The Golden Ledger
Copyright© 2026 by BillMax
Chapter 9: The New Year Comes In
Tsk ... after paying in full for the Concord buggy, there were still several hundred dollars in savings.
That truly took Mrs. Sutton by surprise, considering Caleb wasn’t even thirty yet.
Since the wedding, his family hadn’t put up a single cent.
It was he who’d paid out of his own pocket to build a big house for his folks back home, and after that came the wedding and the baby, each one a major expense.
To be honest, if he’d been a Sterling City man born and bred, he’d have been just about perfect.
He wasn’t very old, yet he was devoted to his family, with a steady income to boot.
A wife and child who followed him wouldn’t live in luxury, but at least they’d be spared any real hardship.
But life has no ifs.
Of all the old gossips she knew in Sterling City, not one had a son his age as steady or as good at making money as he was.
But what of it?
Those sons were Sterling City born, and girls from out of town still fought each other to climb aboard their boats.
Mrs. Sutton laid down her fork and said sternly,
“It’s New Year’s. What are you crying for? I’m worried about you, that’s all. House prices in Sterling City keep climbing. If you don’t buy early, who knows how high they’ll go, and then even if you want to buy, you won’t be able to afford it.”
Caleb said nothing for a while. Nursing a small glass of wine, he finally said,
“Before next July, I’ll buy a house inside the Third Ward. You have my word.”
“Anybody can talk big. You need real ability to back it up.”
Margaret trusted nothing less than spoken promises. Mr. Sutton had once been so promising himself, a clerk with a steady place in the territorial land office for years, and they’d still let him go the moment they felt like it.
Now his wages were just over twenty dollars a month.
Compared with those Sterling City natives who’d gotten rich selling their family lots to the railroad, they were worlds apart.
“That’s enough, both of you. Cut it out.”
Mr. Sutton felt helpless. It was New Year’s, after all. Why pick a time like this for all these needless words?
His son-in-law never showed up without bringing gifts worth several dollars.
He clinked glasses with Caleb, but the meal tasted of nothing to Mr. Sutton after that.
He barely had to say a word before Clara was ready to leave with Little Annie.
Mr. Sutton tried to keep them, but it was no use. After they’d gone, he sighed,
“A fine New Year’s, and you have to go saying such unpleasant things?”
“If he thinks it’s unpleasant, well, I think it’s unpleasant too.”
Margaret raised her brows, plainly put out. “My daughter’s so beautiful. If she stays with him and can’t even live in a proper city house, better to break it off sooner than later.”
“Exactly. I don’t want a brother-in-law with no schooling and no career, a street peddler. It’s embarrassing even to mention him.”
Winnie sneered in agreement.
Mr. Sutton sighed in resignation. He knew he couldn’t change his wife and daughter, so he went and washed the dishes himself.
...
The livery stable.
When he got to his own buggy, the stable boy handed Caleb a bundle of letters and a telegram that had come for him over the holiday.
It was all New Year’s greetings from his family.
Mama: “Son, Happy New Year. Take care of yourself out there.”
Tucked inside her letter was something more.
A postal money order from his mother for a dollar eighty-eight, marked “Happy New Year.” Mama always did favor the eights.
Mama: “Everything’s fine at home. We even had a family supper at your grandpa’s this morning, and everyone’s in good health, so don’t you worry. Is it cold in Sterling City? Remember to dress warm.”
“Be good to yourself. A body can’t earn all the money in the world in one lifetime.”
His little sister: “Brother, why didn’t you come home this year? Did you buy a new buggy? Grandpa and Grandma were so happy to hear you bought a Concord. They keep asking when you’ll come visit.”
Papa: “Take care out there.”
A mother’s worry travels a thousand miles with her child. If you asked who would stand by you all the while you grew up, it would be none other than your own mother.
Home was still the warmest place. So long as you were doing all right, they’d never fault you for this or that.
He wished he could go home right now for a true family reunion.
From the Third Ward out to North Hollow was near on twenty-five miles. Over the holidays there were fewer wagons on the road; lots of folks had gone back to their farms and hometowns.
The city wasn’t so crowded, and Clara drove smoothly all the way home.
In their courtyard, a good few people hadn’t gone home either.
Like their neighbor Lily, who worked terribly hard. She played bit parts with hardly a line to them, but she gave them her best all the same.
And then there was the Young Marshal, Tom Tate, who still hadn’t found himself a sweetheart.
He actually had some savings. He could lay his hands on forty dollars easy, and that wasn’t all.
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