by Pat Dale
He pulled her closer and kissed her. “Me, too. Sorry I teased you in the café. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know.” When she raised her face, he kissed her again. Properly. Well, not properly in the prim sense of the term, but she knew she’d definitely been well-kissed.
This time it lasted for long moments while her insides thrummed with excitement. He pulled her tight and hugged her senseless. Just when she’d turned into melted butter, he released her, trailing his lips across her face and nibbling gently at her neck. Hattie shuddered with the exquisite sensations racing through her body.
She mumbled, “Would you like to come inside for a while?”
He gazed into the unfocused heat of her eyes. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”
She closed the door, and unzipped her coat. “Thirsty?”
“Yeah. I’m thirsty, all right.” He took her coat and grabbed her hand.
“What would you like? Coffee? Tea? Or—”
“You. I’m thirsty for you, Tigger Lady.” He dropped her coat on the floor and pulled her to him. “I can’t get enough of you.”
They kissed again. Furiously this time, crushed together with a passion that drove her out of her mind. Oh glory be, I love this man! And he loves me!
He was touching her in a way she’d never been touched. In places she’d never been touched.
They broke for breath. “I always knew you could kiss like that,” Brad whispered.
“Yeah...”
He turned her so that she could lean back into him. As he pressed himself tightly against her and wrapped his long arms around her, his lips tickled her ear lobes, one and then the other. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”
“Me too,” she said with a sigh, her hazy thoughts on the possibility of what could very well happen next. ‘With you.”
“And we don’t even need any of those crazy alcoholic mints to help us along.”
Like a dash of cold water, his ill-chosen words brought back the seduction scene from the movie, and why Carol had fallen into Jerry’s bed. With a start, she pulled away. “No, we don’t. But if we had them, is that what you’d use to get me to sleep with you?”
“No! Hattie—”
“Well, I should hope not. Now, do you want me to fix us some coffee or not?”
“No, I don’t need coffee.” His eyes were dull. “I guess maybe I should head on home. I’ve got to get going early in the morning.”
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Maybe late. I don’t know how long it will take in…” Realizing he’d almost given his plan away, he shut his mouth.
“In? In where?”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
After walking hand in hand to the door, he kissed her once more, this time on her forehead. “Goodnight, Tigger.”
She stood inside the door until after he’d driven away, arms crossed over her chest. “He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me!” she called out to the empty house.
And I love him so much I can’t stand it! So much I was almost ready to...
* * *
Saturday morning dawned crisp and frosty in Leadburg. Hattie stared out her bedroom window at the last stages of autumn color in the snowy trees. A million miniature rainbows twinkled from the white dusting that covered everything.
What a beautiful day it was going to be. She bounded through the house toward the bathroom before remembering it might not be such a beautiful day after all. Brad was on his mysterious mission, and she still had questions about his weird entanglement with Sheila.
Not that it mattered that much any more. He loved her, and the store would be very busy. She could occupy herself with that until he got back. It was far too nice a day to let her silly moods spoil things.
Once in the store, she was so busy with customers it was mid-afternoon before she realized it. A brief jaunt to Neil’s for chili, and she was back at work. It was past six before she got another break. Snowy weather had been a tremendous help to sales. Hattie climbed the stairs and sank into her chair.
Where is Brad? I sure could use his help moving displays.
She smiled, realizing that wasn’t the reason she wanted him to appear. How truly wonderful it would be to be wrapped in those strong arms again.
To be hugged by him. Kissed by him. To lose herself in him.
A sudden rush of heat coursed her body. Her blush deepened as her innermost thoughts went to a place they’d never gone. Well, almost never.
What would it be like to be Brad’s wife? To spend eternity with him...
* * *
Brad made his way to Farmville City Hall where he’d arranged to meet the mayor. Sam was standing inside the door.
“Morning, Brad. Kinda nippy out today.”
“Sure is. But it’s a nice nippy. I love snowy fall mornings.”
“You got that right.”
“Sam, I need to ask you about something else. Do you happen to have a general store down here?”
“No. And we sure need one. Why?”
“I have a friend who runs the Mercantile in Leadburg. She’s having a time right now and I kind of got the idea that maybe she could move down here, too.”
“I see. She the reason you hightailed it back up there so fast last night?”
“Yep. Her name’s Hattie.”
“Does your friend Hattie have a last name?”
“Yes, sir. McCall. Hattie McCall.”
“Henrietta McCall?” Sam’s face lit up. “Oh, yeah. Hattie was our high school English teacher for a while. Redheaded gal. Real nice young lady, as I remember.”
“That’s the one. Nice but fiery, like her hair. I can verify Hattie is no pushover.”
The conversation drifted from Hattie, and Brad’s interest in her, to Piledriver Wilson’s efforts to inject himself into Leadburg’s economy. Brad was surprised when Sam made an unpleasant face and uttered an epithet.
“So you don’t approve of Wilson as a mass retailer?”
“Mass retailer? I don’t approve of the jerk as a man. If he had any guts he’d show up himself instead of sending that brown-noser in to do his dirty work for him.”
“By brown-noser, do you mean Barry Goodnow?”
Sam’s eyes widened. “You know Goodnow?”
“Oh, yes. We’ve met. But how do you know him?”
“They came here and tried to horn in on our local scene.”
“Really? When did they do that?”
“Must have been about four months ago. Didn’t do ‘em any good.” Sam gave him a malicious grin. “We voted them down and told them to get lost. We don’t need their kind of progress.”
The man’s derisive tone made Brad laugh. He wasn’t the only one who found Goodnow distasteful, apparently. “That’s pretty funny, Sam. Guess where that gang got lost to.”
“Surely, not Leadburg?”
“Yep. But our esteemed mayor rolled out the red carpet for them without so much as asking anybody what we thought.”
“So they’re going to build a store there, huh?”
“It’s beginning to look like it.”
“Doggone. I was hoping they’d go clear back to Texas.”
“Too bad they didn’t. But they’re here now and we have to deal with them.”
“You involved with those guys?”
“In a way, yes, but not in any kind of partnership. I wouldn’t call it involved, exactly, either. It’s Hattie’s land they want to buy to build on.”
“Oh?”
“And they’re targeting the old downtown store to put pressure on her. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I don’t like their tactics.”
“What kind of store did you say she has, Brad?”
“A general store. The oldest and biggest in town.”
“By golly, I think I have a solution for you. Hattie can come down here and open a store in the downtown. Give Farmville a real shot
in the arm.”
“That might work if she agrees to it. But she’d have to build and that takes time.”
“Not necessarily. There’s at least one building that’s large enough and it isn’t in use.”
“It’s worth checking out, I guess.”
“Well, I got the keys to the building I was talking about. If you think your young lady might be interested, we can go see the folks that own it later this morning.”
“Great. Your car or mine?”
“Mine, if you don’t mind. I spent too much time in one of those things,” he pointed to the Jeep, “back in the Army.”
Over the next three hours the two men inspected not one, but three buildings that could be adequate. The largest of the three was most promising, though still somewhat smaller than the Leadburg Mercantile. It would need some refurbishing, but the foundations were solid.
While they toured, they talked about the paper and its potential market. Farmville would have at least double or triple the customer base Brad presently had in Leadburg. And it would be possible to run extra editions from time to time for special events.
“What do you think, young man?” Sam asked over lunch. “Have I given you any reason to work with us down here?”
“Yes, sir. You’ve given me several reasons. But I want to be honest with you. If I do take over the Gazette, I won’t be staying with the paper in Leadburg.”
“Oh? Too much work to handle both?”
“No. Let’s just say I’m burned out up there. But I have to know how Hattie feels about coming to Farmville before I can give you a definite answer.”
“I see. So you and the little lady are a package deal?”
“I surely do hope so, Sam. That’s what I want. I just hope she does, too. Do you know how much Ed Smiley wants for the paper? That might have some bearing on whether we’re talking possibilities, or just a man’s fantasy.”
“The best way I know is to ask him. Let’s go back to my house. We can call from there.”
Chapter Twelve
By the middle of the afternoon, Brad had talked to the former editor and agreed in principle on price. It was less than he’d expected, though he’d have to scrape to come up with it. He didn’t tell Sam Young how close it would be if he were to make an offer.
Sam walked him out to the Jeep. “Thanks for everything, Sam. You’ve given me a lot to consider.”
“Think hard on it, son. We need a young man of your caliber down here. Will I hear from you soon on this?”
“Yes, sir. Very soon, unless I miss my guess.”
Sam’s eyes twinkled. “Hold on, Brad. I think it’s time we had some fun. If you have time. Ever play pool?”
“You mean like snooker?”
“Yep.”
“Not since college. Why?”
“Well, I think it’s time you had a refresher course. We have a tradition in Farmville. Most of the boys get together down at Moses’ Pool Emporium Saturday afternoon for a little recreation. If you’re thinking about becoming one of us, you’ll need to practice up.”
“Is this for sport or money?”
“Sport. Heck, if it was for money, Brad, I’d a been broke long since.” They laughed together and headed for Sam’s car.
* * *
By early evening, Brad had met most of the local business leaders and several council members. They played pool as they talked about the economy and the community, mostly in positive terms. Afterward, they picked up Sam’s wife, Edie, and went to a nice restaurant for dinner.
“I’ve had a wonderful time today, Sam. If you wanted to impress me with your city and your people, you’ve certainly succeeded. I can’t wait to tell Hattie about it.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Will we get a chance to visit with the little lady?”
“I hope so. If she’ll listen to me, you will for sure.”
“You going home tonight? If you want, we got a room at the house you’re welcome to.”
“Thanks all the same, but I’d better get on back.”
He was headed for the highway when he realized it was awfully late. Besides, it might be good to remain isolated while he thought the situation through. After a quick snack at a fast-food place, he checked into a local motel, feeling very good about things. His plan was coming together.
After taking his shoes off, he lounged on the bed for a few moments. Then he grabbed the remote and keyed the small TV to a local channel. When the screen came on, he stared at the so-called comedians as they droned on in their mind-numbing spiel. When they turned vulgar, he scrolled through the other offerings, but found nothing that remotely interested him.
He swung around to the little side desk and searched the drawers, netting only a welcome brochure and a pair of survey sheets asking for an endorsement of the motel. But there was a small Bible in the top drawer; one that, from appearances, had lingered in this room for a very long time.
Brad held it in his hands, remembering his own Book sitting on his dresser gathering dust. It hadn’t always been that way. He recalled those famous Bible drills from his youth when he and Hattie had vied for top honors. Had her Bible become as unused as his?
He dropped into the easy chair near the front window and thumbed through the Book. A few pages had been dog-eared by somebody. He flipped to the first reference and scanned the two pages. A single highlighted passage stood out, one about the man who, when he had found a wife, had found a good thing.
If he persuaded Hattie to be his wife, would that be a good thing? He certainly hoped so. He closed the Bible and got up to remove his clothes for bed.
After he was down to his shorts, he sat on the bed and grabbed the Bible again. Back in Proverbs, he found more highlighted passages. One dealt with trusting God and not trying to be self-sufficient, another with humility.
He closed his eyes. Do I trust in God? Or am I busy creating my own path? Brad winced at the possibility that his self-reliant attitude might be tripping him up.
He turned to still another dog-eared page. This one read — He that is of a proud heart stirreth up strife.
“I don’t have a proud heart,” he announced to the room. “Must be for someone else.”
He dropped the Book on the desk but it flopped open toward the middle of the New Testament. Another dog-eared page. On it, lust and pride were said to be of this world and not of God. “Okay, God, I get the message. And I don’t hold you accountable.”
He slammed the Book down and slid under the covers. But, for the life of him, he could not sleep for hours.
* * *
Hattie finally managed to say goodnight to the last store customer at half past eight. Fifteen minutes later, the store was ready to close down for the weekend. She locked the door behind the last employee and trudged back to the office to get her coat and purse.
It had been a wonderful day for the Mercantile, tiring but profitable. Thoughts of the dwindling inventory troubled her, though. She envisioned a modern store where there would be space to back-stock much more of everything.
The new store, if she built it, would have it. Energized by the thought, she hummed to herself and went out into the night air. It was beginning to snow again. She watched clouds form from her breath, reflecting tiny rainbows of light.
Then something caught her eye as she looked up the street toward the Express office. There was no light on inside, but what got her attention was the old sedan sitting beside the building. Smoke billowed out from the exhaust pipe. That was strange.
It was Sheila’s car. Curious, Hattie walked along the sidewalk toward the office in hopes Brad was there.
Just as she came alongside the car, she heard a low moan. Looking inside, she blushed at what she saw. Sheila was in the back seat of the car and a man was with her. They were...Oh my gosh!
Hattie fled, her face glowing like red-hot coals. She hadn’t seen the man’s face, but had no doubt who Sheila was entangled with. That stupid faithless jerk!
* * *
> Brad planned to get up early. Hattie would be waiting to hear from him, and what he had to tell her was very good news.
Unfortunately, he’d finally fallen into a deep sleep. The morning was already half-gone when he woke up.
Uh-oh, I’m too late for church. But I know Hattie will understand. Mom, too. It’s a beautiful day and time to share the good news.
He stopped at a fast-food shop for a breakfast sandwich and headed for Leadburg. Hattie wasn’t home when he stopped by. Momentarily crestfallen, he decided she must have gone to Sunday services with his mom. Then he remembered she’d said something about the store and the list of deficiencies she’d have to deal with on Sunday. He headed home and carried his bag inside.
Amelia, sitting in the living room, looked up in surprise. “Brad. You’re home.”
“Sorry, I missed church, Mom, but I’ve got some good news.” He went over and kissed her on the cheek.
“Really?”
“Um-hum. I have a chance to buy the Farmville Gazette.”
“Why would that be good news?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, I’ve got to go help Hattie with her store. Did she go to church with you this morning?”
“No. I haven’t heard a thing from her since Friday. And she wasn’t in church this morning, either.”
“That’s strange. Hattie’s always good for her word. She’s been awfully busy at the store, though. I’d better go down and help her. See you later, Mom.”
* * *
Hattie slept fitfully, not surprising considering the hideous nightmares. Finally, at half past nine, she’d given up on sleep and struggled out of bed. That creaky old store with its ancient layout was waiting.
Not that she really cared one way or the other any more.