Forsaken Dreams by MaryLu Tyndall Read Free Book Online

skinny man, whom Hayden now remembered was Mr. Ladson’s accountant, slid his spectacles up his nose. “Mr. Ladson and I have another business dealing later tonight.”
    “Another venture, sir?” Hayden smiled at Ladson. “It would seem your visit to Charleston has been quite lucrative.”
    “Indeed, Mr. Jones. First your deal involving a hundred acres of cultivated farmland and then another deal with Mr. Haley involving a grand investment in a railroad. The South is indeed prime for the picking!”
    Hayden ignored the man’s ravenous glee. In fact, he ignored everything else but the name Haley—a name that sent his stomach into his throat. “Mr. Martin Haley?”
    “The same. Do you know him?”
    Hayden painted a nonchalant mask on his face to disguise the hatred roiling within, something he had grown quite adept at doing over the years. Haley . One of his father’s aliases. “I’ve made his acquaintance.” He tapped his fingers over the rough wood.
    The skinny man’s eyes lit up. “Do you vouch for his integrity, Mr. Jones?”
    Hayden could barely restrain his laughter. As it was, he coughed into his hand to hide any telltale expression sneaking onto his face. “Of course. He’s a fair man. In fact, I have some business with him myself.”
    The men exchanged a glance before Mr. Ladson said. “Well, you best hurry. I believe Mr. Haley said he was leaving town tomorrow.”
    “Leaving?” Hayden kept his tone nonchalant.
    “Yes, headed for Brazil on some wild scheme to buy up land so the South can rise again”—he lifted his mug of ale in mock salute—“or some such nonsense.”
    Hayden sifted this new information through his mind, pondering the implications. It sounded just like his father to run off to Brazil on some harebrained enterprise. The barmaid returned with his port. After flipping her a coin and sending her a wink that made her giggle, he downed the drink in a single gulp.
    The skinny man pulled out a leather satchel that Hayden hoped was full of money, while Hayden withdrew the writ of sale from his coat pocket along with a pen and ink and laid them on the table. Cultivated farmland, indeed. The property Mr. Ladson had toured was such, but the land he was purchasing was nothing but a swamp.
    The accountant grabbed the document and scanned it in the lantern light, his beady eyes shifting back and forth. A drop of sweat slid from his slicked-back hair onto his forehead.
    “I assure you everything is in order,” Hayden said. Mr. Ladson picked up the pen, dipped it in ink, and anxiously awaited his friend’s approval.
    Just sign the paper and give me the money . Hayden hid his urgency behind a placid smile. Once this deal was completed, he would leave a far richer man than when he’d arrived. And just in the nick of time. He was down to his last twenty dollars. And the crème de la crème of this fortuitous night would be that afterward he would follow these slatterns to their meeting with his father. Finally, he would have his revenge.
    He shoved down a pinch of regret over swindling Mr. Ladson. The man was a Northerner who hated the South. He certainly deserved far worse. Besides, he had plenty of money. Yet even those excuses did not stop the accusations that constantly rang in Hayden’s ears day and night, the words that stabbed his conscience and haunted his dreams.
    You’re just like your father .
    A shadow drifted over the table, causing the lantern flame to sputter and cower. Mr. Ladson hesitated, pen poised over the document that would free Hayden to pursue his father without any encumbrances.
    A voice accompanied the shadow. “Hayden Gale?”
    Hayden gazed up into a pair of seething eyes set deep in a pudgy face. Hair bristled on the back of his neck. “I’m afraid you are mistaken, sir. There is no one here by that name. Now if you don’t mind.” He batted him away. “We have personal business to discuss.”
    Gruff hands grabbed Hayden by the coat and hauled him from the