He didn’t dare move to break the spell that had been cast over him, but he had to ask, “What if men found you all by your lonesome? Do you know what they would have done to you?”
“I do, which is why I always slept with one eye open,” she acknowledged, removing her hand and waving it dismissively in front of her. “Regardless, I did not track down Bill Garrett’s gang for the reward. Money means very little to me. I have more respect for an honorable man, and you are the most honorable man I know, Paden Brooks.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Brooks, for saying so,” he said with a boyish grin.
A faint blush came to her cheeks as her gaze landed on his lips. He felt pleased that she wasn’t immune to his charms. He offered his arm, and they walked across the street and down the boardwalk.
Stepping into the bank’s lobby, a tall man, in his early twenties, with blonde hair and a brown suit, greeted them. “Welcome to Shelbrook’s First National Bank. How may I help you?”
“My wife and I are interested in opening an account,” Paden announced, smiling over at his wife.
“For that, I will have to refer you to our bank manager, Mr. Tuttle.” The man came around his desk and approached them. “I haven’t seen you folks around. Are you new to our town?”
“We came in on the last stagecoach,” Rosalie informed him.
“What an exciting ride that must have been,” the man proclaimed, wiping his hand over his chin. “I heard that a husband and wife teamed up, fought off the road agents valiantly, and saved all the passengers from certain death.”
A man’s voice came from the far side of the room. “You are speaking to the heroes themselves, Mr. Holmes. These are the two that everyone is talking about.”
“You don’t say,” Mr. Holmes said in astonishment, pointing toward some chairs lining the wall. “Please have a seat and allow me to get you something to drink.”
“That’s not necessary. We don’t intend to stay for long,” Rosalie replied graciously. “We’re taking advantage of the Homestead Act and are relocating to a plot of land a few miles out of Shelbrook. Our next stop is to drive out to our land.”
An older, balding man with a dark, blue suit approached them with his hand out. “I am Mr. Tuttle, the bank manager.”
Paden shook hands with the man. “I am Paden Brooks, and this is my wife, Rosalie. We are looking forward to the next chapter in our lives.”
Mr. Tuttle looked down at Rosalie’s stomach, misinterpreting Paden’s words. “What wonderful news. You must be expecting.”
Rosalie’s lips parted in surprise, but she managed to recover quickly. “It was rather… unexpected,” she murmured delicately.
Mr. Tuttle smiled at her and pointed toward his office. “If you will follow me, then we can open you an account.”
They walked into the back room, and Mr. Tuttle closed the door. As he went to sit behind his desk, he stated, “I know you had an unfavorable first impression, but I assure you that Shelbrook is a safe, law-abiding town.”
“I heard that the stagecoach was robbed three times before, and that the last group of passengers had been murdered,” Rosalie said in a hushed voice, trying to sound a little frightened. “Do you know why those robbers would attack the stagecoach?”
Mr. Tuttle nervously glanced over his shoulder at the large black safe that was built into the wall. “No one is foolish enough to rob our bank, because it is only a stone’s throw away from the sheriff’s office. Plus, our back wall is reinforced. The only way a robber can access our money is through the money box on the stagecoach.”
Putting his hands up in front of him, Mr. Tuttle rushed to squash their fears. “If you open an account, and invest your money at our fine bank, you do not need to worry about losing your funds. I can assure you of that.”
“I don’t know about that,” Paden said, his voice full of concern. “If no funds are forthcoming, then the bank will be required to use its own resources. How do we know that our money won’t be tied up?”
“I assure you, Mr. Brooks, that the sheriff is very concerned with this pressing issue, and he is working diligently to solve the problem. I have even heard a rumor that the staging company is bringing in the Pinkerton National Detective Agency to work the case,” Mr. Tuttle stated as a line of sweat appeared on his brow. He took out a handkerchief and wiped it away. “To open an account, you will need a deposit of just five dollars.”
Turning toward Rosalie, he asked, “What do you think?”
“Whatever you think is best, my love,” she answered, smiling sweetly.
How he wished her words were in earnest. “I think it would be in our best interest to open an account.” Paden directed his attention toward the bank manager. “When do you anticipate the next shipment of gold to arrive?”
“I apologize, but I am not at liberty to say, Mr. Brooks,” the bank manager asserted. “Our gold delivery is a heavily guarded secret.”
“We understand,” Paden said.
They filled out the required paperwork and slipped Mr. Tuttle a five-dollar bill to deposit into their account. As they walked out of the bank, Paden turned to Rosalie and asked, “What do you think?”
Rosalie sighed, glancing back at the wooden structure. “Without those gold shipments, then this bank will most assuredly go under. Do you think Mr. Tuttle or Mr. Holmes could be so callous as to deceive an entire community?”
“If it’s not them, then who?”
