Henrietta's Heart

by Pat Dale

  She glared. “Well, that’s another in a long list of things you don’t know, Brad.”

  “I’m sorry.” He winced at her sharp words. “Guess I should learn to mind my own business. Anyway, it’s nice to see you. And thanks for confirming your ad.”

  Her expression was anything but warm and friendly when she replied, “Yeah, whatever. Well, did you and your cronies have a good meeting in there?”

  “My cronies? What do you mean?”

  “Don’t try to fool me. I saw you and Manley in there with those goons. All those other so-called civic leaders, too. And to think you almost made me believe you wanted to help me decide what’s best for our town.”

  “Hattie...”

  She shot out the door and ran to her car. By the time Brad was outside, she’d lurched onto the highway in front of a van whose brakes squealed with their effort to avoid a collision.

  Manley nodded toward the road. “Did I miss somethin’?”

  “Nope.” Brad scowled. “Just another local proving that we need to give them more driver training before turning them loose on the unsuspecting public."

  He trotted quickly to his Jeep. He wanted to ask Hattie what was stuck in her craw, but he knew her well enough to know it would be hours before she settled down. Better to let her get it out of her system first. He allowed a nostalgic grin. Her Hattitude!

  Hattie was waiting when Brad parked at the Express. One foot was on the ground, the other still in the Jeep when she charged up to him. “I want you to explain one thing, Brad Trimble! Just how long have you been in bed with those rats?”

  “What rats? At least make sense if you’re going to embarrass me in public.”

  “The rats you just had lunch with. Looked to me like a meeting of the town council with those goons.”

  “Those goons, as you call them, are spokesmen for Wilbur Wilson.”

  “I know very well who they are! I had a visit from our honorable mayor this morning. When I came over to tell you what I think they’re up to, you were already with them. So, I guess I don’t really need to tell you anything, do I?”

  “Chuck Manley talked to you this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, why weren’t you there with the rest of us?”

  “That’s something you’ll have to ask your friend the mayor. But I think I can give you a hint. How many women were at the meeting?”

  “None. But wha...” Brad stopped when he realized where she was going with this. “I don’t think it has anything to do with you being a female.”

  “Hah! You men are all alike. Why not say, ‘I don’t think’? That should cover it.”

  His eyes flared in anger. “Look, lady, I might agree with your assumption, except for one thing. There’s only one woman who manages any kind of business in Leadburg, and I’m looking at her. What other women do you think they should have invited?”

  She swallowed the incendiary words that were poised to pin him to the wall. He was right. She was the only woman business owner in town.

  Hattie reconsidered her position as her gaze locked with his. “I guess you could be right. I am the only one. But why didn’t the mayor ask me to come up and meet those guys when he talked to me?”

  “I don’t know, but you can bet I’m going to ask him the next time I see him. You should have been with us for this.”

  Her face had flushed bright red. Brad remembered the girl from years ago. His girl. The most vivid recollection was with her face afire, just like now. And those bright blue eyes dancing with energy.

  She said, “Well, I wasn’t. Are you going to tell me about it?”

  “Sure. I’ll tell you. But what did Manley want with you today?”

  “Oh, he just came by to tell me Wilson has fallen in love with my property and wants to purchase it.”

  “Down here on the square?”

  “No, goofball. I thought you were smart. My property on the heights, where I’m going to build my new store.”

  “New store? Then you are going through with it?”

  “I was. This may change things.”

  “Can you tell me exactly what Chuck said?”

  “Sure. They’re prepared to offer me much more than the lot is worth. I’ll be rich, to hear him tell it.”

  “I see. And then he came to invite me to a meeting of civic leaders to have a lot of hot air blown up our kilts. I don’t think I’d trust any of them any further than I could throw them.”

  “The two of us agree on that score.”

  “Come on inside. Let’s sit down and talk it out. You’ll no doubt be getting a lot of pressure to sell now.”

  “No kidding!”

  Sheila glanced at Brad, then at Hattie, but said nothing as they stomped through. After closing the office door, he offered Hattie a chair and sat behind his huge desk.

  “What made you decide to go ahead and build?”

  “Dad’s dream. He was sure it would be good for the town. He’d never have spent the money for that land without researching it thoroughly. Whatever else I am, I am a McCall. The last of the McCalls, you could say.”

  “Not necessarily the last.”

  “Oh, yes, I am the last. I’m the only living McCall, and I’ve decided that romance is out for me. Too many unknowns.”

  “By unknowns, do you mean too many hurts?”

  “That too. No more reckless chances for this little girl.”

  “On that subject we agree. Love bites.”

  “I didn’t realize you talked that way, Brad.”

  “I usually don’t.”

  She remembered the classmate he’d made such a fuss over after she refused to go to the senior prom with him. “What about that girl in school? The way you fussed over her, I thought you two were a match made in heaven.”

  “You mean Julie Evans?”

  “I guess that was her name. How do you two get along?”

  “We don’t. I haven’t seen Julie since a month after high school graduation. We never were really serious.”

  “You could have fooled me. Half the school, too.” Not wanting the conversation to veer the way it was, she changed the subject. “I told Manley I’d give them my answer on Friday.”

  “Three days? That’s not very long to figure out what game they’re playing.”

  “No, it’s not. But I’m tired of losing sleep over all of this. I really do want to do the right thing, though it may not matter much if Wilson’s coming to town. Mostly, I just want it to be over.”

  Brad’s mind refused to leave the subject of romance, though he was glad to be past the reminder of the mistake he’d once made. The huge mistake. Her sapphire eyes were dull. Surely the vibrant little fireball had more fight in her? But, even if she did, it obviously wouldn’t be wasted on him.

  “From the looks of it, I’d say you’ll get your wish. This could be the week things’ ll pop.”

  The door opened and Sheila stuck her head inside. “Sorry to interrupt y’all, Brad, but Joel wants to know if you’re goin’ to need him to stay ‘round.”

  “What?” He turned to Sheila. “Oh, yeah. I guess so. I still have to write my editorial so he can set it up.”

  He swung back to Hattie. “Do you mind if we talk again later? I hate to be rude, but I need Joel to help me or else we’ll be late with this week’s edition.”

  “No problem. You know where I’ll be. For a few days.”

  “Hey, Tigger, don’t wimp out. We’re not done yet.”

  It was the first time in years he’d used that nickname from her unsuccessful attempt to be a cheerleader. Because of her height, she’d instead become the Leadburg Tigers’ first, and last, mascot. She’d worn the tiger costume her mom made proudly, even after Brad labeled her as the famous Pooh cartoon character. She gave him a flicker of a smile and headed for the door.

  Sheila watched her leave. “Anything hap’nin’ I should know about, Brad?”

  “Nope. Hattie’s trying to make a business decision. I was he
lping her sort it out.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ll go on and tell Joel to stay.”

  “Why don’t you ask him to take a break for an hour? That should give me time to write something up.”

  After Sheila shut the door, he returned to his chair. The look on Hattie’s face haunted him. It was clear she was about to give up, which meant she’d probably move away. Whatever else he might want, it wasn’t that. Besides, he’d given his word to Harry. Somehow, he had to win her over, difficult as that might be. He turned his attention to the blank pad and began to write.

  * * *

  Henrietta left the Express in total confusion. She’d been so sure Brad was in cahoots with Manley and itching to verbally tear him to shreds. His ability to convince her otherwise left no target for her pent-up wrath.

  The frustration was overwhelming as she drove back to the Mercantile and parked. Glancing up at the old building, for the first time ever, the irregular rows of missing bricks claimed her attention. Although it wasn’t a structural factor, their absence did signify the building needed attention.

  Funny how things can change so quickly. This morning I was prepared to get a full evaluation of the building and now I see how utterly irrelevant that would be.

  Instead of going inside, she remained in the car considering her options. If she sold the land to Wilson, he’d be a force she couldn’t compete with. On the other hand, if she held on to the land, there was the dilemma of spending a small fortune to refurbish this relic, or to build new. In either case, Wilson would build nearby and eventually put her out of business.

  In itself, that should have been enough to keep her in a tizzy. But her mind was drawn back to Brad. His burned in her memory—eyes that said more than his lips ever revealed.

  Usually unfathomable, there’d been such clarity in those hazel windows to his soul. He was interested in her problem for sure, but it was more than that.

  Does he still have feelings for me? What about the kiss?

  She’d been shaken by his confession the girl who’d replaced her years ago wasn’t a serious relationship. All these years she’d assumed Brad found in Julie whatever it was Henrietta had lacked. Maybe he really was still interested in her. Maybe that was why...

  Come on, girl. Snap out of it. You have a job to do. You can’t be thinking about romance. You need to be in control of your life. Especially now. And what a person wants, what any person wants, is to be in control.

  Control? What a laugh!

  She focused on the Mercantile again. Any fool could see she was certainly in control here. Gerald and Shirley would be totally lost without her expert guidance. And she’d really shown cheesy Chuck who was in charge.

  Her thoughts turned to her forsaken career in education. No wonder she’d become a teacher. The classroom was a perfect place for a control freak. There, at least, she was mistress of her own destiny. Maybe that was where she truly belonged.

  Harry, on the other hand, always seemed like the captain of a large ship the way he ran his store.

  His store.

  Maybe that was it. It was still Harry’s store, and perhaps always would be. It would never truly be hers.

  In that case, she should take advantage of the opportunity and get clear of the whole mess, Brad included.

  Chapter Four

  For the past hour, Brad worked feverishly on his editorial. The result was a six-hundred-word masterpiece of meaningless equivocation. If it wasn’t for the deadline, he would have rewritten and honed the mini-epistle to perfection. As it was, Joel came back from break over an hour ago. It was time to set type and roll out all but the final insert.

  Sheila and Joel worked silently beside him until the presses were ready to roll. Luckily, this part of the effort was more or less mechanical. His thoughts were distracted by the memory of a pair of sapphire eyes and a familiar face.

  “Well, Joel, we’re all set. I really appreciate your staying to help me with this.”

  The young man smiled wearily. “Do you want me to help with the press run, too?”

  “No, no. You’ve done more than enough for one day. I can handle the rest. If you’re going to be back by five in the morning, you’d better get some rest. I’ll have it all ready so you can do the final run when you get here tomorrow.”

  “Well, if you’re sure you can get along okay, I think I’ll head for home. I’m kind of tired. See you in the morning, Brad. Sheila.” He grabbed his coat and went out the back door.

  “I’m goin’ to stay and help you, Brad. There’s too much for one person. I don’t want any argument about it.”

  “I can handle it. You’ve got to be tired. Go on home.”

  “To what? An empty little ol’ apartment and some dumb TV? No thank you. I’m not that tired.”

  “You must be hungry at least.”

  “Now you mention it, I am hungry. I bet you are, too.”

  “I suppose. I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “Why don’t I run out and grab us somethin’?”

  “That would be nice. While you’re gone I’ll start the run.” He handed her a twenty. “This’ll be my treat.”

  After wolfing down burgers and fries, the two worked the obsolete presses for over three hours. When he threw the master switch to the off position, the nerve rending whine slowly died away, leaving an eerie silence in its place. He turned to Sheila, who was stretching her arms and yawning.

  “Now, you’d better go home and get some rest. I’ll put everything to bed.”

  “I got to admit I won’t need any little ol’ sleepin’ pills tonight. But this sure has been fun.”

  “That’s right. You usually miss out on this part of the operation.” He stifled a yawn. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You’ve been a great help.”

  “I really like helpin’ you, Brad. Any way I can.”

  There was an unusual gleam in her eyes as she came around the desk. “You must be awfully stiff by now. Sit you down here, and I’ll just rub your shoulders for you.”

  He spun his chair backward and dropped into it while she positioned herself behind him and began to massage his neck, shoulders, and upper back. Her strong and supple fingers soon had him grunting in pleasure as his muscles relaxed.

  * * *

  Returning to the store, Hattie found a small stack of papers requiring her signature. So, I am of some use after all. She set about working her way through the stack. After that, she thumbed through one of the merchandising catalogs scattered on the cluttered desk.

  Long after Gerald said goodnight and shepherded the staff out, she remained in her office. The possibility of using Wilson’s money to refurbish the place was tempting. She could give the megabuck skinflint a run for his money. Her options seemed limited to that, or escaping back to the world of education.

  The nightlights had long since come on when she traipsed through the empty aisles of the store, remembering days past. Her father delighted her as a little girl when he’d bring her into the store after it was closed and let her pick a favorite candy from the sweets counter.

  She moaned, “Oh Daddy, why can’t you be here now? You’d know what to do with this Wilson person.”

  The sound of her voice echoing through the cavernous store raised goose bumps on her arms. Suddenly ill at ease in the ancient building, she beat a path to the front door.

  After making sure it was securely locked, Hattie climbed into her car and sighed with relief. It was foolish to get spooked by her own voice in her own store. Just the same, it was good to get out into the fresh night air.

  A glance at the dash clock after she keyed the ignition confirmed the time. Nine-forty-seven. Gurgles from her mid-section confirmed something else. She’d managed to miss an evening meal again, two nights in a row. If she kept it up, she’d soon be back under a hundred pounds.

  The Burger Palace wouldn’t be open yet, so she put the Caliber in gear. As she passed the Express, she noticed the lights were still on. Two vehicles sat in front; Brad’s Jee
p and an old sedan.

  She pulled up across the street and started toward the office. He was working late and might like to have a late snack, too. She could see him inside, seated at his desk. Sheila had her arms draped around him from behind, her ample bosom pressed against the man’s back. The transcendent expression on the woman’s face spoke volumes when she leaned closer.

  Henrietta watched with a tug in her heart as the woman lowered her head until her lips were just touching Brad’s ear. What was she doing?

  What is he doing?

  She wanted to rush inside and scream at him. Wanted to, but couldn’t. He’d said he wasn’t interested in romance and she’d been dumb enough to believe him.

  Evidently, he had all the romance he could handle right there at the newspaper. Well, that was okay with her. So much for a future with Brad Trimble.

  Okay, kid. Time to get on with your life. Your so-called life. It was time for decisions, not to become embroiled in any more romantic nonsense.

  She retreated quietly to her car and headed home.

  * * *

  Brad was practically asleep with his eyes open as Sheila massaged his aching muscles. Something else impinged on his thoughts. She’d moved so he was leaning into the chair, leaving his back free.

  She turned her digital dexterity to his head and neck, her warm body so close to his. She pressed into him, twin points of heat pushing into his upper back. When her lips softly caressed his ear, he came fully alert.

  “I think we’d better be getting on home, Sheila.”

  She cooed softly, “I agree. Would you like to come by my place? I can fix you a nice little ol’ snack. Or somethin’.”

  He stretched his arms wide and got up from the chair. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. We’re both pretty tired. Besides, Mom will be waiting up for me.”

  “Your momma waits up for you? For cryin’ out loud, Brad, how old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight. I know it seems silly, but you’d have to know Mom to understand. I’m all she has to live for.”