Aly's House Read Free Page B

believed there had been a mistake. What could her father possibly want with a farm? Farmland wasn’t selling right now, and Cedar Hill was too far out of Claiborne to be developed as commercial property. It wasn’t as if the bank couldn’t afford to let the Waynes ride for a while. The oil boom had the Kingston State Bank flourishing. Other farmers were allowed an extensive grace period during bad financial times. Why not Sy Wayne? This whole thing had to be a mistake. Surely her father wasn’t intending to foreclose on Cedar Hill.
    But Aly knew too well the president and chairman of the Kingston State Bank, and depression hung over her like a dark cloud by the time they drove into the bank’s parking lot. Marshall helped himself to one of the two spots marked president and chairman, the shabby black Ford a seedy contrast to her father’s new white Lincoln Continental in the other. Aly had to hurry to catch up with Marshall’s fast stride, reaching him as he threw open both of the heavy glass doors at once and strode defiantly toward her father’s office in the rear of the bank. Their entrance attracted the immediate and fascinated attention of the tellers and employees at desks around the room. Aly could tell from their expressions that news of the foreclosure was out. By tonight it would be discussed at every supper table in town.
    Mrs. Devers, her father’s secretary of many years, observed Marshall with stern disapproval. She could not see Aly, only a pair of extremely thin legs in tattered jean shorts behind him. “Yes, young man, what is it?”
    “I want to see the senior Lorne Kingston.”
    “Do you have an appointment?”
    “He doesn’t need one, Mrs. Devers,” said Aly, stepping from behind Marshall. “We’re together.”
    “So I see,” pursed Mrs. Devers critically. “Your father is busy at the moment, Aly. He doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”
    “Too bad,” said Aly, sailing past the older woman’s desk. “Come on, Marshall.”
    Lorne Kingston Sr.—warned by two sharp buzzes of the intercom that trouble was on the way—was already rising from behind his desk when Aly and Marshall entered. Buttoning his coat over a flawlessly ironed shirt, he said, “I can’t say that I’m surprised to see you, Marshall, even though I understood from your father that you were busy studying for your finals.”
    “Is that why you waited until this week to have the sheriff serve notice of an intent to foreclose?”
    Lorne Kingston—tall, graying, imperious—straightened slim shoulders. “You flatter yourself. I fear you’ve wasted valuable time on a useless trip if you’ve come home to convince me to change my mind about foreclosing. I’m sure, however, that your coming has been a comfort to your folks.” His glance cut sharply to Aly, taking in the T-shirt and ragged-edged jeans. “Young lady, the family asks so little of you. Is it too much to expect you not to come into this bank unless you are suitably attired?”
    Stunned that the bank did indeed plan to foreclose, Aly replied in amazement, “This is an emergency.”
    “Your appearance will do little to aid it. Now, Marshall, have your say and get out. I’m a busy man.”
    Marshall’s dark eyes flashed. “I want to know why you want Cedar Hill.”
    “Frankly, I don’t want it. The place will be a liability to the bank until it’s sold. All we want out of it is our vested interest in it. As I explained to Sy, anything over and above will be returned to him as equity. That’s a promise.”
    “Even if the bank buys it at auction and sells it later for a profit?”
    “Yes. I think even you would agree that’s more than fair. And until we do find a buyer, your family is welcome to stay on the land and pay us minimal rent. Naturally, the stock, equipment, and crops will be sold at auction. Now is there anything else?”
    Her father’s generosity astonished Aly. Ordinarily in a foreclosure, the bank pocketed all profits above the note