There was no denying that he wasn’t pastor material, but that was okay. What Roy loved doing—being outside in nature, working with his hands, repairing what was broken—that was a career just as necessary to society as being the pastor of a church. He had spent years working under Mr. Whitfield as a ranch hand, and maybe that had all been God preparing him for the leadership role he would one day take at a ranch of his own. Perhaps now it was the right time to pursue the purchase of a ranch that would be his. Once he had arrived at that idea, the gears in his head started to move; he could sell his father’s house and land and use the money from the sale to buy a ranch of his own.
By that Friday, when Cora once again did not show, Roy had somberly accepted that she would no longer be joining him for lunch. He didn’t hold it against her; he understood that she had to obey her father, but it made him sad, nonetheless. But Roy decided to turn his sadness into positive action for his future. One day, instead of waiting for her, he finished his work around noon. He had decided to head into town and talk to a banker about his plan to purchase land for a ranch and iron out all of the financial logistics.
Roy finished nailing the last piece of new flooring inside the church, pressing his foot down on it to ensure that it was stable enough to hold weight. Then he stepped back with his hands on his hips and admired his handiwork with pride. His father’s beloved church not only had a patched roof but also stable flooring, ensuring a safe shelter for the churchgoers of Lakewood to worship. Now he only needed to put another fresh coat of white paint throughout the exterior of the church and to take care of the overgrown garden out front.
Roy put aside his work materials and went down to the creek to wash his face and hands before going to the bank. While he was there, he was struck by the memory of he and Cora having lunch out here, where he playfully splashed her with water, and she laughed in that infectious way of hers, that made him also laugh and feel like a kid again. It had been less than a week since that day, and he missed spending time with her so much that it physically hurt.
After washing up, he secured Iggy to the wagon and took off into the downtown square, where rows of commercial properties made out of wood lined both sides of the busy street. The First Bank of Lakewood building was easy to spot, standing taller than all of the other buildings at two stories, five long, rectangular windows on the first floor and another five of the same size and shape parallel on the second. Roy secured the reins to the hitching post and entered the building.
Roy felt out of place in the large lobby of the bank, with its high ceilings and ornate desks and countertops where tellers waited on people. Although he had washed up, Roy wished he had had the foresight to change out of his work clothes, his white shirt covered in sweat and grime.
“Roy Burns, is that you?” a loud voice boomed from across the lobby, and Roy was greeted by one of the head bankers—Samuel Beck, a tall man with a narrow face and a receding hairline, his black hair thinning with age. Roy remembered Mr. Beck from his boyhood, as he had visited the house a few times to have supper and discuss business matters with his father.
“Hello, Mr. Beck,” Roy greeted him politely, holding out his hand and giving him a firm handshake. “It’s great to see you this afternoon.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Roy, and can I just say on behalf of everyone here at First Bank that we are deeply sorry for the loss of your father. He was a great man, indeed.”
Roy bowed his head. “Thank you, sir. It’s actually affairs regarding my father’s death that I was hoping to talk with you about today.”
“Certainly! Come right this way,” Samuel said, ushering Roy to follow him to his office.
Roy sat down nervously in the plush armchair across from Samuel’s large, mahogany desk and the older man smiled enthusiastically at him. “Now, Mr. Burns, what did you have on your mind today?”
Roy took a deep breath, commanding confidence in his voice as he made this first step toward securing his future. “As you might already know, my father left everything to me—including his estate.”
“Yes, yes, I see we have all of the paperwork in order right here,” Samuel confirmed.
“I’m hoping to get an understanding of how much the property is worth. I’m considering selling the land to buy a ranch of my own.”
“Hmm…” Samuel seemed to be considering Roy’s idea, flipping through paperwork until he found the page he needed.
“Well, Mr. Burns,” Samuel said finally. “This might not be the news you are looking for, but I’m afraid the property value of your father’s house and land won’t yield enough to purchase a ranch. As you know, such properties with the amount of land associated with a ranch tend to be higher in value.”
Roy’s heart sank at these words. He felt as if a rug had just been ripped out from beneath him, knocking him to the floor just when he thought he was firmly planted on his own two feet.
“I understand,” Roy said, unable to hide his disappointment. He rose from his seat. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Beck.”
“Well, not so fast,” Samuel stopped him, gesturing for Roy to sit back down. “There might be something else here… ah! Yes. Right here.” He pushed another paper across the desk, and Roy sat back down, his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as he skimmed the paper.
“As you can see, your father had a bit of a savings built up. Not a fortune, mind you, but a comfortable amount. I think that with the sale of the property, in addition to these savings, you can afford to purchase a ranch. Not anything too large, but a modest ranch, which will give you a start.”
Roy’s hands shook in excitement as he stared at the numbers printed on the paper. Just when he thought that all was lost, his father had given him a lifeline of hope.
“Thank you, Mr. Beck,” Roy said, shaking his hand vigorously.
“My pleasure, Mr. Burns. And good luck to you.”
Roy was practically whistling when he left the bank and rejoined Iggy. He was considering stopping by Cora’s house on the way home to give her the good news, thinking that if he left now, he would make it there before Sheriff Williams arrived home for dinner. He didn’t want to get her into any more trouble, but he had to share this news with someone, and Cora had become his best friend.
Just as he was untying Iggy from the post, a nasally voice called his name from behind. “Well, if it isn’t Roy Burns back in Lakewood.”
Roy turned to see Alfred Mills standing there sneering at him, and his body immediately tensed. He willed himself to keep his composure.
“Alfred, good afternoon to you. Yes, I’ve actually been in town for some time now.”
“Oh, I know you have. I’ve seen you around,” Alfred said, his voice betraying a slight lisp. He took a step closer to Roy. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with my Cora, haven’t you?”
Roy’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He felt like he was ten years old again, running outside the schoolhouse to avoid being prodded with Alfred’s big stick while he chanted his taunts of ‘Lakewood’s little preacher boy.’ Roy was thirteen before he had finally had enough and slugged Alfred in the nose, giving him a minor nosebleed. Roy had gotten in huge trouble from the teacher and received a long lecture from his father about the importance of ‘turning the other cheek.’ He remembered how disappointed all the adults had been with him, and he wondered now if that was the moment when he had earned his reputation of a rebel.
