by Barri Bryan
Trace argued, “I did not.” He sounded like a guilty teenager.
Ralph replied, “Yes, you did."
Trace considered arguing further and dismissed that thought before it had formed completely in his head. He knew his dad and how stubborn the old man could be.
He held his tongue and rubbed Minerva's ears as she purred contentedly.
Lillie looked skeptical. “Are you telling me that there's nothing romantic between you and Lynn?"
Before he could answer, Lynn said, “Mother, for heaven's sake. Trace and I have a business deal. Trace made some repairs on my building."
Lillie wasn't convinced. “And what else did Trace do?"
Ralph said, “I've been wondering the same thing."
Trace glared at his dad. “You stay out of this.” He could never remember feeling more foolish or more uncomfortable. “Mrs. McGuire, Lillie, you're prying into things that aren't your affair."
Lillie's eyebrows climbed skyward. “I'm prying? And just what do you think the two of you have been doing for the past three weeks?"
For the first time, Trace was seeing this situation from the perspective of Lillie and Ralph. “And we are here now to apologize for that mistake.” He stroked Minerva's soft fur as she nestled close to him.
Ralph spoke to Lynn, “What about you, young lady? Are you sorry for your part in this?"
Lynn refused to meet his steady gaze. “Yes, I am."
Ralph rubbed his hand across his chin. “What do you say, Lil, shall we forgive them?” Trace could swear his dad was enjoying his discomfort.
Lillie looked doubtful. “I don't know...” She grimaced. “I have to forgive Lynn, she's my child. As for Trace, anyone that Minerva snuggles up to can't be all bad.” She giggled. Sure, I forgive them.” She sobered suddenly. “This time, but it had better not happen again."
Lynn's tone was mocking. “Now the two of you are free to do anything your hearts desire."
Trace sent her another warning glance. Apologizing was one thing. Giving their parents carte blanche to misbehave was another. “I wouldn't go so far as to say that."
Ralph chuckled, “Are the two of you worried that Lil and I will do something foolish like elope?” He smiled at Lillie. “We won't, but it's only because Lil refuses to marry me."
Lillie returned his smile. “I refuse to marry anyone. I'd lose my widow's pension if I married again."
Ralph argued, “Lil, honey, I want to take care of you."
Lilly shook her head. “We've been over this before. The answer is no."
Trace laid Minerva on the cushion beside him and stood. “Dad, we really should go."
Lynn got to her feet. “I have to run, too."
Trace wondered if she was running to Joel. That thought brought an unwelcome stab of pain.
As Minerva hopped to the floor, Ralph patted the cushion she'd vacated. “Come over here and keep me company, Lil."
Minerva followed Trace across the room and rubbed against his pant leg.
Surprise lifted Lillie's voice. “Minerva has taken a real fancy to you. That speaks well for your character.” She told Lynn. “Take Trace home. Ralph is staying for supper."
Lynn put both hands on her hips. “Mother honestly..."
Lillie rested her hands on the arms of her chair and lifted herself to a standing position. “Good-bye, Lynnie, call me tomorrow."
Ralph said, without taking his eyes off Lillie, “Leave your pickup keys, Son."
Trace had come through this ordeal relatively unscathed. Now he felt a definite need to escape. He laid his pickup keys on the table by the door and held it open for Lynn. “Do you mind dropping me off?"
Lynn grabbed her handbag and hurried through the door. “Of course I don't mind."
Trace closed the door and followed Lynn to her car. “I hope this is not too much of an inconvenience.” When his father got home, they were going to have a long talk. The nerve of that old man commandeering his pickup as if he had every right to do so.
Lynn said over her shoulder, “Get in. Let's go.
Trace had barely fastened his seat belt when Lyn pulled her car into reverse and shot out the drive. “Where do you live?"
She seemed to be in a hurry. Was she late for an appointment with Joel? Trace said, “Let me off in town. I'll get a cab home."
He had expected her to argue. Instead she said, “I can do that."
They drove for several minutes in silence. Finally, Trace could stand no more. He watched her from the corner of his eye. “I came back to your house last night."
Lynn glanced briefly in his direction. “You did? Why didn't you come upstairs?"
"You already had a guest.” He had to know for sure. “It was Joel Evans, wasn't it?"
Was there a chance that he was wrong? Every instinct he possessed argued against that premise. He literally held his breath as he waited for her answer.
After what seemed an interminable length of time, Lynn said, “Yes, it was Joel."
Trace had no right to ask, but he did anyway. “What the hell did he want?"
"He wanted another chance."
Trace ordered, “Stop the car."
Lynn began, “But I..."
"Don't argue, stop. Now."
Lynn pulled to the curb. “Trace, you don't understand..."
Trace did understand, and that was the problem. He got out of the car. “I'll see you Wednesday at three o'clock. Walter Winters is meeting me then for his final inspection.” He slammed the door hard and stormed away without a backward glance.
It was over even before it had really begun. With a heavy heart, he whistled at a passing taxi.
Chapter 15
Lynn stirred ingredients into a big mixing bowl. This was the day Trace and Walter were scheduled to make the final examination on her building. Hopefully it would pass inspection and she would be rid of Walter Winters for good. The problem was that she'd be rid of Trace, too.
Last Sunday afternoon that realization had brought a surge of anger. As the days passed, anger reduced to despair that had in turn converted to a kind of stoic acceptance.
Maybe it was meant to be this way. It was definitely safer. It was far better she never become involved with Trace than she risk heartbreak and rejection.
Whom was she kidding? She was already involved with Trace, even though she didn't want to be.
Lynn punched the dough with her fist. Trace had indicted and convicted her without giving her a chance to explain about Joel. Maybe he didn't want her to explain. Maybe he was looking for an excuse to break off their relationship. She gave the dough another vicious punch. She'd had a one-night stand with the man. That could hardly be considered a relationship. Trace must think her to be wanton and immoral.
Ruthie came to stand in the doorway. “Mrs. Haley called. She placed an order for a chocolate cake for her Saturday evening dinner party. She says Mr. Haley will pick it up around four o'clock Saturday afternoon."
Lynn asked, “What kind of chocolate cake—mint, pecan, plain? What size cake does she want?"
Ruthie's smooth brow wrinkled. “I sort of forgot to ask her what size or what kind."
Lynn reasoned that Ruthie may be a little slow but she was also honest. In the long run that was what was important. She came around the counter. “It's time for a break. I'll wash my hands and call Mrs. Haley."
Later, seated at the table in the corner, Lynn took a quick sip of coffee and reached for the telephone. After a brief conversation with Mrs. Haley, she hung up. “She wants a large mint chocolate."
Ruthie apologized. “I'm sorry I forgot. I'll remember next time.” She put her elbows on the table, set her chin in her hands and announced bluntly, “I heard that Mr. Evans wanted you to take him back and you refused."
Lynn wasn't surprised that Ruthie knew. By now everyone in Hatlesville had probably heard about Joel's Saturday night visit. “You heard right."
With artless sincerity, Ruthie said, “Poor Mr. Evans.” She held up
one hand. “But I don't blame you. Why would you want Joel Evans when you have Trace Randolph?"
Lynn didn't have Trace. And she might never have a more perfect opportunity to make that fact know to everyone in Hatlesville. “Trace and I are no longer seeing each other. After today he's out of my life for good.” Uttering those words sent a stab of pain right through Lynn's heart.
Ruthie smiled, revealing her dimple. “You can't fool me. I've seen the two of you together. You are crazy about Trace, and he has the hots for you, too."
Ruthie did have a way of turning a phrase. Lynn considered explaining about her rather complicated relationship with Trace. How could she clarify to the likes of Ruthie something that she didn't completely understand herself? The answer was she couldn't. “Trace and I are no longer a couple."
They never had been, not really.
Ruthie dropped her arms and sat up in her chair. “Don't tell me the rat dumped you?"
In a way that was exactly what had happened. “I don't want to talk about it."
Ruthie was quick to offer Lynn sympathy. “You poor dear,” and condemn Trace, “The dirty rat."
Lynn patted the younger woman's hand. “It's all right; now let's get back to work."
* * * *
By three-thirty in the afternoon, Lynn began to wonder if Trace and Walter had postponed their inspection date. She could call Trace. She could but she wouldn't. God forbid that she should give Walter the satisfaction of calling and asking him anything.
It was well after four when Walter arrived. He came into the bakery huffing and puffing like a steam engine. Without so much as a hello he demanded, “Where is your hot-shot carpenter? I'm running behind time, and I still have another inspection to make."
Before Lynn could answer, Trace's bass voice boomed from the doorway. “I'm here."
Walter pulled a sheet of paper from the notebook he had under his arm. “Let's get on with this.” He walked around the room looking and then checking his list. Trace followed Walter. Lynn followed Trace.
Walter was being unnecessarily fussy and demanding. Lynn wanted to tell him what a jackass she thought he was. She didn't dare. Instead, she comforted herself with the thought that this ordeal would be over soon.
The trio moved from the front of the store to the kitchen and then on to the storeroom with Walter either questioning or criticizing at each point along the way. By the time they reached the back door, Lynn was ready to explode. She was too angry with Walter to protest when Trace told her she wasn't needed outside.
Lynn returned to the front of the bakery and sat at the table in the corner. “Damn Walter Winters."
Ruthie came to sit across from Lynn. “My mamma thinks Walter's a jerk. When Daddy built a back porch onto our house last year, Walter gave him a citation for not having a permit."
Lynn looked anxiously toward the front door. “If my building fails this inspection, Walter will probably take steps to have it condemned.” That thought made her shudder.
As Trace and Walter came through the front door, Ruthie said, “You will know soon now."
That she would. Lynn steeled herself for bad news. “Get us some coffee, Ruthie."
Ruthie hopped to her feet. “I'll bring some cookies, too."
As Walter and Trace sat on either side of her, Lynn asked, “Is it good news or bad?"
Walter's ferret face screwed into an almost smile. “I'm not sure. Maybe I should have you put lights over the exit signs you painted over the doors."
Ruthie returned carrying a tray with four cups of coffee, cream and sugar and a plate of cookies. She put the tray in the center of the table and sat across from Lynn as if she had every right to do so.
Lynn couldn't believe her ears when Trace said, “Maybe you should.” Before she could protest, Trace continued. “And maybe you should also have the city do something about those gas meters on the south side of the bakery. They're far too near the building."
Walter took a quick swallow of coffee. “The city will have to pay to have those meters moved. That's a big expense."
Trace nodded in agreement. “It would. The city will also have to pay for paving that rough stretch of street in front of the bakery and for widening the alley behind it, but those are things that need to be done if you're going to be in compliance with city standards, don't you agree?"
Walter set his cup on the table. “If you think you can blackmail me into saying this building passes inspection, you're wrong."
Trance's voice was soft, and quiet, and deadly. “Ms. Evans has done her part to assure that this building passes inspection, Mr. Winters. Now the ball is in your court."
Walter bristled, “You got that right. This building don't pass unless I say it passes."
"And if you don't pass it,” Trace retorted, “I will assume that the reason is because those gas meters are too near the building, or is it because of the need to pave the street in front?” Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe it's because the alley in back needs widening."
There he goes, Lynn thought, mounting his white charger and riding to the rescue. She smiled. This time she was glad for his intervention.
Walter turned a pasty shade of white. “That ain't for you to decide."
Trace agreed, and then added, “It would be up to the City Council. I'll ask them at their next meeting, and I'll be sure to mention your name."
Walter took a pen from his shirt pocket. “We can forget about the lights.” With a flourish he signed the paper at the bottom of the page, tore off the top sheet and gave it to Lynn.
She folded it and put it in her apron pocket. “Good-bye Walter."
Walter scooped up a handful of cookies and slipped them into his pocket. “I'm out of here."
Lynn breathed a huge sigh of relief as she watched him go through the door and hurry to his city truck. As he drove away, she turned toward Trace. “Thank you."
Ruthie smiled, revealing her elusive dimple. “Thank you for me too. You really put Walter in his place."
Trace grinned. “It was my pleasure."
Ruthie reached for a cookie. “Sometimes you can be a nice guy."
Trace raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, I think."
Ruthie pushed her cookie into her mouth and stood. “Just look, it's five-thirty already.” She swallowed before asking, “Can I go home now Lynn?"
Lynn nodded. “Yes, but remember you should be here by eight o'clock tomorrow morning."
Ruthie agreed, “Okay. I'll remember to set my alarm.” At the door she paused to address Trace. “I'm going to tell Mamma what you did to Walter. She will like that. I guess I'll have to tell her too that you dumped Lynn. She won't like that.” With a wave of her hand she was out the door and gone.
Lynn quickly changed the subject. “I owe you money. I computed what ten percent of the materials you used here would be. Is a personal check okay?"
Trace grinned, “I dumped you? That's one I hadn't heard yet. Maybe I'm too near the end of the gossip grapevine.” His grin widened. “I did hear earlier today that you dumped Joel. Is that true?"
Lynn shook her head. “I did. I tried to tell you so last Sunday."
Trace's grin vanished. “Last Sunday I was past hearing anything you had to say. But now...” His grin reappeared as he gave her a smoldering look. “Lock the door. You and I have some talking to do."
Chapter 16
Trace had thought that Lynn might refuse to talk to him. He suspected she might even show him the door. At best he anticipated some token argument. Instead she got up, locked the door, turned her Open sign to read Closed, came back across the room, and sat again in the chair next to him without uttering a sound.
Trace drew a long breath. He was going to have to apologize again. “I'm sorry for the way I behaved Sunday when you tried to explain about Joel."
Words he had thought would bring a positive response elicited a frown. “I wasn't trying to explain about Joel. I was trying to tell you what happened. I don't ow
e you an explanation about Joel or anything else for that matter."
She didn't intend to make this easy for him. Trace moved restlessly in his chair.
"I'm not asking for explanations. But I do need some answers."
Lynn's brow lifted. “What kind of answers?"
Trace replied, “Honest answers."
Lynn turned her head to one side and narrowed her eyes in his direction. “Honest answers about what?"
Trace closed his eyes and opened them again slowly. “About a lot of things, beginning with where..."
Lynn interrupted to ask, “Why?"
"Will you stop answering my questions by asking other questions?” Trace slid his chair back and crossed his legs, a feat he couldn't accomplish with them under the table. “It's damn frustrating to ask questions and get questions for answers."
Lynn had the impudence to smile. “I'd ask why but I don't think that would be a good idea."
Trace had thought this through carefully. He knew that if he expected Lynn to be honest with him he would have to be honest with her first. Being honest meant letting down carefully erected barriers to reveal intimate feelings and emotions. Did he dare take that chance?
"I ... I...” Once he spoke, there would be no going back. “I can tell you why..."
What if she rejected him? Resolve moved in to chase away his ambivalence. What he stood to gain was worth the risk. “I need to know where I stand with you."
Lynn leaned forward in anticipation, and asked yet another question, “Why?"
Trace vaulted to his feet, and strode halfway across the room before turning to face her. “Because, damn it, I think I'm in love with you.” Holy Toledo, had he just said that?
Lynn's mouth fell open. She closed it and swallowed before gasping, “You think?” After a caught breath she asked, “Don't you know?"
Trace's hands seemed like useless appendages. “I don't...” He pushed them into his pockets. “Nothing like this ever happened to me before."
Retracing his footsteps, he turned his chair around, straddled it and folded his arms across the back. “With Eva it was so different.” Lynn's questioning glance made him add, “Eva was my wife."