Serena raised her index finger to her chin, held it there a moment as if bemused.
"Why is this pretense necessary, gentlemen?" she said. "We know what's going on with these land grabs. You've already run two thousand farmers off their land, that's according to your own census. We can't make people work for us and we can't buy their land unless they want to sell it, yet you force them from their livelihood and their homes."
Davis was about to speak but Albright raised his hand. The Secretary's visage achieved a profound solemnity Pemberton suspected was an innate talent of undertakers as well as career diplomats.
"An unfortunate aspect of what has to be done," Albright said. "But like Mr. Webb, I believe it's ultimately for the common good of all people in these mountains."
"And therefore all should sacrifice equally, correct?" Serena said.
"Certainly," Albright agreed, and as he did so Davis grimaced.
Serena took a sheaf of papers from her pocket and placed them on the table.
"This is part of the bill passed by the Tennessee legislature. In it are provisions stating that a number of wealthy landowners will be exempt from eminent domain. They get to keep their land, even though it's inside your proposed park. Perhaps your New York Times reporter can do an article about that."
"We had to have their support at that time," Davis replied. "If we hadn't, the park would have been doomed from the start. That was 1927, not today."
"We expect nothing more than to be treated like other wealthy landowners," Serena said.
"That just can't be done now," Davis said, shaking his head.
"Can't or won't?" Harris jeered.
"We'll get this land either way," Davis said, his voice now strident, "and if it's by eminent domain you'll be lucky to get half what we're offering now."
Albright gave a deep sigh and leaned back.
"No final answer is needed today," he said, looking at Buchanan and Wilkie, who'd been silent during the exchange. "Discuss it among yourselves. And consider the fact that Mr. Rockefeller is a businessman like all of you, yet he has given five million dollars. Think about how little in comparison we're asking of Boston Lumber Company."
Buchanan nodded. "We'll certainly discuss the matter."
"Yes," Wilkie said. "We appreciate your coming all this way to talk to us personally."
"My pleasure," Albright said and raised his hands, palms open in a gesture of mollification. "As I said, nothing need be decided today. We'll be in Tennessee this weekend but back in Asheville Monday. We're beginning negotiations with your fellow timberman, Colonel Townsend. His Elkmont tract has more virgin hardwoods than any land in the Smokies, yet we're offering you the same price per acre as him."
"He's taking your offer seriously?" Serena said.
"Very much so," Davis said. "He's smart enough to know a small profit is better than a big loss."
Secretary Albright stood and the rest of the delegation rose as well. Wilkie and Buchanan accompanied them as they walked back to the train.
"A total waste of time," Harris complained on the office porch.
"I disagree, Mr. Harris," Serena said. "We may have learned about a tract we can invest in together."
"Ah," the older man said, his smile broadening enough to show glints of gold. "That would be something, wouldn't it? Buying Townsend's land out from under them would really throw a monkey wrench in this park business."
Harris paused and watched as the train pulled out and headed back to Waynesville. He took out his car keys, jangled them loosely in his palm before enclosing them in his fist, mimicking a throw of the dice.
"Let's get it in touch with Townsend. They've mined copper on that tract. I don't know how much, but I can find out. This could be a boon for both of us, virgin hardwoods for you and copper for me."
Harris walked out to his Studebaker and drove off. As Pemberton and Serena walked toward the stable, Pemberton saw Buchanan and Wilkie lingered beside the tracks though the train had disappeared over McClure Ridge.
"I believe Buchanan's wavering."
"No, he's not wavering" Serena said. "He's already decided."
"How do you know?"
"His eyes. He wouldn't look our way, not once." Serena smiled. "You men notice so little, Pemberton. Physical strength is your gender's sole advantage."
Pemberton and Serena stepped inside the stable, pausing a moment to let their eyes adjust. The Arabian stamped his foot impatiently at Serena's approach. She unlatched the wooden door and led the gelding out.
"Wilkie wasn't as resolute as he usually is either," Pemberton said.
"Hardly," Serena said. "They stroked him like a housecat and he purred."
She paused and lifted the saddle, placed it below the horse's withers.
"So if Buchanan sides against us," Pemberton said, "you believe Wilkie could be swayed as well?"
"Yes."
"So what should we do?"
Serena led the Arabian to the mounting block and handed the reins to Pemberton.
"We'll rid ourselves of Buchanan."
She strapped the gauntlet on her right forearm and opened the adjacent stall where the eagle waited quiet and unmoving as a soldier at attention. It's a Berkute, Serena had told Pemberton the week after the creature arrived, much like the golden eagles she and her father hunted with in Colorado, only bigger and stronger, more fierce. The Kazakhs hunted wolves with them, and Serena had claimed Berkutes attacked even snow leopards given the opportunity. Looking at the eagle's huge talons and muscled keel, Pemberton believed it possible.
Serena emerged from the stall, the bird on her arm. She stepped onto the mounting block, then slipped her left foot in the stirrup and swung onto the saddle. Serena's legs and hips clinched the horses saddled midsection as she balanced herself. It was a deft maneuver, equal parts strength and agility. The eagle raised its wings a moment, resettled them as if also balancing itself.
"Are you still hunting with Harris Sunday?" Serena asked.
"Yes."
"Ask Buchanan to come along as well. Tell him it'll give the two of you a chance to discuss the Secretary's offer. On the way out there, talk to Harris some more about the Townsend land, maybe also mention the Jackson Country tract Luckadoo called you about. You probably won't have a chance to talk afterward."
Because? Pemberton almost said, but then understood. Serena stared fixedly at Pemberton, her pupils waxing in the barn's muted light.
"I need to get that second skidder up and running Sunday morning, but I could join you in the afternoon. I can do it, if you want me to."