Damn. Zach stood tall, curled his fingers into fists. How he hated to give up his invention as collateral. His patent was his most valued possession, and he’d hate to lose it to these jackals especially since he lost his prior invention to that swindling bitch in Missouri. If one investor pulled out, then he’d be ripe pickings. The rest of investors would seize his invention in a flash.
To get the rest of the money, he had to take a risk. “I’ll include a percentage of rights to my patent as collateral.”
The men murmured with the concession, but none of them were eager to offer anything.
“You are going to be a great businessman, a rich one if you get your idea off the ground,” said Edward Spencer. “I’ll put up a loan. But in return I want ten percent of your company, and I’m only guaranteeing half of what you have asked for.” He waved his glass. “Any other of you gentlemen want to invest?”
Dyer’s head was wreathed in cigar smoke. Zach could barely make out his nod.
“I’ll do the other half for the cowboy, but I want one hundred percent of your patent if you fail. But only because Elizabeth has pressed me to do so. I’d not do it otherwise. You owe her a debt of gratitude, Mr. Rourke.”
“In addition,” Dyer said, “I’ll take ten percent of the company for the other half of the loan.”
Zach gritted his teeth. Pirates. He was giving too much away. “No.”
The men scoffed. Spencer arrested his crystal glass halfway to his mouth. The look on Spencer’s face was priceless as if Zach had declared he’d sculpted figures ofMichelangelo’s Davidout of fresh dung. The paper cut-out sugar baron excused himself and stumbled from the room.
Dyer blew out a stream of smoke. “We are very generous with our offer. You won’t get those liberal offerings anyplace else.”
“I’ll give up five percent each to Mr. Spencer and Mr. Dyer. Those are my terms.”
“Ever trade in horses, Mr. Rourke?” Dyer reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a card and pushed it across the table. “Talk to my banker. When you and he figure something out for the final amount, let me know. I’ll back you.”
The hairs rose on Zachary’s neck. He pocketed the card.
Zach tossed back the whiskey and leaned against the wall next to the door while the men droned on. He didn’t belongto the big-boy club. Didn’t think he’d ever feel comfortable belonging to a group of ruthless sharks, bragging about their exploits. Like a pissing contest of sins. He grew bored listening to the hum of their conversations.
“A good thing Congress nullified the Indian treaties and made the savages wards of the nation,” said Spencer.
“Wards, hell. Criminals more like. Damned Sioux and Cheyenne are slaughtering whites. Need to send in the U.S. Army,” said Aston, a steel magnate.
You’d be mad if someone built a railroad through your dining room.
“Send General George Custer, he’s a fighting man. Get them corralled on reservations. Once there, it will be easy to pluck the gold discovered on their lands,” said Dyer.
Zach gritted his teeth. How’d he like to see any one of these men go up against the Lakota Sioux Chief Sitting Bull.
Instead, he entertained putting his fist through their faces. How long it would it take him to do it? Three seconds? Five seconds? Might be a detriment to securing financing.
Chapter Seven
It was a minute sound, but Zachary heard it none the same. Living on the frontier had given him a sixth sense when something was off. Excusing himself, Zach trailed the muted probability of a scuffle.
He traveled soundlessly down a dark corridor lit by flickering gas lamps and went through open French doors.
Elizabeth? The sugar baron? Was he mistaken? Was it a meeting of paramours?
He heard a woman’s whimper.
“I’ll compromise you, Elizabeth and force you to marry me.”
“Let me go.”
Zachary took long strides through the lengthy conservatory filled with orchids, ferns, climbing vines, the perfume of flowers and flowering damp earth. Banks of potted palms lined the windows, and to the left, a lion’s head framed in green onyx spouted cascading water in a fan-shaped stream.
“Your mother is an overeager shrew, desiring the title I will soon earn.”
“Ouch. You bitch, you bit my hand.”
