Her Heart's Promise

by Carolyne Aarsen

  She shook her head as he drove away. She really needed to get past this silly attraction to him.

  He didn’t like the direction she took with her Skyline features, and she knew she needed to focus on finding out what happened to her father—not flirting with a boss who fought her on this.

  Chapter 4

  “C’mon Nadine,” Grandma called down the hall of the apartment. “We will be late for church.”

  Nadine stifled a wave of impatience with her dear grandma as she straightened the cream-colored sweater she wore over her rust wool skirt. She would have preferred to wear the jeans she had spent the better part of the morning looking for. She suspected her grandma had pulled them aside, intending to patch the deliberate rips, as she had been threatening since Nadine bought them.

  Now she was trying to get her hair, still damp from her morning shower, into an elastic. 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 grimace at the reflection of herself, feeling self-conscious with her hair down. A ponytail was far easier, but she could find no elastics in the bathroom, either. Down it would have to stay.

  “Nadine.” Grandma’s voice was sharp, and Nadine threw the brush into the drawer.

  “Coming, coming,” she muttered as she ran down the hallway, wondering why she was even letting her grandmother get to her. They both had a car; they could both drive on their own. But, Grandma was on an environmental kick and had decided they would ride together and save the polar bears.

  Grandma waited in the entrance, tapping her foot. “What took you so long?” she grumbled.

  Nadine caught her car keys from the little pegboard hanging by the door. Without deigning to reply to her grandma, she stepped into the parking lot.

  “You are certainly not in a Sunday mood today,” Grandma chided as she stepped into the vehicle. “I thought you would be much happier after going out on your date.”

  As Nadine had hoped, her grandmother was in bed when she returned last night. And this morning, Nadine had grabbed an apple before Grandma was up and retreated to her room to work to avoid any cross-questioning.

  “Sorry, Grandma,” Nadine said automatically as she backed the car out onto the street. “But after you cleaned up the other night, I couldn’t find the pants I wanted to wear.” She chose not to address the ‘date’ and hoped dear Grandma would be distracted.

  “Those pants are torn.”

  “That’s why I bought them. Even though I probably paid too much.” Now she was full-on baiting her grandmother. Somehow, Grandma had found the price tag in the garbage and had fussed about the cost of them all day. “And please don’t patch them.”

  “Okay. I won’t.” Grandma folded her hands over the small purse 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 go on ahead, Nadine. I want to talk to Mrs. Phipps.” Grandma gave Nadine a gentle push into the sanctuary. Nadine frowned at her, wondering what she was scheming now. She saw an elderly woman wave toward Barbara, and she relaxed.

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

  “Don’t worry about me,” Grandma chirped as she walked 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. She read a few of the updates. Mark and Sheryl’s wedding date was set and announced.

  Nadine had been asked to be in the wedding party and had gladly accepted. She was happy for her friend.

  While she read the rest, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grandma stopping beside the pew, glancing backward down the aisle.

  Nadine scooted over for them, turning the page of the bulletin as she did so.

  “Come sit with us,” she heard her grandmother say. Nadine glanced up to say hello to Mrs. Phipps—it wasn’t the elderly lady who stood there.

  It was Clint Fletcher.

  He had one hand on the pew in front of them, the other in the pocket of a casual blazer. Underneath he wore a white shirt and a patterned tie in shades of deep gold and russet. Again, Nadine felt her heart lift at the sight of him, and again, she grew frustrated with her reaction.

  “I was talking to young Clint,” Grandma said to Nadine, “and I told him I wanted to catch up with him. Here, Nadine. Let Mr. Fletcher sit between us.” As Grandma sat, she nudged Nadine over. Nadine silently fumed, but could do nothing without creating a scene. She moved aside so Clint could sit between them. So this was why Grandma didn’t ask about her fake boyfriend and her ‘date’—she had another victim in her sights.

  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 she couldn’t ignore. So, she thought it would be better to do as always and face him head-on, hoping he wouldn’t read anything into Grandma’s little machinations.

  “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. During the service, she couldn’t forget what he had said, and she cast sidelong glances at him. His expression was, as usual, serious. He sang along with the hymns. As he listened to the minister, Nadine recognized that firm-jaw look that came over his face when he absorbed some particularly important idea.

  His intensity surprised her. When they were dating, Clint had accompanied Leslie to church, but Nadine had never gotten the impression from him that his attendance meant anything. It was a way to keep Leslie mollified. She had challenged him once on his attendance, 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 whispered.

  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 failed 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 increasingly uncomfortable sitting beside her boss. She would 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 risked a sidelong glance at him. He looked down at her from his considerable height, and Nadine glanced away, feeling even more confused.

  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 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 was waylaid by Allen Andrews, Mark Andrews’s brother and a local real estate agent who frequently advertised in
the Sweet Creek Chronicle.

  Nadine’s step faltered as she saw him grin, then laugh. He was attractive enough when he was serious. Smiling, he became irresistible.

  With a forced shrug, Nadine 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 said he had nowhere to go when I asked. What could I do?” she asked innocently.

  “Not invite him,” Nadine groused. “I work with him, I don’t need to see him on my days off.”

  “That’s not kind. Besides, I think he was happy for the invitation. I’m thinking he’d like to see the place he visited when he was dating Leslie. And while Sabrina flirted outrageously with him, I think he secretly liked you the best,” Barbara continued, undaunted by Nadine’s expression.

  “He kept that secret well,” Nadine said dryly, looking away. “I 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 weren’t so uptight with him.”

  “May I remind you it was Leslie he was dating. Clint never looked twice at me,” Nadine remarked.

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

  “Grandma, I already have a boyfriend.”

  “Yes, I know. I keep forgetting.” Barbara smiled at Nadine. “Someday, I’d like to meet him. For now, young Clint will be joining us for lunch.”

  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 at her. “You go talk to Clint,” she whispered.

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

  Grandma would not be swayed. “I think Clint would like 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 couch looking remarkably comfortable. He smiled up at Nadine as she filled his cup. Nadine straightened, still holding the pot. The smile surprised her. It was like he didn’t mind being here.

  To her surprise, she felt her own lips curving in a return smile. And her heart gently flipped as their eyes met. Held. The atmosphere felt like the other morning in his office, which hinted at a promise of other things to come.

  “So, this place looks nice,” Clint said. “You’ve made some changes since I saw it last.”

  “I’ve tried to make it homey.” She glanced around the room, remembering too well what it looked like when her mother’s hospital bed occupied most of the space. The steady hum of the oxygen concentrator had invaded the peace of the place.

  After her mother died and the grief had settled to an easy throb, Nadine had done a complete makeover, painting the walls and purchasing new decor items—a fresh start and a way of easing away the sad memories.

  “I think you succeeded.” Still holding his coffee cup, he walked to the fake fireplace. Sabrina’s and Leslie’s wedding pictures were displayed on the mantel, as was the most recent picture of Sabrina’s daughter.

  “Your sisters look happy.”

  “They are.”

  Wow, she was really hitting it out of the park with the scintillating conversation.

  He picked up Leslie’s picture, and as he looked at it, Nadine caught a glimpse of sorrow cross his face. Nadine swallowed her reaction to him thinking of herself compared to her still-stunning sister. Still? Still, the fact that Leslie had caught his fancy could bother her? How foolish was she?

  “She’s as beautiful as she ever was,” Nadine said, feeling a need to control the direction of the conversation. If she said it first, it wouldn’t hurt as much as if Clint did.

  “She is that,” Clint said, a note of melancholy in his voice. “Is she happy?”

  “Her husband is really good to her.”

  “I’m glad. She is...a sweet person.” He replaced the picture carefully, as if reluctant to let go.

  Well, there it was. He still missed Leslie. Which made her wonder again why Clint had broken up with her. Nadine had never discovered the reason from Leslie, because she never wanted to talk about it. She kept saying she just wanted to put it all behind her. She had been so adamant about it, Nadine never pursued it further.

  “Lunch is ready,” Grandma announced from the kitchen, and thankfully, the mood was broken. Clint finished his coffee then motioned for Nadine to precede him.

  They sat down at the table where, no surprise here, Grandma had taken away the chairs on one side, so Nadine was forced to sit beside Clint. Nadine felt trapped, dreading the next hour, wondering what her grandmother was thinking when she invited Clint over.

  “So, are you settling back into Sweet Creek, Clint?” her grandmother asked him as she handed him the tray with buns.

  “I am. Sometimes it feels like I’ve never been gone.”

  “Yes. Not much changes around here, does it Nadine?” Grandma nudged Nadine’s foot to encourage her to participate.

  You invited him, you keep him busy, Nadine thought, not looking up. She kept her head down, focusing on getting exactly the correct amount of butter on her buns and meticulously arranging the cheese and meat so they didn’t stick too far off the bun. Important work. Distracting work.

  “And I heard your Uncle Dory will be coming home soon from his overseas trip?” Grandma continued.

  Clint nodded, wiping his mouth with the napkin. “Yes. In a couple of weeks.”

  “I’m sure he’ll have lots to talk about.”

  This gained Nadine another foot nudge, which she also ignored.

  “And now that you’re living in his house, where will he be living?”

  “He’s bought one of those condos that just went up a year ago.”

  “Nice for him. I understand you also went overseas after you graduated,” Grandma put in, gamely carrying the conversation.

  Nadine knew she was being obstinate but wasn’t sure how else to let her grandmother know her behavior today was unacceptable in so many ways.

  “I did,” was all Clint said. “My parents insisted that I go after graduation. I...I wasn’t keen on the idea, but in retrospect, it was the right thing to do.”

  His blasé comments made her uneasy. The right thing to do? After breaking her sister’s heart?

  Nadine was in college at the time, but that summer, she came home whenever she could. She remembered how restrained Leslie was. How she looked thinner. How quiet she was about the whole breakup.

  Finally, in September, her sister pulled herself together and moved to Calgary to start over.

  And now Clint was so casually stating that it seemed the right thing to do?

  “Was the trip the reason you broke up with Leslie?” The question jumped out before she could stop herself.

  The regretful way he looked at Leslie’s picture bothered her. And now he acted like breaking her sister’s heart was no big deal. The way Leslie was talking before Clint broke up with her, marriage was in the cards. Now he was passing it off like it was some silly high school crush.

  He didn’t look her way; instead, he carefully pushed his salad around the plate. He shook his head. “We were pretty young at the time.”

  “It still hurt Leslie quite a bit,” Nadine returned, unable to deny his comment.

  At that, Clint turned to her, a frown creasing his forehead. “Sounds like you’re still upset about that.”

  Nadine held his gaze, trying to figure out what he meant by that comment. “No one likes to see their sister’s heart broken.”

  “Did she talk much about it? Our breakup?”

  Nadine cou
ldn’t believe his nerve. “Why do you want to know?”

  Clint held her gaze a moment, as if trying to delve into her soul. “I just thought she might have said something to you. After all...” he shook his head.

  “She only told me that you broke up with her, and that she didn’t want to talk about it. She was adamant about that.”

  Clint nodded slowly, then turned back to his lunch. It was a stilted affair after Nadine’s comment. Grandma gamely tried to forge on, but Nadine could see that Clint was only being polite, until he could politely leave. After another few agonizing minutes, he made a show of glancing at his watch, the universal sign for “I’m out of here.”

  “I’m sorry, but I should go.” He wiped his mouth, gave Grandma a polite smile, then got up. “Thanks for lunch,” he said. “I appreciate the invitation.”

  He didn’t look at Nadine, and as he walked away, Grandma shot her an angry look.

  Nadine didn’t care.

  However, the manners her mother had drilled into her and her sisters took precedence over her own awkwardness. She got up and walked Clint to the entrance.

  “Thanks for coming,” was all she said as he went to open the door, realizing how empty the polite words sounded, even to her.

  He held the knob a moment, and then shot a look over his shoulder, holding her gaze.

  Was that regret in his eyes? Sorrow?

  The emotions were so fleeting, she was sure she had imagined them.

  “Yeah. Tell your grandmother thanks again.”

  He opened the door and left.

  As the door closed behind him, a mixture of emotions coursed through her. Had she pushed too hard? Did it really matter what he did to Leslie all those years ago? She was happy now, as she had told Clint.

  Or was there a deeper reason behind her frustration?

  “You could have been nicer to him.”

  Her grandmother’s reproachful voice behind her made Nadine turn around.

  “I was just telling him the truth.”

  Barbara’s shoulders lifted in a heavy sigh. “And now he’s gone. Seriously, Nadine. I try, I really do.”