Chapter 2 - The Price of Pride
By morning, news of what had transpired at the Copper Lantern spread through Cedar Creek like wildfire.
In the parlor of the Whitaker mercantile store, Arthur Whitaker slammed a ledger onto his mahogany desk. His son Thomas stood before him, his head hung low, his face red with embarrassment.
"You fool!" Arthur barked, his mustache twitching in rage. "You tried to make a mockery of Sarah Bennett's girl, and instead you made us look like petty savages in front of Grant Callahan! Do you have any idea how much freight business Callahan brings through our store?"
"She's just a poor washerwoman's daughter, Dad!" Thomas protested weakly. "It was just a prank! Rebecca said—"
"I don't care what Rebecca Hale said!" Arthur shouted. "Grant Callahan practically adopted that girl at dinner last night! If he decides to take his ranch business down to the Denver freight line, we'll lose half our winter revenue!" Arthur’s eyes narrowed into dark, bitter slits. "If Sarah Bennett thinks she can use Callahan to lift her head above her station, she’s mistaken. We’ll call in her store debt today."
Two miles outside of town, inside a small timber cabin surrounded by drifting snow, Sarah Bennett was carefully setting down a heavy iron skillet when a knock echoed at the door.
Ellie opened it to find Luke Callahan standing on the porch. He was holding a large wooden crate filled with split hickory wood and a sack of fresh flour from the valley mill.
"Mr. Callahan," Sarah gasped, coming to the door and pulling her shawl tightly around her thin shoulders. "What is all this?"
Luke pulled off his Stetson, holding it respectfully against his chest. "Good morning, Mrs. Bennett. My father sent me over. We’ve got a dozen heavy canvas saddlebags at the ranch that need double-stitching before the spring roundup. Father said nobody in the county stitches leather and canvas as strong as you do."
He laid a heavy leather pouch onto the wooden table. It clinked with the distinct, heavy sound of gold coins.
"That's twenty dollars advance," Luke said quietly. "And my father asked if he could reserve your time for the rest of the winter."
Sarah stared at the pouch, her dark eyes filling with tears. She looked at Ellie, who was standing near the hearth, her cheeks flushing warm as Luke looked at her.
"Luke..." Ellie said softly, stepping forward. "You don't have to manufacture work for us. We know what happened last night."
Luke turned to face her, his gaze steady and unwavering. "I didn't manufacture anything, Ellie. My father respects your mother. And as for last night..." He took a step closer, his voice lowering so only she could hear. "Last night showed me that the people in this town don't know gold when they're looking right at it."
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Before Ellie could answer, the snow outside crunched under heavy boots. Arthur Whitaker stepped onto the porch, flanked by two town deputies.
"Sarah Bennett!" Arthur called out coldly. "I’m here to collect the sixteen dollars owed on your winter supply ledger. Immediately."
