“You knew someone was in the barn while it was burning,” Derrick said grimly, “because we asked for your help, and you just turned and rode off.”

Silverstone whirled on Gower, the older man’s thick brows lowered even more. “Did you witness their misfortune and then turn and leave?”

Gower’s face turned bright red. “I saw no need to—”

“You—” Silverstone’s jaw set. He glared at Gower. “There have been several instances when I’ve wondered at your moral fiber. I can see my concerns were well founded. You’ve wanted the Wards to fail since you first came to the bank.”

Mr. Picknard nodded. “I believe we’ve seen enough, Silverstone.”

“Indeed we have. Mr. Gower, the second we return to the bank, you will clean out your desk.”

Gower’s hands opened and closed. “That’s not—I didn’t mean—but what about the Wards? What about their note?”

“That’s no longer your concern,” Silverstone snapped. “Leave, Gower. You are dismissed.”

Gower sputtered. “B-b-but—”

“Leave,” Silverstone ordered again, but in a colder voice. “Or I’ll see to it that you never work in banking again. Ever.”

Red-faced, Gower seemed to be struggling with his temper. Finally, he swallowed, then said, “Yes, sir.” It was easy to see that he wanted to say more.

Silverstone looked Gower up and down before turning away and murmuring something to Mr. Picknard.

There was nothing left to be done. Gower cast one last look at Harriet, slammed his hat on his head, and then turned on his heel and left.

Chase watched the man go. Had it not been for Harriet’s small hand on his arm, he would have gone after that lout and shown him the true meaning of the word “honor.”

Mother cleared her throat. “Mr. Silverstone, thank you very much. Mr. Gower has not been at all pleasant for us to deal with. However, he was right about one thing. Without the wool…we cannot make the final payment.”

Harriet’s heart sank. It was so unfair—they had all worked so hard, so very hard. Chase gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She looked at him and he lifted her fingers to his lips.

Mr. Silverstone nodded. “If the board would approve an extension for a month, then perhaps—”

“No,” Mother said. “I’m afraid it would take an entire year to find the money.”

“A year?” Mr. Silverstone sighed. “I’m afraid we could never get the board to agree—”

“What about two months?” Chase asked. “Would that be acceptable?”

“Of course,” Silverstone said with a nod. “I’m certain that Picknard and I could get an extension for that length of time.”

Mother frowned. “But what could we possibly do in two months?”

“I could marry your daughter.” He looked down at Harriet. “If she’ll have me.”

Harriet’s throat, already a bit sore from the fire, now seemed to close. She swallowed three times before she could even rasp out, “What—you can’t want to—but you’ve never—”

Chase turned her to face him, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. “Harriet, I love you, and I want to marry you. I know I have things I must do, things I have to see to, but I think, with you by my side, that I can face those things.”