Wild Hearts. Sharon Sala

the news, and then embarrassed because his kids wouldn’t stop asking where Mr. Phillips was because he always let them pet the hens. Everyone wanted details and then was shocked by her terse answers. Dallas was in tears again by the time the last one left.

      It was two hours later before she got a chance to resume her search, and the next place she wanted to look was the old desk. As a child, she’d learned where the secret compartments were and had been fascinated by the idea of finding hidden treasures. Now all she wanted were answers.

      She sat down and opened the rolltop. Usually there was a faint layer of dust on the surface because he never used it anymore, but to her surprise it was not only clean, but she could smell the faint scent of furniture polish.

      “Weird,” she muttered.

      In her whole life, she had never known her dad to clean that thoroughly. Then she shrugged it off. Once in a while he did have someone come out and clean for him. That was probably what had happened here.

      She sat for a moment, looking at all the drawers and slots, and then began opening them one by one. The drawers were empty. All the slots where things could have been filed were squeaky-clean. When she looked in the first hidden drawer she found a penny and then leaned back, her hand shaking as she took it out. The date on it was 1943. She distinctly remembered finding this penny beneath an old brick when she was just a kid. Certain it was worth millions because it was so old, she’d run to the house to show her mother, only to be told it wasn’t all that old and it was still only worth a penny. Not to be deterred, Dallas had cleaned it up, then hidden it in the secret drawer to let it get older. She dropped it back into the drawer and pushed it shut with a click.

      Only one secret drawer left, and it was at the back of the long drawer. She pulled the drawer out and set it aside, then got down on her knees and pushed. When a second door gave way, she thrust her hand inside, and when she felt a folded piece of paper, her heart actually skipped. She pulled it out, then sat down with her back against the desk to read it.

      It took her a few moments to realize what she was looking at, and then she read it again in disbelief.

      “What the hell? Why would you do this?” she mumbled, and then noticed the date.

      It was the same year that she’d started college. Surely this was no longer valid? But what if it was? And that was when she panicked.

      She scrambled to her feet and ran for the phone book, found the number she needed and called it with her fingers shaking so hard she kept misdialing. Finally the call went through.

      “First State Bank. How may I direct your call?”

      “I need to speak to Mr. Standish. Tell him Dallas Phillips is calling.”

      “One moment, please.”

      Dallas groaned. God, but she hated hearing music when she’d been put on hold. The longer she waited, the worse it became, until the tension was making her sick to her stomach. Unable to sit still, she began to pace. When Gregory Standish finally answered, his voice was so forceful it made Dallas flinch.

      “Hello, this is Standish.”

      Dallas opened her mouth and then had to pinch her nose to keep from screaming.

      “Mr. Standish, this is Dallas Phillips.”

      “Dallas, my dear, I was so sorry to hear of your father’s passing. You have my sympathy, of course. Now, what can I do for you?”

      “I just found the paperwork on an old loan my Dad took out at your bank some years back. I knew nothing about this and wonder if you can tell me when it was paid off.”

      Standish frowned and then cleared his throat. He had been dreading this conversation, although he hadn’t expected it to happen for a few weeks, which was when the balance of the loan, in its entirety, would come due.

      “Let me check our records. The computers are slow today, so give me a few moments.” She heard the clicking of keys as he checked the computer. “Ah, yes, here we are. Your father did indeed take out a loan some years back. He’d been paying on it regularly until two years back, but I’m afraid he’s been in arrears ever since. I believe he and I discussed this briefly earlier in the spring, but I hadn’t heard from him since.”

      “How much does he still owe?” she asked.

      Standish cleared his throat again.

      “A little over fifty thousand dollars. Interest accrued rather rapidly with the missed payments.”

      The room was beginning to spin. Dallas dropped down on her knees to keep from falling.

      “What did you tell him when you...when you talked in the spring?”

      Standish cleared his throat one more time.

      “I believe he understood that if the money wasn’t paid in full, he would lose the collateral, which was his farm.”

      Dallas gasped. “The farm? The one that’s been in our family for over a hundred and fifty years?”

      “Yes.”

      “What date would that take place?”

      “Twenty-seven days from today.”

      “I’m listed on his checking account. Can you please verify the amount in that account?”

      More clicking of keys.

      “Seven thousand, five hundred and twelve dollars, and thirty cents.”

      “And his savings account?” she asked.

      “He doesn’t have one.”

      “What? I don’t understand. Dad always had—”

      “Actually, the amount in his checking account is from a transfer from savings made about six months ago. I’m afraid that’s all that’s left.”

      “So my Dad was about to lose the farm?”

      “Yes, and I’m sorry to be the one to give you this news.”

      Stunned, Dallas disconnected without even saying goodbye, then stood and stared out the window at the scene before her. She’d seen it a thousand times before and never thought it remarkable in any way. It was the same pasture, with the same mountain looming behind it. She looked at the barn, built before the house in which she was standing, and then thought of all the people who’d lived here, and the years of toil and hardship they had suffered to keep themselves afloat. Generation after generation had lived and died beneath this roof, and now she was going to lose it because she’d wanted to go to college, and her parents hadn’t told her no. They hadn’t told her they couldn’t afford it. They’d never said, “You need to work your way through if you want to go.” They’d just sent her on her merry way, and she’d never thought twice about how they’d made it work, because she’d been so wrapped up in losing Trey and, at the same time, realizing she was about to live her dream.

      All of a sudden bile was burning the back of her throat and she was racing to the bathroom. She threw up until her sides were aching and her throat was raw, and then she staggered to her bedroom and collapsed from the weight of her guilt.