by Pat Dale
His enigmatic mask returned when she focused on him.
“How I really feel? How should I feel?”
“I don’t really care how you should feel, Brad. I want to—no, I need to know what you really think.”
He stared at her across the desk, wondering whether to level with her. “Why should what I think make any difference to you?”
“It frankly doesn’t, but you’re the editor of the paper. If you’re going to oppose me publicly should I decide to rebuild, I want to be ready.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Well, that’s a relief. But I still want to know.”
“What I really think?”
“What you really think. Yes.” His hesitance irritated her in a big way. “Tell me now, please?”
“I’d say you’re between a rock and a hard place. If you stay downtown, Wilson will build and eat your lunch within a year. If you move, he’ll find another site. Second verse, same as the first.”
She released her held breath audibly. “That’s what I think, too. I have no way out of this mess.”
“I didn’t say that. There’s a way out. Maybe more, but at least one I can think of.”
“What’s that?”
“Take the skinflint to the cleaners when you sell your land and use the money to buy yourself a decent future.”
“I could do that, I guess, but I haven’t a clue what it would be. Maybe teaching English again.”
“You’d probably have to move away to do that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want you to move. I think you should stay here in Leadburg, where you belong.”
“Where I belong? What a laugh. Who cares about me here?”
“I do.”
“You do? Why?”
“I just do. Trust me.”
Her eyes flamed at the word. “Trust? Is that the word I just heard coming from Brad Trimble’s mouth?”
“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”
She made a sound like laughter, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, I was remembering the sign Dad always had in the store. Remember it? In God we trust. All others pay cash.”
He chuckled. “I remember. I always thought it was really funny.”
“Yeah. Really funny. So why am I not laughing now?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“You don’t have a clue about lots of things.” She spun around, almost knocking Sheila down when they nearly collided at the door. “Oh hi, Sheila. I just love your beautiful pink sweater. They’re really a knockout.”
“Well thanks, Hattie. I bought it at your store. Glad you like it.”
Hattie retreated to the front door, calling over her shoulder, “And I’m sure I’m not the only one around here who appreciates them, Sheila.”
Sheila turned to Brad, whose mouth was hanging open. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
His eyes fastened on her bosom for a moment before he turned away. Yep, Hattie’s jealous. This is going to work!
If he could keep things under control and not blow it this time.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon was busy. It wasn’t easy to erase Brad from her thoughts but she made a maximum effort to do so. There could be no doubt the threat to the Mercantile was serious and she’d have to do something. Soon.
She might not be a ‘born to it’ retailer but she was bright enough to recognize both the danger and opportunity confronting her. After telling Gerald she needed to be left alone for the afternoon, she closed her office door and went to work.
First, she made calls to commercial contractors in the St. Louis area, asking for estimates on what it would cost to build a hundred-eighty-thousand square foot retail space. The first two seemed outlandish, but a third call netted a reasonable estimate.
Hattie checked off the first line. Next on the list were fixtures. While those in this old store had a rustic appeal, a new store would require the most modern, efficient fixtures available.
Then she rummaged through the ancient file cabinet for a catalog. When she finally got to the bottom drawer, the one she’d thought Dad never used, there was an expanding file folder with a single word written across it — PROJECT.
In slow motion, she pulled out the heavy file and laid it on her desk. The breath trapped in her lungs made her chest feel like it was going to explode. Why hadn’t she gone through all these old drawers before? What was this?
The first page was typed and explained the nature of the project; to wit, preliminary data for the new store. Everything else was in longhand. There were bids from half a dozen contractors, including the three she’d just called. They must think I’m crazy. Or stupid.
When she scanned each page, she realized Harry already made his decision and fully planned to rebuild on the heights. Each detail was covered, complete with prices that were still good to the last day of October. He must have been ready to go forward when his health suddenly failed. There were even contracts waiting for his signature.
She closed the file and settled into the seat he’d filled for so many years. “Oh, Daddy, you had what I needed. I was just too dense to find it, and now it may be too late.”
Tears of frustration trailed down her cheeks. Nearly two months had elapsed since the date on the papers. The builders could already have been at work. She wondered what Wilson’s men would have done in that case. Would they move on to another town and leave Leadburg alone?
Does Brad know about the file? Did that rat hold this information back from me? She grabbed her purse and headed for the stairs, but hesitated. Gerald was on his way up.
“Miss Henrietta? I was just coming to talk to you.”
“Do you want to come on up? I was just leaving, but where I was going can wait.”
“Okay. I really need to ask you about something important.”
“What is it?”
“Begging your pardon, ma’am, and please tell me if I’m butting in where I don’t belong, but there’re rumors around town you’re going to sell us out.”
“Sell us out? I don’t understand.”
“Well, the word is, that big tycoon Wilson, I think that’s his name, is going to pay you to shut us down when he builds one of his big stores here in Leadburg.”
Hattie grimaced. Bad news traveled fast, especially when it wasn’t news yet. Who was blabbing his mouth off prematurely?
“Gerald, I hope you believe me when I explain. Wilson’s people have contacted me and they do want to build in Leadburg. But I haven’t agreed to anything yet. And I mean anything.”
He nodded slowly, his expression still puzzled.
“Please believe me, if I accept their offer and that’s a big if, it’ll only be with solid assurance all of you guys will be accommodated. All of you. I was going to tell you and Shirley if I decided to take them up on their deal. I should have gone ahead and let you in on it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, ma’am. I figured there must be a lot more to it than what’s being talked about.”
“You’re right there. It’s complicated and I’m not sure I’ll cooperate with them anyway. One thing, though. If I don’t go along with them, we’ll have a real struggle on our hands. Wilson’s determined to build somewhere around here, and when he does, he’ll probably put us out of business.”
“That’s too bad. The Mercantile has been here a good long time. Be a shame to see it go under.”
“A real shame. But you and the others are important to me. I won’t do anything that doesn’t give you a promise of security. You have my word on that.”
“Your word’s good enough for me, Miss Henrietta. You and Harry come from the same cloth. Good cloth, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Not at all. I take it as a real compliment. And thank you for coming and talking to me about this.”
“It’s actually a relief to get it off my chest, ma’am.”
“I wonder if you’d do
me a favor. The others have no doubt heard the same rumors. Would you mind sharing what I just told you with them?”
“Be glad to.”
“Good. Thanks, Gerald. Now I have to go up on the heights and make a decision, one that will affect all of us. Say a prayer that I don’t goof up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She watched him go down the steps, then grabbed her purse and the folder and followed him. She glanced back from the outer door to see him talking to Shirley and two of the others. They were smiling.
Time to see what Brad has to say for himself. Before she got to the Caliber, a woman called out to her. “Hattie McCall? My gosh, I haven’t seen you for ages.”
Hattie turned to see a woman with two small children smiling at her. “Marybeth Allen? For heaven’s sake. It’s been a long time.” She looked down at the kids. “I see you’ve been busy.”
Marybeth grinned. “You could say that, but I go by Beth now and my name isn’t Allen. I married Danny Brown. Remember, from the class that graduated ahead of us?”
Hattie had to think. It had been so long since she’d had anything to do with any of her former classmates, their names were fuzzy in her memory. Then she recalled Danny, a shy but bright young man. “Yes, now that I think about it, I do. So you two are married. That’s wonderful.”
Beth said, “I’m sorry about your dad’s passing.”
“Thanks. It was pretty sudden. I had no idea he was in that bad a shape.”
“Yeah. Danny’s mom died last year. It can be a shock.”
“It sure can.” She scrambled to find something more pleasant to talk about. “So, you’ve stayed in Leadburg? I see a familiar face in the store from time to time, but it seems most of our gang has gone off to bigger and better things.”
“Bigger maybe, but I like it here. So does Danny.” Beth’s eyes widened. “Oh, Hattie, I have the coolest idea. Remember Susan Ellis?”
“Yes.”
“She’s married, too, but nobody from here. She moved to St. Louis and married a guy named Steve Otto. They have a little girl.”
“Wow. Sounds like everyone’s having children already.”
“Not everyone. Not yet. Teresa Williams married Bill Trent from DeSoto. She’s expecting her first in a few months.”
Memories of the old foursome filled Hattie’s mind. Back in school, they’d stuck together through thick and thin. No secrets from each other. Well, very few. And they’d all agreed it would be a long time before any of them got married, much less had kids. That was the last thing they’d wanted. Or said they wanted. Now, it seemed Hattie was the only one who hadn’t changed her mind.
“I’m surprised you guys are all mothers, or nearly so. Remember what we said back then?”
Beth nodded. “Yeah. But things change, Hattie.”
“You can say that again.”
“Look, that idea I had? Susan and Teresa would both be thrilled to see you again. What do you say to our getting together, the four of us? Just like old times.”
“Not exactly like old times, would you say?”
“No, I guess not. But we could get babysitters so it would be just the four of us for a couple of hours.”
“That sounds great. Let me know, Beth. I’d love to see all you guys again.”
“I’ll give you a call, Hattie. Or talk to you when I come to the store. With these two and Danny to feed, I’m in town pretty often.”
“I can imagine.” She hugged Beth and waited while she led her kids into the store. Then she jumped into the Caliber and headed for a showdown with Brad.
* * *
Hattie stuck her head in the door of the Express. “Hello, Sheila. I need to talk to Brad.”
The blonde looked up from her desk and smiled. “Oh, hi there. He’s not here. I swear, Hattie, you have the doggonedest luck with Brad.”
You can say that again. She gritted her teeth and said nothing, but gave Sheila an icy smile while listening to the woman ramble on.
“He insisted on takin’ the papers to the post office. I was goin’ to do it like I almost always do but he said he needed to get out of here and do some serious thinkin’.”
Hattie had an idea why he’d escaped Sheila’s proximity, but it wouldn’t be nice to express it. “I wonder where he went. You don’t think he’s still at the post office do you? This is really important.”
“I don’t know. He just up and loaded it all in that ol’ Jeep of his and took off up the street. You know how he is.”
Is that a hint of challenge in those big brown cow’s eyes? Hattie’s gaze shifted to the woman’s incredible bosom and back to her face. And to think she’d always thought cows’ eyes were beautiful.
“You want me to leave a note for him?”
“No. Thanks anyway, Sheila. It’ll have to wait. Bye.”
She closed the door and started for her car. Where would Brad go to think? And what was he thinking about? Sheila the cow, maybe? That thought stuck in her craw. Surely Brad couldn’t be serious about the woman. Could he?
Hattie remembered the rumors that floated around town years ago. Sheila went to work at the paper office right out of school. The word was, she was getting it on hot and heavy with Bob Rollins, editor and owner of the Express. The only problem with was the annoying fact Bob was already married.
Then came the tragic car crash that killed both Bob and his wife. Sheila and Joel carried on with the paper until Brad came back to town and took over. And the blonde woman never had a serious affair of the heart with anyone to the best of Hattie’s knowledge. Until now.
The recent scene of the woman hovering over Brad, pressing her body into him and kissing his ear, replayed itself. There could no longer be any doubt where the woman’s heart was. Maybe Brad was interested in Sheila after all.
Hattie glanced into the mirror, her face wrinkled into an ugly frown. Oh, no, that can’t be me. This business is going to turn me into an old woman. I’ve got to find some way out of this.
Chapter Six
Brad’s Jeep was sitting on the lot at the furthest point from the road when Hattie pulled off the highway. She rolled slowly across the acreage and stopped beside it.
He was sitting on his front bumper. “Hey, Tigger. We meet again at the top.”
“Very funny.” She was in no mood for levity, but couldn’t help smiling. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find you up here.”
“Nope. I come up here when I want to think clearly.”
She glanced at the foliage, already turning brighter since Monday. “I can see why. The colors are more gorgeous than ever.”
“What brings you up here today, Hattie?”
“Sheila said you’d gone off somewhere and I had a hunch this is where you’d be. I need to ask you something about this file.” She held the folder out so he could see it.
“What’s that?”
“This was in Dad‘s bottom drawer. It looks like he’d already planned everything for rebuilding the store up here.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Her eyes locked on his. “Down to the last detail. He was ready to go forward with it.”
She got out of the car and stood, facing him squarely. “Did you know anything about this?”
“I didn’t know he had a file.”
“But you knew he fully intended to rebuild, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I knew that.” Brad tried to smile. He’d known this moment was inevitable but regretted it was here already. He should have leveled with her, but it had been so much fun watching her fume. Now he was in for it.
“For crying out loud, Brad! Why didn’t you tell me instead of giving me that stupid song and dance about deserting downtown? Why?”
“Easy, girl. Now, just stay cool.”
She glared at him, hands on hips and eyes flashing. She knew he loved it when she was angry, but even more when her anger wasn’t directed at him. Well, this time it was and she wasn’t holding back.
“I don’t know, Hen
rietta. Maybe it was because I get so tongue-tied every time I try to talk to you.”
“I’d appreciate it right now if you’d untie your tongue long enough to tell me what else you know concerning Dad’s plans.”
“Actually I don’t know that much.”
He looked down at the file and the single Project word on it. He remembered. Oh yeah, he remembered all right.
“That’s it!”
“That was what?”
“What he meant.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The last word he tried to say when they chased me out of his hospital room. He said, ‘Tell Hattie,’ then tried to say one more word but started choking and couldn’t finish.”
“You were there when Dad—when he...”
“Yes. He’d been trying to talk to me.”
She gazed into his guarded eyes, finally grasping the full meaning of what he was telling her. “You and Dad really were very close, weren’t you?”
“Very close.” Something changed in his eyes at that moment, his expression suddenly clear. “Harry was something of a father-figure to me during the past few years. The only real father I ev...” He choked off what he’d been about to say.
Hattie didn’t want to hear this. Harry was the only real father she had, too, but she had stayed away, for years. She’d let him down, big-time. “Your father left you guys when you were a baby, didn’t he?”
“Yes. John Trimble apparently couldn’t face the prospect of a baby taking attention away from him. At least, that’s what Mom always said.
“So, my dad took you under his wing.” She paused to think. “Then he must have told you what he was doing.”
“Most of it, I guess. But he didn’t tell me anything about the timing.”
“Maybe this will help.” She handed him the folder. “I found it in his office. It certainly clears things up.”
Relieved that she seemed to have gotten over her mad, he opened the folder and glanced through the contents. His eyes widened. “Clears things up, I guess. Hattie, this changes everything.”