Mail Order Brides: A Bride for the Banker (Bozeman Brides Book 1) by Emily Woods Page B

her niece. “He’s eighteen, dear. Most men don’t really become who they are going to be until they are in their mid-twenties or so.”
    “Well, he’s behaving like a child, coming and going as he pleases and not thinking about anyone else. I’m going to have to do something about it. His going out again tonight was the final straw. I won’t have any more of this kind of behavior.”
    Margie didn’t know what she would do, but she was not going to allow her beloved brother to wallow in a life of sin that might end up in his demise.
    “Those characters are rather rough,” Aunt Edna admitted. Two of his ‘friends’ had called earlier in the evening and whisked Jackson away for a night of entertainment.
    “Exactly!” Margie jumped out of her chair and began pacing the room. “But if I have anything to say about it, he won’t see any of them again.”
    The older woman’s face reflected anxiety as she watched the younger woman stomp around. “If anyone can change him, my dear, it would be you. I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I will pray that you find an answer very soon.”
    Shortly after their conversation, Margie retired to her room and began stalking around. She commenced her evening prayers, but they did not take their regular format. “God, You’re going to have to do something with that brother of mine,” she grumbled in exasperation. “He’s headed down a very dangerous path. Give me a sign, Lord. What should I do? How can I help him?”
    Her mind raced with possibilities. There was a small inheritance from their parents that her aunt and uncle had insisted they keep in the bank. She could use that to travel somewhere, but then what? It wasn’t enough to start a business, but maybe they could get jobs in a town far from here. Her other relatives lived in California, but she worried that would just be another place for her brother to get drawn into a bad crowd. She needed to go somewhere far away, somewhere remote where the population was so low that the chances of Jackson falling in with the wrong kind of people were almost nonexistent.
    Changing out of her day dress and into her nightgown, Margie lay down in her bed and waited for sleep to come. In the morning, she would go to the bank and take out the money. Like it or not, she and Jackson were leaving town and heading to parts unknown, the sooner the better.
     
    ***
     
    “What do you mean it’s all gone?” she asked in a barely controlled voice that was laced with anger. The poor teller had relayed the news that their pittance was no longer being held at the establishment. “Where did it go?”
    “Well, um, your brother is an equal account holder, or rather, he has been since he turned eighteen, Miss,” the poor man stumbled. “He came in several weeks ago and said that the two of you were going to invest it somewhere. He withdrew the entire amount.”
    “Of all the selfish, inconsiderate, irresponsible…” Margie continued to seethe for a few moments before she realized that she was frightening the teller and a few other members of the bank. The manager approached her and urged her to calm down.
    “Perhaps you would like to come into my office, Miss Davis?” the older man enquired solicitously.
    Margie shook her head. “No, thank you. I have to track down that brother of mine and beat him senseless, but I appreciate your offer nonetheless.”
    She stormed out of the building, leaving a sea of startled faces in her wake, and set her mind on what she would say to Jackson. All of her plans had hinged on using their meager inheritance to start up somewhere new. Now what could she do?
    Stopping at the hotel for a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, she bumped into two acquaintances who were tittering on about the latest gossip.
    “Margie!” Lydia called out to her. “Come join us. We have the most interesting things to tell you.”
    Reluctantly, Margie approached the table. She’d been looking forward to some time alone,