When she touched the door’s metal handle, a rumble of thunder boomed over the parking lot. Haley jumped and gazed toward the dark clouds rolling across the sky.
“Oh no,” she breathed and counted the minutes it would take her to walk back to the travel agency. She glanced down at her bare toes in the strappy gold sandals. Even though the shoes were flats, she’d still be forced to trudge through rain without an umbrella.
Unless I can get there before the rain starts, she thought and imagined herself racing a fourth of a mile while holding her purse and the bulging bag of clothing. Oh well, Haley mused, sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. She scanned the parking lot and didn’t spot even one raindrop on any windshields.
With all the gusto of the Australian spirit, Haley shoved open the door and hurried onto the sidewalk. The second the door shut, a flash zipped across the sky while a crackling roar jolted Haley into a lurch and yelp. She stumbled backward, clutched her purse and shopping bag, and hovered near the glass storefront. Haley hated storms as a child—especially if her foster mother hadn’t checked on her crying.
A gust of wind bearing the smell of rain predicted the inevitable. As if someone in the clouds flipped a water switch, the heavens pelted the cars and parking lot with fat drops that splashed with a vengeance. A flash in the distance preceded grumbles that floundered among the clouds.
“Oh no,” Haley groaned again and checked her watch—a demurely glitzy number with tiny, black crystals that she’d liked the second she saw it. Today Amanda had taken a two-hour lunch with one of the travel-agency managers visiting from the mainland, and she’d told Haley to enjoy a long lunch, as well. However, she was supposed to be back at the office by one thirty. She glanced at her watch and noted she had exactly twelve minutes left.
But this rain is just too hard! Haley thought and decided to stay dry and safe until the rain stopped. Amanda would understand. She was one of the most understanding people Haley had ever known.
The door opened to the shoe shop next to Delightful, and a man bustled out while wrestling a black umbrella. “Terribly wet today, isn’t it?” he commented and glanced toward her with a friendly nod.
Prepared to offer an amiable response, Haley opened her mouth, then stopped. Her eyes rounded as she observed the thin face and kind eyes she knew so well.
“Roger!” she gasped.
“Haley?” Roger leaned forward and scrutinized her.
“Yes, it’s me,” she replied.
“You—you’ve changed!” he exclaimed and lowered the unopened umbrella.
Haley touched her hair and blinked. “Yes, I’ve, um, made a few changes. Amanda said I should.” She stopped herself from asking the question that popped into her mind, Do you like the new me?
“You look great!” The appreciation cloaking Roger’s rugged features validated his claim.
“Thanks.” Haley looked down and talked herself out of a severe blush. The best she could tell, her face heated to only a moderate tinge of the cheeks.
She eyed Roger’s work boots and the worn jeans that touched the tops, then glanced upward. As usual, he was dressed in farm gear—blue jeans and a denim work shirt. A gust of wet wind whipped at her hair and tousled his.
Haley flinched against the cool spray that dashed her face, and a spontaneous chill shook her. The temperature must have dropped fifteen degrees.
“This is a nasty storm, isn’t it?” Roger said with a gleeful smile. He wiped at his face and looked toward the clouds as if he were receiving the best of gifts. “Looks like it’s spitting at us now.”
A nervous giggle tottered out of Haley, but another gust of wind dampened her humor. She pressed her body against the window and noted a stream two inches deep flowing along the curb.
The whoosh and pop of his opening umbrella accompanied Roger’s stepping toward her. “Would you like to use my umbrella?” he asked and twirled it.
“Please,” Haley replied and moved from the glass toward the man she once thought would be her husband.
Instead of handing her the umbrella, Roger walked to her side and held it at an angle against the storm. The rest of the world was blocked out, and Haley felt as if they were in a world of their own, all cozy and isolated.
“There,” he said with a comforting smile. “This way, you’ll stay dry.”
Haley nodded and detected a whiff of freshly laundered clothes. Roger never had gone for anything fancy in men’s fragrances, and that fit his uncomplicated personality. He’d always been like the sun—forever present, forever steady, forever warm. She didn’t expect the flutter in her chest. After all, she’d convinced herself she was over Roger Miller . . . or needed to be.
His eager gaze scanned her features, and Haley was left with no doubt that he hadn’t even begun to get over her. As her heart pummeled her ribs, Haley wondered if this chance meeting might be an answer to her prayer for divine guidance this very morning.
Another flash and boom sent Haley into such a leap she dropped her shopping bag. When she stooped to pick it up, she found Roger right beside her, still holding the umbrella against the rain.
“Storms always did terrify you,” he said, the umbrella capturing his voice’s rhythm.
“And you always thought they were the greatest things ever,” Haley responded and shook her head. She gathered the bag full of clothing and stood.
“There’s nothing more beautiful than lightning against a dark sky.” He paused, looked down, and smiled into her eyes. “Well, almost nothing,” he added with a sly wink.
Haley caught her breath and couldn’t stop the hot blush this time.
“So where are you headed?” Roger questioned, a satisfied tenor to his voice.
“I walked down here from work. I was going to walk back, but . . .” She pointed toward the rain.
“Want me to give you a ride?” he asked and jerked his head toward the parking lot. “I’m in the farm truck, but I can move some clutter and make a spot for you.”
“Would you mind too terribly?” Haley asked and glanced at her watch again. “I’m supposed to be back in five minutes.”
Roger touched the face of her watch. “I say, Haley,” he teased, “this is a flashy little guy. Have you gone and bought your cat a rhinestone collar, too?”
Haley lifted her wrist between them. Even in the dim light, the tiny black crystals shimmered with life. “Do you like it?” she asked.
“I think it’s just right and goes great with . . .” he looked her head to toe, “with everything . . . with the new you,” Roger babbled.
“Amanda got one a lot like it with clear crystals. If you think this one’s flashy, you should see hers. It will put your eyes out.” Haley’s snicker didn’t sound any less nervous than Roger’s voice. Her spine felt like jelly, and her knees had gone liquid.
A slight frown rippled his forehead. “Well good, then,” he said and glanced toward the parking lot. “I’ll pull my truck up, and you wait here. Do you mind if I take my umbrella?”
“No, of course not.” Haley shook her head. “I insist.”
After a nod, Roger bounded into the rain, sprinting across the parking lot. With his every footfall, water splashed up and covered his jeans while rain rushed off his umbrella. The sounds of tires slapping the lot’s watery pavement meshed with the hiss of cars rolling along the thoroughfare. The smell of fresh rain, the lazy rumble in the distance, the smile and question in Roger’s eyes all insisted Haley would never view storms the same.
Twenty
Amanda sat at her desk and stared across her office at a mural from South Africa. The artist had captured the arrogant stance of a charging elephant, trunk lifted, tusks strong, and eyes gleaming with challenge. Behind her stood an army of like-minded elephants.
When Amanda awoke this morning, she could have identified with the hulking mammals. She’d been ready to take on her day. Then she’d gone to lunch with the branch manager from Sydney, fully expecting to have a success report from th
e lively young executive. He, on the other hand, had planned the whole luncheon as a nice way to resign.
Amanda slid her forefinger and thumb down the shaft of the silver-plated pen she’d found at the “Noah” level of her desk clutter. She flipped the pen and repeated the gesture. The irritation over having to find a replacement for Ken-the-working-machine had driven her to deal with the mound of receipts, stacks of notes, and miscellaneous nothings she normally avoided. Now her trash can was overflowing, her desk was clean, and she’d found the pen Nate Knighton had given her for her twenty-fourth birthday.
But Amanda still hadn’t found a solution to her hiring needs. Ken was a one-in-a-million manager. No one currently on staff could even touch him. Even though Amanda had offered him a big pay raise and a bonus, he’d declined. As things turned out, Ken was marrying a Canadian lady and moving to Canada after the wedding next month.
Amanda sighed and observed the pen. Nate had gotten her name engraved on the barrel. She touched the cursive script and wondered what Nate was doing these days. He hadn’t even been to church, which made Amanda really question what was going on. Nate never missed services. He often said the corporate worship experience kept him going through the week.
He’s probably having sing-alongs with Janet and her piano, she thought.
Betty had been bringing Janet to work with her these days. Unfortunately, Janet looked good even in her cleaning smock. Amanda tried to talk herself out of the growing irritation she felt every time Janet entered the room. According to Betty, her sister had adopted Janet from a Korean orphanage. At four years old she had little hope for a family due to the fact that most adoptive parents prefer younger children.
Once Amanda learned these facts, she lambasted herself for struggling over her attitude toward the Asian beauty. She could think of no crime Janet had committed—aside from being a perfect size two and gorgeous . . . and Nate thinking exactly that.
This morning the sweet-spirited young woman had even brought Amanda some cookies she’d baked yesterday. The invitation in her eyes said, “Let’s be friends.”
Amanda wanted to howl, But we can’t be friends! Not if you’re Nate’s mystery woman!
She dropped the pen, laid her arm across the desk calendar, and rested her forehead on her arm. Sighing, Amanda stared at the calendar squares. The fact that Nate actually admitted to a mystery woman had astonished Amanda nearly as much as hearing herself ask him. The last few weeks had been a journey from shock to hurt to strangely feeling betrayed.
It’s almost like I’m a little sister who can’t accept her big brother leaving home, she thought.
This morning, Amanda, with her “charging-elephant” mentality, had decided it was time to move on, to accept that Nate was not going to be a part of her life anymore. Then she found the pen. Her eyes stung.
“Oh Father,” she prayed, “please help me. I’m having a bad day.” She held her breath and rapidly blinked. Amanda refused to fall into another fit of tears. After crying over the Mason–Haley fiasco, she’d done the weepy thing all she wanted to for a while.
“I know Janet doesn’t deserve my dislike, and I’m not even sure I understand it,” she prayed. “I’ve never felt this way before. Please, please help me.”
An eager rap on her office door prompted Amanda to sit up straight. The knock sounded like Betty’s. The housekeeper and Janet had been here all day, and Amanda fully expected Betty to simply report they were leaving. Amanda plucked a tissue out of the box on her desk’s corner, dabbed at her eyes, blinked again, and cleared her throat.
“Come in,” she called.
Sure enough, Betty opened the door and stepped into the room. But instead of beginning a brief good-bye, she closed the door and scurried forward.
“Before I leave, there’s something I’ve got to tell you, Miss Amanda,” she whispered and glanced toward Haley’s ajar office door as she passed it. “Do you mind if I shut this?”
“No.” Amanda checked her watch and noticed it was 1:35. “But Haley’s not back from lunch yet,” she said, and thought, That’s odd. Haley’s never late.
“Well, just in case she gets back.” Betty snapped the door shut and waddled forth like a goose on a mission. She didn’t stop until she’d rounded Amanda’s desk and hovered over her.
Amanda leaned back in her chair and looked straight into Betty’s magnified eyes. “Have you heard the latest about Mason Eldridge?” she hissed.
“M-Mason?” Amanda stammered.
“Yes! He’s just come back home. Arrived two nights ago. And guess what?” Betty leaned back and crossed her arms.
“What?” Amanda shifted forward.
“He’s married!” Betty hissed.
“Married!” Amanda exclaimed and stood. “How—wh–what? He’s married?”
“Yes!” Betty nodded and began crumpling and releasing the front of her smock.
“Are you sure?” Amanda asked.
“Perfectly.” The housekeeper pressed her pink lips together.
“When did you find out? How do you know for sure?” Amanda placed her flattened hand on the desk, leaned into it, and wondered how poor Haley would respond to this bit of news.
“I found out yesterday,” Betty explained. “I’ve started cleaning the church, you know.”
“Yes, you mentioned that a couple of weeks ago.”
“Well, I was there yesterday and he came in with her,” Betty said. “And I’ve got to tell you she’s the most brassy creature I’ve ever met in my life! And not half as pretty as Haley.”
“Haley?” Amanda questioned.
“Well, yes.” Betty shoved at her glasses. “Didn’t Haley and he have a thing for a while?”
Amanda looked down at her feet and panicked over how best to answer. Betty was always the source of all sorts of news. Ironically, her information was usually too correct to be mere gossip.
“Where did you hear that?” Amanda asked.
“Sarah told me.”
“Sarah.” Amanda repeated in a flat voice. Their cook was like an all-seeing eye who never said much but never missed much, either. She’d cooked cod for them the night Amanda invited Mason and Haley over for dinner. That same night, Amanda and Nate had exchanged a heated discussion on the balcony. While Amanda couldn’t imagine that Sarah had heard the whole conversation, she could see how the cook might have picked up some clues, added them to Haley’s body language, and arrived at an assumption.
“We were thinking they must have broken up and that’s why Mason took the leave of absence. I figured that’s what he wanted to talk to you about at the Christmas party.” Betty silently blinked, and Amanda put up her guard. The housekeeper was obviously doing more than sharing information. She was also trying to glean the bits missing in her story.
“I see,” Amanda said and was relieved Betty had no information regarding Mason’s proposal. Hopefully that whole shameful ordeal was limited to her, Mason, and Nate.
“Well,” Amanda finally said, “I can honestly tell you that Haley and Mason were never an official couple. If Mason has gone off and gotten married, then maybe he already knew this lady.”
“Maybe so,” Betty said, her features wilting in a veil of disappointment. “Oh well, I just thought you might be interested.”
“Thanks,” Amanda said and noticed Betty’s smock was buttoned crooked. She suppressed a laugh and figured that if Betty ever got it all together, she’d forget where she put it. On an impulse, Amanda fingered the buttons on her white blouse and was satisfied that she was buttoned evenly.
“The church secretary told me Mason’s wife is rich,” Betty added. “She also said it’s a good thing because Mason’s got tastes higher than his income.”
“Oh really?” Amanda questioned and wondered if that had been part of his attraction for her. While the Priebes weren’t the wealthiest family in Australia, Amanda could have chosen the rich, idle lifestyle over a career if she’d so desired. But that never had and never would suit her per
sonality. She was far too goal-oriented to dither her time away at a poolside.
“Credit card bills to here,” Betty added and sliced her index finger across the middle of her sagging neck.
“Wow!” Amanda whispered and plopped back into her chair. “That explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?” Betty asked.
“Uh . . .” Amanda picked up her silver pen and examined it.
Haley’s door whipped opened. “Amanda, you’re not going to believe who I just—”
Amanda had never been so glad to see Haley, and never had Haley looked so flushed.
“Oh!” Haley said and glanced from Amanda to Betty. “I’m sorry. Did I interrupt you?”
“No!” Amanda stood. “We were just chatting,” she continued and hoped Haley read between the lines. In case she didn’t, Amanda mouthed, “Don’t go” while Betty’s attention was fixed upon Haley.
“Actually, I need to be leaving,” Betty explained as if they’d been chatting about the weather. “Janet’s waiting on me.”
“G’day, then,” Amanda said and nearly slumped over the desk when Betty ambled along without blurting anything else about Mason and his new wife. Haley’s discovering the truth was inevitable, but Amanda preferred for her to hear the facts tactfully and gently.
“Be back Monday!” Betty waved and disappeared into the hall.
The second the door snapped shut, Haley hurried forward. “You’re never going to believe who I saw at the shopping center,” she blurted.
“Who?” Still holding the pen, Amanda slipped her hands into her blazer pockets and steeled herself against Haley’s having already seen Mason with his new wife.
“Roger!” Haley said.
“Roger Miller?” Amanda wondered if the man was omnipresent. He seemed to pop up at all sorts of places lately—including the church Christmas party.
Hayley nodded. “I was coming out of that new clothing store in the shopping center,” she pointed north, “and Roger was coming out of the shoe store next door. He had his umbrella. It was raining. He gave me a lift back to the office.”
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