “Whether you had an obligation to tell me about Marilee.”
She nodded. “How did you find out?”
“She told me tonight,” he said. “It’s a girl. Did you know that?”
“I’m going to have a sister!” she said, with delight and amazement.
Trent smiled at her. His daughter was amazing, he thought. And his next daughter would be too. He just had to decide whether he could walk away from watching her grow up.
A man who wouldn’t stay, and a woman who couldn’t leave, he thought. That’s how Marilee saw it. He had a choice; she didn’t. She accepted his choice. But she did see it as a choice, one she didn’t have.
Did he see it that way? Did he accept that she didn’t have a choice but to stay?
He wasn’t sure he did. In spite of everything, there was a part of him that said she was putting a job and a ranch ahead of him in her priorities, and he wanted to be number one.
“I’m glad you know,” Bethany said now. “Was I wrong not to tell you?”
He shook his head. “No, we’d agreed. No pressuring you to tell me what was going on,” he said. “And Jeanne’s advice was right for this. It was a talk that one adult needed to have with another adult. Not something that was the responsibility of a kid.”
He smiled at her. “Although, you’re not a kid any longer, are you?” he said. “You did the job of an adult this last week. I’m very proud of you.”
She slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for giving me the space to figure out what kind of person I wanted to become,” she said. “I liked being the competent one. The one others took direction from. I wasn’t helpless, and I didn’t need to pretend that I was, so some man would step in. I don’t know that I would have become that person if I’d stayed with mom.”
“It is who you are,” Trent assured her. “I think you would have discovered that about yourself sooner or later no matter where you were. But, yes, these last months out at the ranch helped you to find it sooner.”
“Marilee,” she said, then stopped and shook her head. “Having Marilee as a role model instead of Mom was eye-opening. I love Mom. But,” and she stopped again. She sighed. “But I don’t want to be like Mom.”
“No, you need to be Bethany,” he said. “Because Bethany is pretty great in her own right. You don’t need to become your mother. And you don’t need to become Marilee either. Although I agree, Marilee is a better role model. You just need to be Bethany Williams.”
