Her Safe Harbor: Prairie Romance (Crawford Family Book 4) Read Free

employees took the customer to their office.
    Jennifer knew that her sister Jolene had done her share of
this sort of thing during the time she was married, while her first husband,
Turner, worked just two floors above, near his father-in-law’s offices. Her
father was not enamored of the idea of her continuing on with what Jolene had
started, however, as she was unmarried. Jennifer argued that O’Brien was always
with her and that her assistant was the daughter of Thomas O’Brien, who managed
their family stables, whom her father had known since his youth, when the then
young, fabled horseman from Ireland had landed in the States, and whom he had
trusted and employed for all of their adult lives. But her father was won over
when Jennifer confessed she could not abide being at Willow Tree for days on
end with only Jane Crawford as a companion.
    “Just a Mr. Carter, Miss Crawford,” O’Brien replied as she
glanced at the list she held in her hand. “Your sister’s notes indicate he had
a sickly child the last time he was here, almost three years ago. But I cannot
tell if the child was sick with a passing fever or cold or sickly with some
long-term ailment.”
    “I will have to see how the conversation goes,” Jennifer
said. “What other information did Jolene leave us? Wife’s name? Where exactly
is Mr. Carter from?”
    “Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Miss Crawford,” O’Brien replied.
“But he does have business interests here in Boston.”
    “I understand that our new Burroughs adding machines have
been delivered,” Jennifer said as she set about sending messages to the small
kitchen for cakes, coffee, and hot water for brewing her tea.
    “Yes, miss, they have,” O’Brien said with a sparkle in her
eye. “I am hoping we will be able to test them out today.”
    “I imagine we will. My father is sending another packet for
us to examine.”
    “Yes, miss.”
    “Have you solved any of the mysteries of the Dorchester
portfolio?”
    “No, I have not, but I’ve got some ideas. Perhaps there’ll
be time later today for us to discuss them,” O’Brien said.
    Jennifer nodded and went to the sideboard, now being filled
with trays of cakes and biscuits by a uniformed man, while O’Brien read aloud
from a summary of Mr. Carter’s holdings in the Crawford Bank and other notes
that someone had written about his business ventures. Mr. Carter himself arrived
shortly after, and O’Brien answered the knock on the door. Jennifer poured tea
and commiserated with Mr. Carter over his fragile health. Wickers came a few
scant minutes later and escorted Mr. Carter to her father’s office.
    “Well,” Jennifer said as she rose. “That was quite simple
today, wasn’t it, O’Brien?”
    “And quick, miss. Just as Mr. Carter was ready to explain
every one of his ailments to you, Wickers came for him. A narrow escape,” she
said with a smile.
    “I imagine you’re right. Let’s take a look at our new
arithmetic machine, shall we?”
    “Oh, yes,” O’Brien said as she followed Jennifer into the
office area. “But before we start with the new machine, I’d like to talk to you
about the Dorchester portfolio while it’s fresh in my brain.”
    “Yes. Let’s begin with that. If my memory serves, Mr.
Dorchester has a few outstanding loans against deposits held here at the bank
and properties in the city,” Jennifer said.
    “That is correct. He has also bought a significant amount of
stock certificates over the years, and as I looked at the purchases as
recorded, I did some calculations and found that the percentage of the sales
that the bank took was six percent, not five as we’ve seen on other occasions.
Perhaps it means nothing,” O’Brien said.
    Jennifer took the green felt packet from O’Brien and untied
the ribbon. She sat down at her desk and pulled out the contents. Individual
packets of light yellow paper separated account tallies from stock
certificates. Jennifer barely heard the click of the keys as