A Bride at Last (4 page)

Clint hesitated a moment, then pulled out a chair. “Mind if I join you?”

She tried not to let his height intimidate her, tried not to notice how broad his shoulders looked covered by a suit coat. Tried to ignore the increase in her heartbeat at the sight of him.

She shrugged in answer. He could take that how he liked, but deep down, she felt a faint hope that he would stay, then berated herself for still feeling attracted to him after all these years. Feelings he clearly had never shared. Clint Fletcher was her boss and nothing more.

“What story are you covering that keeps you out so late?” he asked as he sat down.

She fiddled with her cup. “I caught the movie in Eastbar, which was dreadful, and thought I’d kill some time before I go home.”

“I take it the review won’t be favorable.” Clint folded his hands on the table and leaned forward.

“Not likely.” Nadine laughed and sat back against her chair. “I’ll probably have Evan Grimshaw accusing me of trying to put him out of business again.”

“Who did you go with?” asked Clint, a little too casually, as he smoothed down his tie.

“No one you’d know,” she replied evasively.

Clint nodded and for a moment Nadine was tempted to drop Trace Bennet’s name. But she knew
Clint with his quick, incisive questions would catch her out, and that would look worse.

“So does your grandmother still live with you?” he asked conversationally.

Nadine traced her finger through the circles of moisture the mug had left behind on the table. “Yes, still,” she replied with a sigh. “She’s a dear old lady, but I do wish she’d go visit my other sisters and bother them for a while.”

A moment of silence hung between them. Clint cleared his throat. “How are your sisters?” he asked hesitantly.

Nadine caught the tone in his voice and, looking up at him, caught a melancholy expression on his face. She wondered if he still missed Sabrina. For a moment she felt sorry for the usually self-possessed Clint Fletcher. She knew exactly what it felt like to be the one spurned, the one left behind. “Sabrina had her first child a few months ago and has just returned to work. Leslie is expecting as well, but she’s quitting her job before the baby is born.”

“She always was a homebody. Just like you.” Clint smiled at Nadine, his expression softening. Then, just as suddenly, the moment was gone. He stood and straightened the cuffs of his shirt and once again became her boss. “Well, I’d better be off. I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“‘Court Docket.’” Nadine grinned at him. “A little bit of a comedown for our esteemed G.M. to have to cover for Wally.”

He paused and for a heartbeat looked as if he was
going to say something else. Then, lifting a shoulder, he turned and left.

Nadine looked down at her half-f coffee cup. Suddenly she felt very alone. A lonely alone, she thought as she set the cup down and dropped a few quarters on the table for Katya, grimacing at her watch.

Grandma would still be up and she would have to answer some tough questions about her “date.”

“C
’mon Nadine,” Grandma called down the hall. “We’re going to be late for church.”

Nadine stifled a wave of impatience with her dear grandma as she straightened a cream-colored sweater over her rust wool skirt and tugged on the elastic holding her hair. It snapped against her hand and her hair slid loose.

“Are you coming?” Grandma called again.

Nadine glanced at the clock and, with a frustrated sigh, grabbed her purse from the bed and slung it over her shoulder. She stopped at the bathroom long enough to quickly brush her hair and grimace at yet another reflection of herself. She felt self-conscious wearing her hair down. A ponytail was far easier, but she could find no elastics in the bathroom, either. Down it would have to stay, she thought.

“Nadine.” Grandma’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp, and Nadine threw the brush into the
drawer. “Coming, coming,” she muttered as she ran down the hallway.

Grandma waited in the porch, her mouth pursed in disapproval. “What took you so long?” she grumbled.

Nadine caught her car keys from the little pegboard hanging by the back door. Without deigning to reply to her grandma, she stepped out on the porch, then strode down the sidewalk to her car.

“You are certainly not in a Sunday mood today,” Grandma chided as she stepped into the vehicle.

“Sorry, Grandma,” Nadine said automatically as she started up the car and backed it onto the street. “But after you cleaned up the other night, I couldn’t find my clothes.”

“I’m sure you didn’t want a mess.” Grandma folded her hands over the small purse she had on her lap. Staring primly ahead, she remained quiet for the rest of the trip.

Church was full again. Over the summer, attendance had waxed and waned, with people leaving for holidays, but now the children were back in school, the harvest was in full swing and the congregation was back to full strength.

“You just go on ahead, Nadine. There’s someone I want to talk to.” Grandma gave Nadine a gentle push into the sanctuary. Nadine frowned at her, wondering what she was scheming now, but when she saw an elderly woman wave toward Danielle, she relaxed.

“Don’t wait too long, Grandma. Church is pretty full,” she warned.

“Don’t worry about me,” Grandma chirped as she walked over to her friend. Nadine shook her head and let the usher show her to an empty spot.

Nadine dropped into the pew and scanned the bulletin that came with the order of worship. It was filled with the usual announcements. Church school was starting again, catechism classes, Ladies’ Society and choir. Nadine made note of the choir practice and began reading a handout from the Mission Committee.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Grandma stop beside the pew, glancing backward down the aisle.

Without looking up, Nadine scooted over for Grandma and her friend, turning the page of the bulletin as she did so.

“Come sit with us,” she heard her grandmother say. Nadine glanced up idly to see who her grandma was talking to. Her heart sank.

Clint Fletcher stood in the aisle, one hand on the pew in front of them, the other in the pocket of his trench coat. Underneath he wore a tailored navy suit, a white shirt and a patterned tie in shades of deep gold and russet. Nadine felt her heart lift at the sight of him.

“Here Nadine. Let Mr. Fletcher sit between us.” As Grandma sat down, she nudged Nadine over. Nadine silently fumed, but could do nothing without
creating a scene. So she merely moved aside so Clint could sit between them.

Nadine picked up the bulletin, trying to ignore both her grandma and the tall figure seated beside her. It couldn’t be done. Clint’s presence exerted a force that she couldn’t ignore. So she thought it would be better to do as she always did and face him head-on, hoping he wouldn’t read anything into Grandma’s little machinations.

“So, what brings my esteemed boss to church this morning?” she said, forcing a teasing grin.

He glanced sidelong at her. “Same thing that brought you.”

Nadine couldn’t resist. “You have a nagging grandma, too?”

Clint smiled and shook his head. “No. A nagging conscience.”

Nadine was taken aback at his quiet admission. No quick reply came to mind, so she picked up her reading where she had left off. But she couldn’t forget what he had said, and during the service she cast sidelong glances at him. His expression was, as usual, serious. He sang along with the hymns, obviously familiar with them. As he listened to the minister Nadine recognized that firm-jaw look that came over his face when he absorbed some particularly important idea.

Nadine was surprised at his intensity. Clint had accompanied Sabrina to church, but she had never gotten the impression from him that his attendance meant anything. She had challenged him once on it
and had received a sarcastic remark. But he didn’t look sarcastic right now.

When the offering was passed, he took the plate, dropped in an envelope and handed it to her. He didn’t let go, however. Nadine looked up at him, puzzled.

“Your hair looks nice like that,” he said quietly.

Nadine raised her eyebrows, almost dropping the plate. Flustered, she handed it to the person beside her, forgetting to put in her own contribution. She tried to stifle the flush that warmed her throat and crept up her cheeks.

Compliments from Clint Fletcher? That was something she had no defense for.

Nadine felt more and more uncomfortable sitting beside her boss. She would manage to bring her mind back to the sermon, but then he would shift his weight, move his long legs or brush her arm with his elbow and she would have to start all over again. Periodically she caught a spicy hint of aftershave. Mentally apologizing to God, she took a deep breath, pulled out a notepad from her purse and focused her entire attention on the minister. The reporter in her made it easier to remember sermons when she took notes.

When the congregation rose for the last song, she finally risked a sidelong glance at him. He looked down at her from his considerable height, and Nadine looked hurriedly away, feeling even more confused.

What did he want from her? Why was he here?

She was relieved when the organist and pianist began the postlude. It wasn’t often that Clint could throw her for a loop, but his presence in church beside her and his unexpected compliment did.

As she made her way down the crowded aisle to the exit, she glanced over her shoulder. Clint had been waylaid by Mr. and Mrs. Enright, the owners of an auction business that advertised frequently in the
Derwin Times.
He was smiling now, his features relaxed. Nadine’s step faltered as she saw him grin, then laugh. He was attractive enough when he was serious. Smiling, he became irresistible.

Nadine shook her head at her own reaction. With a forced shrug, she continued out to her car. Grandma already sat waiting, and Nadine slipped in behind the wheel.

“By the way, Nadine.” She smiled, turning guileless blue eyes to her granddaughter. “Mr. Fletcher is coming over for lunch.”

“What?”
Nadine almost dropped her car keys. “But, Grandma…”

“I know what you said,” Grandma interjected, “but he invited himself over. What could I do?” she asked innocently. “I always thought he was too smart for Sabrina. Leslie flirted outrageously with him, but I think he secretly liked you the best,” Danielle continued, undaunted by Nadine’s expression.

“He kept that secret well,” Nadine said dryly, looking away. “I sure never got that impression.”

“Maybe because you were always so snippy to
him. I’m sure he’d have spent more time with you if you’d softened a little.”

“May I remind you it was Sabrina he went out with. Clint never looked twice at me,” Nadine remarked, pulling her keys out of her purse.

“He has eyes for you, Nadine. I can tell,” Grandma persisted.

Nadine shook her head. “Grandma, I already have a boyfriend.”

“Yes, I know. I keep forgetting.” Danielle smiled at Nadine. “I’d like to meet him.”

Nadine glanced at her grandmother, but made no reply as she pulled out of the parking lot.

“What are you doing in the kitchen?” Grandma caught Nadine by the arm, frowning up at her. “You go talk to Clint.”

Nadine neatly laid out the cheese slices, quelling her irritation. “You invited him, you talk to him,” she whispered back.

But Grandma would not be swayed. “You pour Clint some coffee,” she said loudly, smiling at Nadine. “I’ll finish up in here.”

Nadine counted to ten, grabbed the pot and marched out of the kitchen. Clint sat on the edge of the couch. He smiled hesitantly up at Nadine as she filled his coffee cup. Nadine straightened, still holding the pot. She couldn’t help but smile back. Nor could she help the soft flip of her heart as their eyes met. It was just like the other morning in his office
when the atmosphere held a hint of a promise of other things to come.

“Lunch is ready,” Grandma announced from the kitchen, and once again the mood was broken. Clint picked up his cup, motioning for Nadine to precede him.

After grace was said by Grandma, it was her game. She chatted amiably with Clint, praising her granddaughter, drawing her into the conversation. Nadine felt uncomfortable and embarrassed by Grandma’s obvious matchmaking, and was positive that Clint felt the same.

But he gamely answered Grandma’s questions, and if Nadine didn’t contribute much to the conversation, he didn’t seem to mind. However, it was an awkward affair and Nadine silently promised herself that once Clint was gone, she would have it out with her dear grandma. Once and for all.

Thankfully, after dessert and more polite conversation, Clint said he had to hurry off to another appointment. Grandma didn’t hide her disappointment, and Nadine was grateful for his tact. He bid them both farewell, and as soon as Nadine closed the door behind him, she turned to face her grandma.

Danielle yawned delicately and glanced at her watch. “I’m tired, Nadine. I think I’ll lie down. Can you clean up? Thanks.” With that, Grandma walked away.

Nadine watched Danielle close the door to her bedroom. Then she turned to the kitchen full of left-overs and dirty dishes, left to wonder how she had
let Grandma finesse her way out of both the dishes and another confrontation.

And wonder why Clint had accepted the invitation.

Monday was the usual deadline chaos—phones ringing, typesetters requesting changes in articles that didn’t fit the layout

A fire came in over the police scanner and Clint ended up running out to cover it. To make room for the fire, Nadine had to scuttle her plans for her harvest article taking up the top half of the page.

“C’mon, Clint. I can’t finish the layout for that page until I get your story,” one of the typesetters groused.

Nadine walked past Clint, who sat, head bent over the keyboard of a computer he had taken over. She paused, looking over his shoulder. Clint seldom wrote articles, but since they were still short a reporter, he had offered to cover the story. She remembered all too well how disconcerted she had felt yesterday, first at church, then at her home. She was determined today to get the upper hand once more in their relationship.

“Accident has two
c
’s,” she said lightly.

“I’ll run the spell-check once I’ve finished,” he muttered.

“If you remember,” Nadine said, leaning one hip against the desk, watching him. He looked agitated, a mood she seldom saw overtake the usually selfpossessed Clint Fletcher.

“Don’t you have some pictures to paste together or cut apart, or something?” he snapped, pausing to loosen his tie, undo his cuffs and roll up his sleeves.

Nadine paused at the sight of his muscular forearms. “Now
this
is a real first,” she said, laughing to cover her reaction. “Clint Fletcher loosens his tie!”

Clint frowned at her. “You should be someplace else.”

“I have a newspaper to lay out, and I can’t until you hand in your copy.”

“Well, if you want my copy, you should be anyplace else but right here.” He continued frowning at her and, as their eyes met, Nadine felt her heart slow. She blinked, and the moment was lost She abruptly pushed herself away from his desk.

“Okay. I’ll go check on your courthouse notes for the ‘Court Docket.’” Nadine left the room, frustrated with her changing emotions.

The day rambled on. Clint got his story done. A few pieces had to be edited, a few photos resized to fit. By late afternoon the bulk of the work was done. Nadine and a typesetter would be at the paper until late evening setting it all out. Tuesday morning the staff of the
Derwin Times
would start all over again on the next edition.

“What are you doing later tonight?” Donna paused by Nadine’s office on her way home to her own family. “We’re going to rent a couple of movies, and eat greasy hamburgers and popcorn in front of the television. Want to join us?”

Nadine wrinkled her nose, considering. “We’ll be done early tonight, but I should go home. I told Grandma I would spend some time with her instead of my imaginary boyfriend.”

“And how has she taken to the idea that her granddaughter has a boyfriend?”

Nadine pulled her hands over her face. “She wants to meet Trace.”

“Oh-oh.”

“Yeah. Big oh-oh. And where am I going to haul up a boyfriend named Trace Bennet?” Nadine shook her head. “I shouldn’t have started this business, Donna.”

“No. It’s definitely a one-way path to ruin and destruction, this fake boyfriend,” Donna gibed.

“Don’t joke about that, Donna.”

“Don’t you always tell me to trust? Maybe you should do the same.”

“This is completely different. I can’t possibly pray that the Lord will miraculously send me a boyfriend to support a lie I told my dear grandmother.” She sighed. “I had hoped just the mention of it would be enough.”

“Well, go home, sleep on it. Who knows what will happen?” Donna winked at Nadine, leaving her to ponder what to do about a certain Trace Bennet and the consequences of her lie.

Clint leaned back in his chair reading the most recent edition of the
Derwin Times,
taking a moment to appreciate the new leader they were using. It was
a struggle to update the fonts, clean out a lot of the deadwood and encourage the reporters to be more creative. Some had resisted change, but others were eager to take a new direction.