Heiress

“I can do what I think is best if you’re willing to trust me that far.”

“I have no one else to trust, so please settle this estate as you would if it had been received by one of your children.”

“Very well. I promised Harrison that I would assist you in any way possible. Also, I will have his accountant refer any financial matters to me for the time being. Within a few months you will be more qualified to make decisions. For the present, you will have all you can do to take over the management of Page Publishing. I’ll take you there today.”

“Do I have to go so soon?”

“Yes, I believe so. The employees are quite edgy. Several of them have contacted me trying to find out what is going to happen to the business, but I had no right to divulge the contents of Harrison’s will without your permission. It isn’t fair to keep them in the dark any longer.”

Allison referred to the copy of Harrison’s will that she carried. “Who are the people named in his will?”

“Of course you know who I am, and I’m flattered that Harrison chose to remember me.” He read the names from the will. “Adra and Minerva McRamey are the caretakers at Harrison’s home. They’ve been in his employ for years. Minerva took care of Harrison’s wife, and of him before he chose to enter a nursing home. The McRameys are in their sixties.”

Curnutt adjusted the nosepiece of his glasses.

“Celestine Handley is an employee at the company. She has been Harrison’s secretary for years, and I question that he would have managed half as well if she hadn’t been there to support him. I’m sure she will be just as helpful to you. Benton Lockhart came to Page Publishing Company out of college and proved his worth right away. He is competent and steady, faithful and devoted to his work, and self-sacrificing for the company. When Harrison became ill two years ago, he made Benton his assistant, and after Harrison was no longer able to come to the office, Benton took charge and has been in charge since. He’s a calm and collected individual and the publishing company has expanded under his leadership.”

The lawyer tapped the document significantly. “All these people have been valuable employees to Harrison, and they deserved to be remembered in his will.”

“I wasn’t implying that they shouldn’t have been, but if I encounter them, I want to know why my uncle regarded them so highly.”

“You’ll probably see all of them today, so it’s well that you know something about them.”

As she folded the document and returned it to her purse, Allison said, “I knew a Benton Lockhart once. I’ve been wondering if it’s the same person.”

“I didn’t know Benton until he came to work at Page Publishing.”

“Then he isn’t a native of Columbus?”

“No. I believe he came from somewhere in Indiana.”

“Then it could be the same person, for I met the Benton Lockhart I’m talking about at a youth crusade in Indianapolis. He was the most fantastic spiritual speaker I’ve ever heard. I had expected him to go into the ministry, but I haven’t heard of him since that time.”

“To my knowledge, Benton isn’t a churchgoer, and although we meet socially from time to time, he’s never impressed me as a man with any spiritual side to his nature.”

Curnutt telephoned the publishing firm and made an appointment to see the entire staff at one o’clock, and while he talked, Allison was conscious of a deep disappointment. She had been hoping to renew the acquaintance with the Benton of her youth.

“That will give us time to have lunch,” Curnutt said when he finished the phone conversation. “There’s a nice café in German Village that provides a light lunch that you’ll enjoy. If you don’t mind, Mary can come with us.”

Allison replied that she didn’t mind in the least.

The Curnutts were delightful company, and as they traveled along the tree-lined brick streets, Mary commented on the unique atmosphere of the tiny Dutch-single and large Dutch-double houses of an earlier century.

“German Village consists of more than two hundred acres and is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. A good way to see it is to take a walking tour because one can get a greater appreciation for the window flower boxes, patio gardens and ornate wrought-iron fences.”

“There are several special events here during the year to celebrate our unique German heritage,” Thomas added. “This is a part of Columbus that the casual tourist doesn’t see. You’ll enjoy visiting this area.”

The small restaurant was decorated with red-and-white gingham tablecloths and cafe curtains. They ate their lunch of bratwurst on a sesame bun, hot potato salad and a fluffy cherry chiffon pudding, while outside, on the sidewalk, a small gaily costumed Alpine band played toe-tapping music, and Allison was able to ignore the stressful afternoon she faced.

After they returned Mary to the office, the attorney maneuvered his Mercedes through the busy noonday traffic and followed High Street north of the capitol, where he turned east on Broad until he reached a five-story buff brick building with Page Publishing Company etched in a stone slab across the front of the structure. Curnutt turned into a narrow driveway between two buildings and parked in the company’s private lot.

“Did Uncle Harrison own the building?”

Curnutt nodded. “And land is at a premium price here, too,” he said as he came around the car and opened the door for her. Allison was doing her best to remain calm, but she felt so weak that she actually welcomed Curnutt’s hand on her arm as he assisted her from the car. What awaited her at this meeting?

“There’s a conference room on the first floor, and that’s where the employees are to assemble. We’ll meet them first and take a tour of the facilities after they go back to their work.”

They walked down the hallway toward a buzz of excited voices that stopped immediately when Curnutt tapped on a half-closed door. He motioned Allison into the room filled with men and women gathered around oblong tables. Allison sat at a table near the door where two other women were already seated. She smiled timidly at them, and they acknowledged her by lifting their hands in silent greeting. She felt ill at ease, but she ran her hand over the fabric of her new suit, thankful that she was dressed appropriately in the latest fashion. Everyone’s attention focused on Thomas Curnutt when he stepped behind a podium in the front of the room.

“I know that many of you have been uneasy about the future of Page Publishing Company, and were even before the owner’s death, but I was not at liberty to divulge any details about his affairs. Now I can tell you that Harrison left the bulk of his estate to his niece Allison Sayre, who accompanies me today.” He paused as a murmur of surprise interrupted him. “That includes this company, so Miss Sayre has become the new owner. She has had two years of experience in the publishing world in her hometown of Chicago. Perhaps you would like to welcome her.”

The applause was perfunctory, hardly cordial, and Allison felt her face flushing. Her embarrassment was so great that she missed Curnutt’s next words and focused only when she heard him say, “Perhaps Miss Sayre has a few words for you.”

Even with her back to them, Allison felt every eye on her, but with a prayer for courage, she stood on trembling legs and, with as much grace as she could muster, turned to face her new employees. Everyone’s attention was riveted on her, and she didn’t see any sign of welcome, though some of the people looked amused. And no wonder—her youth and inexperience must be apparent Others seemed in a state of shock, as Allison was. She hurriedly judged there were about forty people present, and not one of them as young as she. A few of the men’s faces were belligerent and she figured they would refuse to work for her.

Surmising that the less said the better, and praying that her voice wouldn’t tremble, Allison began, “I arrived in town yesterday, so as yet I know nothing about the situation here. I have nothing to say to you now, but please plan for a staff meeting here on Monday morning. By that time, I will have made some plans.”

After she sat down, gloomy over her inadequate words, Curnutt stood again.

“I’m sure that Miss Sayre will appreciate the same faithfulness and cooperation that you gave Harrison Page. We’ll take a tour of the plant this afternoon, and the supervisors should provide any information that will facilitate Miss Sayre’s adjustment. You may return to work now, except I would like Benton and Celestine to remain for a few minutes.”

As the employees filed out, Allison turned eagerly to see which one was Benton Lockhart. A middle-aged woman remained seated, as did a strong, broad-shouldered young man with a close-clipped beard that matched his tawny hair. When the other employees were gone, Curnutt closed the door into the hallway.

“I asked you to remain to give you copies of Harrison’s will since both of you are named in it. He left each of you 5 percent of his total estate, and since I estimate his assets are nearly three million dollars, that should be an ample amount for both of you.” When he handed them the envelopes, he said, “I’m counting on both of you to assist Miss Sayre as she takes over the reins here.”

Celestine dabbed at tearful eyes with a tissue, but she smiled at Allison as she left the room. Benton hadn’t moved and Allison walked toward him. He observed her approach with cool, steady gray eyes sparkling with tiny golden flecks that matched the mellow tints in his hair.

“I’m wondering if you’re the same Benton Lockhart I met several years ago in Indianapolis.”

“I’ve been in Indianapolis several times, so that’s possible.”

“You wouldn’t remember me, but the man I met spoke at an evangelical youth crusade. If you were that person, I want you to know you made a tremendous impact on my life.”

Benton’s gray eyes didn’t change expression, but Allison sensed a chillness settle around him, and his lips twisted in a sardonic smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let me assure you, Miss Sayre, that I am not the same man you heard speak in that spiritual crusade.” He looked past her at the attorney. “If that’s all, Mr. Curnutt; I have a client calling in five minutes.”

Allison’s disappointment was intense. One of the things that had bolstered her during her goodbyes in Chicago and assuaged her fear of taking charge of her uncle’s affairs had been the thought that she might see Benton Lockhart, who could provide the encouragement and guidance she needed during this tumultuous period of her life. Now that her hopes had been dashed, she couldn’t take much interest in the tour of the building.

As Benton moved toward the exit, his glance caught and held Allison’s, and he held out his hand. She was hardly prepared for the jolt that shot up her arm when she met his outstretched fingers, or the warmth in his voice when he said, “I hope your ownership of Page Publishing will be as prosperous and rewarding as it was for your uncle.” With a nod in the lawyer’s direction, he left the room. Was he or was he not the Benton Lockhart she’d once known?

Behind the conference room was a well-equipped kitchen. “This is used by the employees for preparing their lunches,” Curnutt explained. “The conference room doubles as a dining room. On special occasions the management has food catered for the staff.”

The rest of the first floor was the shipping department, which was supervised by Calvin Smith. A man in his thirties, Smith’s careless good looks were accentuated by bold, baby-blue eyes and thick brown hair. He shook hands with Allison and welcomed her to the company.

“Miss Sayre’s advent has deflated Lockhart, hasn’t it, Mr. Curnutt? He has enjoyed being top dog around here.”

“He didn’t seem deflated to me,” Curnutt said quietly as they moved on, and Allison wondered if Benton would resent her ownership.

Taking the service elevator, Curnutt said, “Let’s go to the top and start down.”

The fifth floor was used for storage, so they spent little time there; the fourth floor housed the printing shop, and although she knew very little about it, Allison was impressed by the functional electronic equipment. “Obviously Page Publishing has the very latest in electronic ware,” she said.

“Thanks mostly to Benton Lockhart. Harrison was more conservative in his methods, and as most people of our generation, he understood very little about the computer world. To give him credit, he knew his limitations and followed Benton’s advice. Benton has an engineering degree, as well as a degree in computer science.”

The bookkeeping and billing departments were on the third floor, and numerous computer stations were grouped around the room. “Harrison placed key people as supervisors in each department,” Curnutt explained, “and he didn’t try to learn the whole business himself, nor should you expect to. As long as the company was making a decent profit, he assumed the employees were doing the job they were assigned to do. I know you’re worried about how to manage the business, but you shouldn’t encounter any problems. Meet regularly with the supervisors from each department, ask for weekly reports from them, and as you study them, you’ll learn all you need to know. Perhaps until you know what’s going on, the supervisors should be accountable to Benton and Benton will be accountable to you. Any firing or hiring in the lower ranks should be handled by the supervisors.”

“But shouldn’t I have the final word in case of controversies between employees?”

“That’s debatable. You remember that Moses of biblical history was trying to handle all the controversies between the Hebrews, and his father-in-law convinced Moses that he should observe a chain of command. The company belongs to you, but I’d be mighty careful about meddling in situations between the supervisors and those who work for them.”

Three offices constituted the second floor, which was the main entrance into the building. The customers came first to Celestine’s office, a large room that contained several chairs for customers, her neat computer station and rows of filing cabinets. The room was carpeted and heavy draperies hung at the two windows and muffled the noisy traffic on Broad Street. Benton’s office was to the left, and since he was busy with a customer, Curnutt told Allison she could talk with him later.

Celestine Handley was dark haired with wide cheekbones, and although her skin exhibited some lines of middle age, she was still a beautiful woman. Her dark-green eyes were clear, steadfast, unfaltering, and Allison felt that with this woman’s support, she could take on the mantle that Harrison Page had cast upon her.

Celestine opened the door into the owner’s office, where a large portrait of Harrison Page hung behind the desk. Allison had forgotten what he looked like, for she hadn’t seen him for ten years, but she recognized him immediately, and his resemblance to her mother was startling. The office furniture in the room was worn, but still in good repair. Celestine went behind the desk and opened a drawer. She handed a key ring to Allison.

“Miss Sayre—” she began.

But Allison interrupted. “Please, call me ‘Allison’. Being addressed as ‘Miss Sayre’ makes me feel ancient.” Turning to the attorney, she said, “And you, too, please. That way, I won’t feel such a stranger.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

“Allison,” Celestine started again, a smile lighting her brilliant eyes, “these keys belonged to your uncle. There’s a key here to everything in this building. I don’t know that Mr. Page had any occasion to use them, but it was simply a symbol of his ownership. He could investigate anything he wanted to.” She dropped the large set of keys back into the drawer and handed Allison a ring with two keys on it. “These are the ones you should carry. They open the front and rear entrances and your office door.”

“This will be your office, Allison,” Curnutt said. “Don’t you want to try on the owner’s chair for size?” He smiled at her.

“No, not today,” Allison said, and her facial features felt frozen. Almost as if it were an animate object, the massive leather chair terrified her.

Perhaps sensing Allison’s stress, Celestine said, “Do you have time for a cup of coffee or tea?”

When the attorney assented, Celestine motioned them to a cozy corner of her office. They sat in easy chairs, and Curnutt took up the morning newspaper, placed conveniently for the company’s visitors. He offered Allison a section of the paper, but her mind was too muddled to concentrate on reading.

Celestine opened a nearby louvered door into a small kitchenette. “I have coffee ready, and hot water for tea,” she said, “but we have juice and soft drinks, too.”

Allison wasn’t normally a coffee drinker, but the stress of the day was wearing on her, and she needed a stimulant of some kind. After Celestine served Curnutt and Allison with coffee and placed a fruit tray on the table before them, she prepared a small tray, tapped on Benton’s door and served him and his customer. Allison munched on some grapes, sipped the hot coffee and contemplated the day’s activities. Perhaps the situation wasn’t as bad as she had suspected. She had detected no outright hostility among the employees, and in time, she might win their confidence. Celestine, who displayed all the charm of a hostess in her own home, had done much to put Allison at ease.

While Celestine was busy at her desk and Curnutt was absorbed in the newspaper, Allison reviewed her conversation with Benton Lockhart. She wished that she had brought the album containing the picture of the Benton she’d met in Indianapolis, for, in spite of his denial, she thought he was the same person she had met there. His neatly trimmed whiskers did cover most of his facial features, but one of the things she had most remembered about Benton had been his tawny hair and warm gray eyes.

Let me assure you, Miss Sayre, that I am not the same man you heard speak in that spiritual crusade. That could be interpreted in various ways—it could mean that he was the same person, but his attitude had changed, or it could mean that he had not been there. She couldn’t figure it out And what good would it do her if she did learn the truth? It wouldn’t be wise to delve into the man’s past. If she learned how to manage this firm, it would be with the help of Benton Lockhart; she couldn’t antagonize him.

After Celestine answered the phone a couple of times and searched out some files, which she delivered to Benton’s office, she joined them with a glass of juice in her hand. “I suppose Columbus seems like a small town to you after living in Chicago,” she said.

“I didn’t realize what a large area Chicago covered until I saw it from the airplane when we flew down here a few weeks ago to see Mr. Curnutt. We live in the suburbs and do most of our shopping in the area where we live. We go to downtown Chicago only for special events. But I think Columbus is a fine city, and I’m sure I’ll like living here. Could you advise me about finding a small furnished apartment? I want something fairly close to this business and not too expensive.”

Curnutt laid aside his paper. “Allison, I know it’s difficult for you to comprehend, but you’re a very rich woman now and you don’t have to be conservative in your choice of living quarters. It will be several months before you have complete control of Harrison’s property, but I’ll instruct the bookkeeper here to put you on the payroll, and you’ll receive a bimonthly salary as do the employees. Harrison drew a modest salary, just enough to take care of his expenses, and allowed the rest of the profit to build up the coffers of the company. I would suggest that you do the same for the time being. Do you have any way to anticipate your expenses?”

“I made twenty thousand dollars yearly at my previous job. On that I lived in my own apartment, had a car and saved a little money.”

“We’ll double that amount until you see how much you need.”

Allison pulled at the collar of her blouse, feeling as if her breathing had been hampered. Forty thousand dollars a year! Her father had supported a wife and three children on less than that. Why would a single woman need so much?

“But about your living quarters,” Curnutt continued, “I had assumed that you would live in Harrison’s home, which is yours now.”

“Oh, yes, Allison, you must consider living there,” Celestine insisted. “It’s a wonderful house.”

“Didn’t you say it was a three-story home? I don’t need that much room, and wouldn’t the upkeep be expensive?”

He smiled, and she knew he was amused by her conservatism, but her parents had had no choice but to be conservative; otherwise they couldn’t have supported a family on one salary so Beatrice could stay home and take care of the children. Even with riches at her disposal, it was a habit she wouldn’t lose easily.

“I’m sure your uncle would be pleased with your attitude toward wealth, for he wasn’t a big spender himself, and you’re right, the house is expensive to maintain. Although Harrison didn’t make any stipulation whether you should sell or keep the house, I suggest that you live there for a period of time before you make the decision. It is a largc house, but the caretakers occupy the third floor and take care of cleaning and maintenance, so it shouldn’t be a burden to you.”

“Even sight unseen, I’m willing to take your advice, but I would like to see the house when it’s convenient for you to take me.”

He checked his watch and took his appointment book from his pocket. “We can go right now. I have a dinner appointment at six o’clock, but we have time.” Turning to Celestine, he said, “Please telephone Minerva that we’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

The lawyer traveled on High Street until he turned left on Buttles, drove past Goodale Park to Neil Avenue, where he turned north again. The quiet atmosphere of the area and the Victorian homes on both sides of the street made Allison feel as if she had stepped back in time. Would the Brontë sisters wander out of one of the doors on their way to church? Perhaps Mary Todd Lincoln would be peering from a window, anxiously waiting for her tardy husband. Craning her neck to see each house they passed, Allison was impressed with the asymmetrical brick-and-stucco homes, many massed around a central tower or spire, marked by steeply pitched roofs and narrow arched windows accentuated by hood moldings.

Curnutt drove a couple of blocks before parking the car at street level. He pointed to a massive brick building.

“This surely isn’t it!”

“Harrison Page bought this house about twenty-five years ago. After his wife died, he devoted his time to decorating and furnishing the home as it would have been when it was first built. The house is yours now, and I hope you’ll be pleased with the results of his efforts. Shall we go in?”

“Allow me to sit here for a few minutes and take this all in. Yesterday I thought of a nursery rhyme about an old woman whose appearance was altered, and she kept saying, ‘Lawk a mercy on me, this is none of I!’ I don’t even feel like myself. Nor do I know my own mind. Am I grateful to Uncle Harrison for gifting me with all these material possessions, or should I resent his interference with a life-style that has been sufficient for twenty-four years? Ownership of this house is more daunting than ownership of the publishing company. I don’t know how I can cope with this change in my life.”

Curnutt gave Allison a fond look that she didn’t see, but he was pleased with her, and furthermore, he knew now that Page had made the right decision to convey his estate to this woman, although Curnutt had counseled against the move. In the few hours he had known Allison, he had observed the same qualities in her that had made Harrison Page a respected and wealthy man—determination, loyalty to duty, conservatism and intelligence. He silently thanked God that he had been given the privilege of introducing this young woman to a new world—one in which she would undoubtedly make mistakes, but also one in which he believed she would ultimately triumph.