“You don’t need to try, Grandma. I’m fine on my own.”
This netted her a puzzled look. “But I thought you went on a date with that Trace fellow. Didn’t it turn out?”
For a moment, she was ready to tell her everything: that Trace wasn’t real, that she was just trying to keep Barbara off her back. It was too much work to remember everything.
“Well, you’ll just have to be nicer to Clint if I invite him over again,” Grandma said. “But before I try that again, I was thinking of having Conrad come—the fellow who works for Mark Andrews.”
Nadine wanted to scream. This was really the limit.
“I had a lovely time last night,” she told her grandmother, reminding herself that if she didn’t push back, Barbara was going to drive her around the bend. “Trace and I will be seeing each other again.”
She held her grandmother’s wary gaze, look for look, simultaneously praying for forgiveness.
Don’t back down. Don’t give in. While she doubted her grandmother could convince Clint to come again, there was no way she would be subjected to yet another debacle like she had just weathered.
“So just stop, because it’s not fair to Trace,” she pushed.
“Will I get to meet him?”
“If you behave and stop inviting over other young men, or old men, or any kind of man.”
Grandma pursed her lips, and as she seemed to consider the ultimatum, Nadine wondered how she would produce Trace.
“I’ll wait two weeks,” Grandma said. She yawned and glanced at her watch. “I’m tired, Nadine. I think I’ll lie down for a nap. Can you clean up? Thanks.” With that, Grandma walked away.
Nadine watched Barbara close the door to her bedroom. Then, she turned to the kitchen, full of leftovers and dirty dishes, and was left to wonder how Grandma had finessed her way out of both the dishes and another confrontation.
And wonder why Clint had accepted her grandmother’s invitation to lunch.
Chapter 5
Clint leaned back in his chair with the most recent edition of the Sweet Creek Chronicle in his hands, taking a moment to appreciate the new format they were using. It was a struggle to update the fonts, clean out the deadwood, and encourage the reporters to be more creative. Some had resisted change, but others were eager to take a different direction. Slowly, the editors of all three papers were coming around.
The front page had a half-page, color spread of a horse in full buck, a cowboy in midair, fringes of his red chaps fanning. The audience was a soft blur, setting off the action.
He’d have to let Nadine know that he really liked it. Maybe a compliment would put him on her good side.
He snapped open the paper, skimming the other stories, not reading as much as measuring impact. All in all, it was a clean, sharp-looking paper.
He turned to the editorial section and was immediately confronted with a picture of the one who wasn’t coming around.
Nadine Laidlaw.
Clint studied the grainy picture on the top of her column. Her large eyes stared back at him, her full mouth unsmiling. The photo didn’t do her justice, but at the same time, her somber expression was too familiar.
Sunday, when Barbara Laidlaw had invited him to lunch, he thought it would be a chance to ease the tension between him and Nadine.
Yeah, that went well.
After he left her apartment, he thought of a hundred other ways he could have answered Nadine’s question about Leslie, without breaking the promise he’d made to her sister.
Sunday was one of those times when the convictions that Dory had instilled hampered more than helped him. As Nadine seemed to grill him about his breakup, he wanted nothing more than to tell her the real reason he and Leslie had broken up. He wanted to tell her about broken promises, and the guy who Leslie had been fooling around with and who Leslie was terrified Nadine would find out about. When Clint discovered who it was he told Nadine he had to break up with her even as she pleaded for a second chance.
Clint knew there was more to his breakup than Leslie’s infidelity. His heart had never been truly engaged in the relationship.
Still looking at Nadine’s picture, he blew out a sigh and wondered why he thought things would have changed between them—even though, it seemed, Grandma Laidlaw was on his side.
Plus, she didn’t seem to be above a little matchmaking. While he was pleased to have such a strong ally in his corner, he wondered if it even helped.
And he wondered why Nadine still held his attention.
He turned the page to “About Town,” giving it a cursory glance. He had wanted to cut it when he came, but the letters from the readers convinced him otherwise.
This week, the column was the usual boring chitchat. The name of a town councilor seen at the golf course during one of the meetings, other well-known people and their goings-on. Local reporter Nadine Laidlaw spotted at the theater in Eastbar with...
“What?” Clint shook the paper, as if to bring the name into focus. “Who in the world is Trace Bennet?”
He suddenly realized he had spoken aloud and glanced through the open door to see if Julie had noticed. Thankfully, she wasn’t at her desk. He looked back at the paper and reread the piece. Was this Trace guy a boyfriend?
And why was that name so familiar? Maybe Nadine had mentioned it when he’d met her the other day at the Riverside Inn. Thinking back, he remembered she had been evasive about whom she’d been with.
He suddenly felt very foolish. She already had a boyfriend and kept making it clear that she wasn’t interested in him. No wonder she’d been so cool to him on Sunday. What an idiot he was.
Julie was now at her desk. She looked up and smiled as the door jangled open. “Hey, Nadine,” he heard her call out.
Clint couldn’t help the tingle of awareness as he heard Nadine’s name. He straightened as she entered the main office area and dropped her knapsack on the reception desk. Her cheeks were ruddy from the morning air. Unfortunately, her thick, dark hair was pulled back into the ever-present ponytail. On Sunday, as she wore a skirt and her hair hung loose on her shoulders, she had looked softer, more approachable. Less the sassy reporter and more womanly.
He let his eyes travel over her face. She had a firm mouth, offset by unique eyes that tilted upward at the corners, accented by narrow eyebrows. Her striking features drew him again and again. He had been attracted to her from the beginning, yet was put off by her prickly manner. Somehow, the intervening years had softened her features. Sorrow granted her an air of vulnerability he was sure she was unaware of.
Nadine seemed to sense his gaze and met his eyes. Clint felt once again the spark of awareness he experienced each time their eyes met. She blinked and jerked her gaze away.
“Let’s see the latest news from the bustling metropolis of Sweet Creek,” Nadine said.
Julie slapped a paper into Nadine’s outstretched hand, and she laid it out on the counter, eyeing the front page. She glanced Clint’s way and, holding up the paper, her smile shifted into a polite expression. “Nice shot, eh?”
He sauntered over, hands in the pockets of his pants holding back his jacket. “Looks great, Nadine. Good job.”
Nadine smiled. “Thanks, my sartorial boss.” She turned back to the paper, flipping the pages as he had done a few moments ago. Clint could tell by the way her soft brown eyes traveled over the pages that she was looking at them the way he had. Not reading but checking for overall impression.
“Cute little piece in ‘About Town’ on your trip to Eastbar,” he gibed, needing to know about this boyfriend.
She frowned and turned to the section. As she read the piece, he could tell—to the second—when her eyes hit her name. A flush shot to her hairline. She swallowed and, without looking at him, slapped the paper shut, caught her knapsack with her other hand, and marched down the hallway.
Clint raised one eyebrow in surprise, his curiosity further aroused by Nadine’s reaction.
“You did this. I know
you did,” Nadine hissed, shaking the paper in front of her friend’s face.
Elaine rose and shut the door to her office. “Of course I did,” she said, giving Nadine a broad grin. “I know your grandma always reads that section. Doesn’t she?”
“But...the paper,” Nadine sputtered. “To put it in the newspaper...”
“Oh, c’mon. Most people know it’s idle gossip. But your grandma puts as much stock in it as anything she hears from the pulpit on Sunday. I knew if she read it, it would bolster your cause.” Elaine walked over and patted her friend on the shoulder. “Trust me. It’s for the best.”
Nadine looked up at Elaine and then back at the paper. “What do I do?”
“Nothing, you ninny. Grandma will read it, believe what you told her, and then she’ll move out. Which, I might remind you,” Elaine said, her voice stern, “was the point of this whole exercise.”
“But she wants to meet this guy, eventually. I have to do something.”
“Just hope that this little piece in the paper will be enough. Send her on her way and tell her you’ll bring him for Thanksgiving.” Elaine sat on her desk, her arms crossed. “Just before Thanksgiving, you ‘break up’ with him. Easy as can be.”
“Easy for you to say, that is.” Nadine looked once more at the offending section, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe you did this.”
“Hey, I could have put in Clint Fletcher’s name.”
Nadine shot her a murderous look. “You dare.”
“Hey. You could do worse,” Elaine said with a laugh. “Clint’s pretty easy on the eyes, and whether you like to admit it or not, I think you agree.”
The problem was, she did agree; she agreed most wholeheartedly. Even after the debacle of Sunday, seeing him could still raise her heart rate.
But after Sunday’s mess, she doubted he would want to have anything personal to do with her anyhow.
“Well, thanks to this, whether I agree or not, he probably thinks I’m taken.”
“Maybe he’ll get jealous.”
Nadine released a hard laugh. “Too much history there. Besides, he’s my boss, and he doesn’t like some of the things I write about.”
And she was sure if she followed through on the letter she had received the other day, he would be less than happy with her.
Nadine was scribbling notes on a pad of paper when a knock on the door caught her attention. She looked up to see Elaine standing in the doorway, a pained look on her face.
“Do you have a few moments? Someone wants to see you,” Elaine said.
Her voice was strained.
“Can you tell me who it is?” Nadine wondered if it was someone from Skyline. Clint would have a fit if it was.
“Um...Okay...” Elaine stepped into her office and closed the door.
“What’s wrong?” Nadine’s radar was on full alert now. “Who is this person?”
“Promise you won’t stab me with your letter opener?”
“Tell me why I might do that?”
“Just bear with me. There’s a guy in the reception room...”
“Okay,” Nadine said, rotating one hand impatiently.
“His name is Trace Bennet.”
“What?”
“He says he’s Trace Bennet.”
“Is this a joke?” Nadine struggled to find her breath.
Elaine leaned further back as if afraid Nadine might, in fact, attack her with an office supply. She looked a bit green. “He said his name is Trace. Trace Bennet.”
Nadine had to shake her head to settle the questions and thoughts.
“You sure he’s not pulling your leg?”
“He gave me a business card, and he’s kind of cute,” Elaine added with a feeble smile. “I don’t think he’s a stalker either. He seemed sincere.”
Nadine sighed and pressed her palms to her cheeks. “Okay. Okay, send him in.”
“Do you want Wally or Clint around? In case he is trouble?”
“You told me you don’t think he’s a stalker, though right about now, I’m mistrusting your judgment.” Nadine stood. “Just send him in already.”
Elaine scurried out of the office, leaving Nadine to wonder what in the world she had started with her “boyfriend.”
A moment later Elaine appeared at the door with a tall, rather good-looking man. He had wavy red hair and gray eyes that seemed to sparkle with amusement. His grin underlined the humor in his eyes.
“So, Nadine, this is Trace. Trace Bennet.”
“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Trace said, holding out a hand to her, while a dimple appeared in one cheek. He wore a loose sweater and blue jeans and looked very self-confident.
And not at all like a stalker.
Nadine forced a smile and then took his outstretched hand. “Sure. Yeah.”
Elaine stood behind Trace, lifting her hands in a what-can-I-do gesture.
“I’m a little confused here,” Trace said.
That makes two of us.
“Well, we can see what we can do about that,” Nadine said with a shaky laugh. “Please, sit down.”
“I think I had better check on some coffee.” Elaine took a few steps backward, bumping into the door before she beat a hasty retreat.
Nadine sighed and looked once more at Trace Bennet. What coincidence had caused her to come up with this man’s name? This man who was very handsome and frighteningly real, now seated in a chair, smiling hesitantly at her?
“I have to apologize, Mr. Bennet...” Her usual interviewing skills disappeared.
“That’s okay.” He smiled and leaned forward. “I’m guessing it was a coincidence. I had to come to this office this morning, anyhow. When I noticed my name and yours in the paper, I thought maybe I should talk to you.”
Nadine was puzzled, his name echoing from some other source in her mind. “Why did you have to come to this office?”
“I’m starting a new business and needed to talk to you, as the editor, about covering our opening day. I had sent you some information.”
Nadine looked at him, and suddenly it all fell into place. There’d been a letter. A new farm implement dealership. With his name on the e-mail. “That’s where I got the name.”
“Pardon me?” Trace looked confused.
“The papers you sent me. I must have pulled your name from there. That night, when Grandma...” She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
“When Grandma...” he prompted.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nadine replied, embarrassed. “It’s a long story, and you’re a complete stranger who, unfortunately, got caught up in a bunch of lies. I’m very, very sorry.”
“Don’t be. Nothing bad came of it.” Trace smiled. “I’m glad I came down to the office today.”
The door opened and Elaine bustled in, carrying a tray bearing two steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of some broken cookies. “Sorry,” she said. “I had to rescue the bag from Wally.” She set the tray on the desk by Nadine and was about to execute another hasty exit when Nadine reached over and caught her friend by the arm.
“You’ve already met Elaine, but I bet she didn’t tell you she was instrumental in this whole business.” Nadine forced a smile at her friend, squeezing her fingers on her arm.
“What?” Elaine sputtered. “You’re the one who came up with the name.” Elaine turned to Trace, pressing one hand against her chest. “Honest. I just worked with the raw material provided by my friend Nadine. What I did was just embroidery.”
Nadine let go, shaking her head at her friend’s duplicity. “I didn’t think you’d put it in the newspaper for everyone to read...”
“No. I put it in the newspaper for your grandma to read.” Elaine turned to Nadine, an exasperated expression on her face. “That was the point, wasn’t it? To let Grandma know you had a boyfriend so she would move out of your house and leave you alone?”
“Somehow, it worked out that the whole county got to read that little tidbit, as well...”
“Excuse me, girls,” Trace interrupted with a laugh. “It’s really not a problem.”
“No?” they both said at once, turning in unison to him.
“Not at all. I’m new in town.” He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I wanted to meet Nadine anyway. On a purely professional basis. When I saw that we had attended the movie in Eastbar, well, I was intrigued.”
“That’s great,” Elaine said to Nadine. “Here’s your boyfriend. All you need to do is bring him home to Grandma.”
“Just a minute, Elaine...” sputtered Nadine, seeing an instant need to take control of the situation. “Mr. Bennet is a stranger. He’s here to do business.” She sat back, feeling overwhelmed.
Trace Bennet clasped his hands behind his head, looking perfectly at ease. “Why don’t you tell me the history of this little episode? I think it’s the least you can do,” he added in a teasing tone.
Nadine bit her lip, looking contritely at him. “If I had known...”
“I said it’s okay,” he said, grinning. “So, I gather there’s a grandma in this sordid tale.”
Elaine sat down beside him, appearing more than ready to fill him in.
“Elaine, maybe you had better see if Julie needs any help out front?”
Her friend frowned, then, taking the broad hint, stood, but gave Trace one more quick smile.
When the door closed behind her, Nadine pulled in a long breath, trying to steady her racing heart, hoping the embarrassed flush on her cheeks wasn’t too obvious.
“Anyhow, the story,” Nadine began again. “My grandma has been living with me for the past five years, ever since my mother got sick. I’ve always been very thankful for what she’s done, but she was never content to sit back and let other people live their lives. The problem is, she won’t rest until her only single granddaughter, being me, is married or, at the least, settled down with a boyfriend.”
“Which was supposed to be me,” Trace said with a grin.
“Which was supposed to be a fictional character,” Nadine said. “Your name popped out one day when I found out she was inviting all kinds of single men over for supper.” Nadine lifted her hands in surrender. “I’d had enough and told her I had a date that night, and somehow—I guess from skimming over the material—your name came to mind. Elaine ran with it and this is the result.”
Her Heart's Promise Page 6