A Bride at Last (3 page)

Nadine finished her breakfast and prepared herself to face down Danielle Laidlaw.

“Grandma, I need to talk to you.”

Danielle blinked, put down her fork and crossed
her hands on the table in front of her. “This sounds serious.”

“It is. I like organizing my own social life, choosing my own friends. I don’t think you need to invite suitable young men over for tea.”

“I didn’t really invite Patrick. He asked himself over. He wanted to see you,” Danielle insisted.

Nadine stared across the table at her grandmother, ignoring the remark. “I don’t want you inviting anyone over for tea, okay, Grandma?”

Grandma Laidlaw smiled back at her, unperturbed by Nadine’s pique. “I’m sorry, Nadine,” she continued, her tone contrite. “I’m sorry you feel like I’m interfering in your life. I just want you to be happy, settled. That’s all.” She got up and took the teapot off the stove. “Do you want a cup of tea yet, honey? It’s your favorite kind. I got it in that store on the corner. The one with that good-looking young cashier.”

“No, thanks.” Nadine frowned, her anger fading. But somehow, she knew her grandma had done it again. Taken the wind out of her sails and then changed tack.

“Well, then, you probably should get going. Make sure you’re home on time tonight. We’ve got company for supper.”

Nadine stopped, her frustration trying to find an outlet, trying to find words. “Who?” she sputtered, angry with her own reaction, angry that she couldn’t seem to find the right words to make her grandmother understand.

“I know you said no more interfering, but I had invited Dr. McCormack for supper tonight a couple of days ago. I can’t change that now. He works in the new clinic I’ve been visiting,” Grandma said quickly.

Nadine’s resolve from the previous evening returned with a vengeance. Grandma just didn’t get it. If Nadine couldn’t come up with her own boyfriend it looked as if she was going to spend the rest of her life across the supper table from potential suitors as her grandmother recounted her accomplishments, going back to kindergarten. Well, two could play that game.

“I won’t be home,” she said firmly.

Grandma frowned. “Why not? You’re not working, are you?”

She wasn’t and she knew she had to do some fast work to avoid a repeat of last night and many other nights. “Actually…” What, what? She actually was going to do…what? Her mind flew over the possibilities and then latched on to one in desperation. “I have a date.” She smiled in triumph.

“A date? With who?”

Oh, brother. Who? “Uh…Trace.”

Grandma frowned again. “I’ve never heard of this Trace fellow. What kind of a name is that? What is his last name?”

This was getting harder. She didn’t even know where she had pulled the name Trace from. It had just popped into her mind. Now he needed a last name, to boot. “Trace…Bennet,” she quickly
added. Nice name, respectable name, she thought to herself. “He’s a great guy. I met him a couple of months ago at the Agribition in Edmonton when I was doing a story on the farm family of the year.” She rinsed off her bowl, unable to look her grandmother in the eye, and bit her lip to stop the flow of drivel mixed with absolute fibs.

“You never told me about this.” Grandma sounded hurt.

Nadine shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring a stab of guilt. She reminded herself of the stories Grandma had spun to Patrick and the fact that Grandma had told her Dr. McCormack was coming over only seconds after Nadine had specifically asked her not to invite prospective boyfriends.

“I’m meeting him in Eastbar,” Nadine said, turning with a smile at her grandmother. “I have to do a review on a new movie showing there.” Time to quit, Nadine, she thought.

Grandma sat back in her chair, almost pouting. “That’s so too bad. I was really hoping for you to meet Dr. McCormack. He’s quite good-looking.”

“Well.” Nadine lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Sorry, but I can’t break a date with Trace.” She brushed a quick kiss on her grandmother’s cheek. “So long,” she added, straightening.

Grandma caught her hand and squeezed it as Nadine straightened. “Do you like this man?”

Nadine almost relented at the sight of her grandmother’s worried expression. Grandma really did only mean the best, she thought. But she steeled
herself, knowing that Grandma’s strongest ammunition was her concern and consideration. “We’re just getting to know each other, Grandma. These things take time.”

“Well, then, it shouldn’t matter if I ask someone else over, should it?”

She just wouldn’t give up, thought Nadine incredulously, holding her grandmother’s gaze, determined not to back down. “I have a boyfriend now, Grandma. You don’t have to worry about me. You never had to.” And with that she turned and left before she was forced to make up any more lies.

Trace Bennet, Trace Bennett, she repeated to herself as she walked out the door. I’ve got to remember that name! She stepped out and hurried down the walk, her guilt hanging over her like a dark cloud.

C
lint stepped out of his office into the airy, spacious foyer. It still held that new smell of paint and carpet glue. He had ordered the renovations as soon as he took over, knocking out one wall and putting a curved, chest-high divider that acted as reception desk. The room was done up in shades of cream and hunter green. The staff referred to it as the restaurant, but most agreed that it made the office look more professional and inviting.

Sharlene was already at her desk, answering the phone and trying to bring a measure of order to the office.

“When Nadine comes, can you tell her I’d like to see her right away?” he instructed the receptionist.

Sharlene nodded, and just as he was about to go back to his office, the door opened with a jangle of chimes and Nadine stepped into the room, rubbing
her hands. A flow of cold air accompanied her and as she looked up, she stopped, glancing at Clint, then sharply away.

Clint couldn’t stop the nudge of disappointment at her reaction. It was no different than usual, but it still bothered him.

He cleared his throat. “When you’ve got a few minutes, Nadine, I’d like to see you.”

“Okay. I’ll be there right away.” Without giving him another glance, Nadine walked to Sharlene’s desk and leaned on the divider. “Any mail for me?”

“Just these. And a letter with no return address.”

Nadine caught the letter, turned it over and shoved it in her ever-present knapsack. “I’ll get the others when I come back.”

Finally she turned back to Clint, her head back as if challenging him. Clint bit back a sigh. Why did he even bother with this woman? She would never let down her guard with him. She would never come to care for him as he did for her. But as he caught her eyes, he saw pain and weariness behind the light of challenge, and he felt the impulse to hold her, comfort her.

He would just have to be patient. After all, didn’t the Bible tell us that love is patient?

“You wanted to see me right away?” she said.

“If you have a moment.”

Nadine shrugged. “Better get me now before the phone starts ringing.”

Clint ushered her into his office, but before she
sat down he offered her a cup of coffee, which she declined.

“You mean I don’t even get to show you what a sensitive, caring guy I am?” he joked in an attempt to alleviate the mood.

She looked up quickly, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. Clint smiled back as he sat down.

“I know what kind of man you are,” she said quietly.

That stopped him. Things were looking up. And he needed all the optimism he could muster.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

Clint took a breath, trying to find the right words, reminding himself that he was the general manager and protecting the newspaper was his first priority, not furthering his personal relationship with his editor. He rested his arms on his desk. “I wanted to ask you about an article on Skyline Contractors that I found in the computer archives. It was under your byline, but obviously not ready for press yet. Is it news?”

Nadine’s face hardened and Clint sighed. “I got some information from a former employee about some discrepancies in their accident reports…” she said slowly.

“Who verified it?”

“A former employee who used to drive Cat for them. Of course, the operative words are ‘used to.’ He heard a few things he shouldn’t have, repeated them to me and now he, too, is a former employee.”
She leaned forward. “Trust me, Clint. This is a story and it’s good.”

“I don’t want you to write the story.”

“If you want to pull rank on me, Clint, that’s fine. But before we go any further, I want to talk to the editors of other papers in the organization. They have as much a stake in this fight as we do. You know they’ll take my part. I have to run this story.”

“Skyline will kill themselves in the long run. Do you really think they need our help?”

Nadine held his gaze. “Well, it seems to me to be a good cause, so I say why not?”

Clint knew she was right, but he also knew that he had to make sure she wasn’t setting out stories just for the sake of antagonizing a company that had their lawyer’s number on speed dial “Why not? Because this time they might take us to court, for one reason.” He pulled back his frustration. The newspaper business was a tough go and he was thankful for the loyal readership and the comfortable living he was making. He wanted to keep it that way.

Nadine shrugged. “Their lawyers make a lot of noise, but they always back down when we respond.”

“Have you talked to anyone who works for Skyline now?” he persisted.

“C’mon Clint. The management likes me as much as you do.”

Her comment hit him, hard. “What do you mean by that?”

Nadine shrugged, not deigning to reply, looking anywhere but at him.

He got up from his desk, puzzled that she should think that, and wondering if maybe that wasn’t the key, the true reason she kept herself at such a distance from him. “Why would you think I dislike you?”

As he came to stand beside her, she stood as well, looking up at him, her dark eyes wide.

He remembered the smile she had given him just a few moments ago, wondering what she would do if he touched her cheek, if he ran his fingers through her hair as he always wanted to, if he…

“WordCo is on line two for you, Mr. Fletcher.” Sharlene’s voice on the intercom pierced the heavy atmosphere. Clint blinked, Nadine took a step back.

“Well, I’d better get going. You look pretty busy,” she said with a short laugh. She picked up her knapsack, slung it over her shoulder and left.

Clint turned back to the phone, frustrated and angry at the intrusion. He punched the button and answered curtly, “Hello.”

“Hey, Clint. Don Pederson here. How are you?”

Clint sighed at Don’s fake friendliness. Sounds like a salesman, he thought, even though Don wasn’t selling. He was buying, and what he wanted to buy was Clint’s small string of newspapers.

“You actually did it?” Donna stabbed her French fry in the ketchup with a grin. “My pure, unadulterated friend actually fibbed to her grandmother?”

Nadine blew her breath out in a sigh and leaned her elbows on the pink tabletop of the Downtown Deli. “I had to. First it’s Patrick Quinn last night for tea, then Dr. McCormack tonight for supper.”

“Dr. McCormack?” Donna grimaced and shook her head. “He’s about fifteen years older than us and, while I think bald men can be very attractive, on him it’s not.” She leaned forward. “So what name did you give this pretend guy?”

Nadine closed her eyes in concentration. She had to write his name down somewhere or she was going to blow it completely. “Trace Bennet.”

Donna pulled her mouth down. “Sounds like a country and western singer. What does he look like?”

“Goodness, Donna. He’s fake.”

“Knowing your grandma, she’s going to phone me asking about all the gory details. We’re going to have to do a biography on this guy.” Donna laughed. “We need hair color, eye color…” She pursed her lips, thinking. “Job, place of employment”

“Don’t bother.” Nadine waved a hand over the table in dismissal. “I just blurted it out this morning because I was angry, and wanted to keep her off my back. There’s no getting around it. I’m just going to have to go home and tell her, ‘Grandma, move out.’”

“Why don’t you let her stay and you move out?”

“Don’t tempt me.” Nadine pursed her lips as she looked out of the café’s window, which faced the
newspaper office. Some days it seemed as if her life stretched ahead of her like a prairie road. Predictable and the same. Not that she needed high adventure, she added to herself. She was content here in Derwin. She enjoyed her work, enjoyed her life. She just wished she had someone she could share it with. She recalled her morning meeting with Clint. The way he’d looked at her just before the phone call. For a moment it had seemed as if something was building between them. Nadine shook her head, dismissing the notion. Just wishful thinking. She wasn’t his type.

She glanced up at the clock. “Yikes. I’ve got to get going. I promised Fletcher I’d get pictures of the rodeo.”

“And you’ve got to get ready for a big date,” Donna teased.

“Right” Nadine paid the bill, tossed a wave at Donna and left.

Donna watched her go. She knew her friend wouldn’t be able to face down dear little Grandma Laidlaw. Nadine might be able to poke holes in Clint Fletcher’s composure and fast-talk her way out of awkward interviewing situations, but family situations were another story. There Nadine always avoided rocking the boat.

And now Nadine was making up fake boyfriends in a bid to keep her grandmother off her back. But Donna knew, if Nadine had her way, she wouldn’t keep up the sham very long. A very principled person was her friend Nadine.

Well, Donna was going to give things a little push and help Nadine persuade Grandma that Nadine was just fine. She grinned. Donna knew Grandma Laidlaw and knew exactly how to go about it.

The movie was a dud. Nadine struggled through it, scribbled a few comments and as soon as the credits began to roll, fled the theater. Outside, the streetlights had just come on, competing with the setting sun. The evening still held vestiges of the day’s warmth, and beyond the town Nadine could hear the faint drone of combines and tractors harvesting the fields.

She knew she should have been home, working over some stories for the next issue, but she had told Grandma she would be out tonight.

If Grandma found out she’d gone alone to the film, she would start her matchmaking all over again. It was frustrating, not to mention slightly humiliating. Before Jack, Nadine had never gone out with many guys, just a few casual dates. But nothing had ever clicked. And after she broke up with Jack she ended up back in Derwin, taking care of her mother.

Nadine loved her job, loved where she lived. The time she had spent going to school in the city had cured her of any desire to work and live there. But the other reality was staying in Derwin, slowly seeing her friends move away or marry the boy they had gone out with since high school.

Nadine hadn’t dated much in high school, and had
never really minded that much. Until Clint Fletcher. How acutely she’d felt the lack of a boyfriend once Clint began dating her older sister. How awkward and boring she’d felt watching Sabrina make him laugh, when all Nadine could do was debate the most ponderous issues. How it had hurt to watch him leave the house with Sabrina for their dates, even though she would never admit that she had been attracted to Clint from the first moment she’d seen him.

When Clint came back to Derwin, it was as if her life had suddenly turned back. Old emotions melded with new ones and it seemed that each time she and Clint met it was with wary cynicism on her part and an impassive seriousness on his. Nadine was left to wonder at the irony of life and puzzle out what exactly God planned for hers.

Nadine squinted up at the darkening sky, past the streetlights of Eastbar. The crescent moon hung in the sky above her. A few of the brighter stars showed themselves in the blue-black sky. Beyond these lay more stars, more constellations, other galaxies. She stared upward, aware of what a small part of creation she really was. Just a small speck in the whole cosmos that God had created. She kept busy with the Mission Committee at the church. She went to the Wednesday-evening Bible study when she wasn’t on assignment. Each Christmas she joined the choir to sing at the nursing homes and the city jail. She enjoyed her work, but lately, when she
came home, she felt as if something was missing. Did she really have a right to expect more?

She knew she didn’t, but once in a while a deep yearning overrode her desire to be alone. A yearning to have someone waiting at home besides an older grandmother who didn’t really need her.

Her parents had had that, thought Nadine, giving an empty can a tinny kick. She remembered her big, burly father, his warm hugs, smelling of diesel and sawdust. When his work required it, he would stay in the bush for a week. This was in the days when hand harvesting was more common, before mechanical machines took a week to chomp their way through what would have been a full winter’s work. Nadine remembered how he used to grab her mother around her waist and swing her off the floor, singing loudly. Her mother would laugh, wrap her arms around his neck and sing along. The waiting was over. The man of the house had returned. All was well.

Now, instead of life amidst her parents and sisters, all she had at home was her dear, meddling grandmother.

Nadine thought back to her conversation with Donna and wondered if she could put Grandma off the scent with her fake boyfriend. She knew beyond a doubt that she didn’t have the resources to maintain the fib. This “date” would have to be a onetime thing, she mused, pulling out the keys to her car. She was surprised she’d gotten this far.

Nadine glanced at her watch. Too early to go home. It would have to be coffee at the Derwin Inn.

“I’ll just have a coffee, Katya.” Nadine smiled up at the waitress, who nodded and tucked her order pad back into her apron.

Nadine sipped the hot brew, wondering how long she dared draw this out. It was only 10:30 p.m. Grandma would still be up.

She looked around the coffee shop of the Derwin Inn, a place known more for its food than its coffee. The Derwin Inn had new owners since the last time she’d been here. Skylights had been installed framed by boxes of ivy, leaves cascading downward, echoed by umbrella plants strategically located to break up the space. The room was painted a soft yellow, and the windows had scarves of ivory and green draped across them. It looked more like a spacious living room than a coffee shop.

Nadine tried to imagine hefty truckers sitting at the delicate, glass-topped tables and smiled at the picture.

“Share the joke?” The deep voice beside her broke into her thoughts. She jumped, her hand hitting her coffee cup.

She grabbed a handful of napkins and, still mopping up, turned to face Clint Fletcher. “You scared me out of my wits,” she accused him, her heart pounding.

“Now, that conjures up an interesting image. Nadine without her wits,” he said dryly, still towering
over her, his one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other resting on the table.