Reaching behind her, she opened the door.
She saw the frustration on Chad’s features when he realized she was serious. “All right. I’m leaving.”
As he stood on the threshold, he stared straight into her eyes, and her resolve almost weakened — it would be so easy to tell him she was sorry, that she hadn’t meant the things she’d said. But she’d meant every word.
“Don’t think this is the last you’ll hear from me,” he threw over his shoulder as he walked down the sidewalk.
For the next hour Sabina sat at her computer listing every bit of information she wanted from her office files the next day. Organizing in detail helped her keep her personal loss at a distance. She’d done her job the way it should be done; before she finished, Chad Peters would find out just how professional she could be.
But when she sat on her couch that night cuddled into her favorite quilt, lists were the farthest thing from her mind. The ceramic shoe lamp she’d made at her first, and last, attempt at crafts, glowed from the low chest in the corner. Chad had laughed extravagantly at her bright orange handiwork. And he’d understood. She’d made so few rebellious moves in her life. The shoe stood for all the times she’d been too inhibited to speak up.
Conventional, restrained, sensible Sabina’s romance hadn’t even lasted a week. And she’d been foolish enough to fall in love into the bargain. She might never see him again, but she would make sure he discovered she had operated by the book. In the dark of night, being right didn’t seem to matter, but it would tomorrow.
By noon the next day Sabina had copied all the material pertinent to Wilbur McDonald. So incensed was she that she never stopped to question the ethics of releasing the information to someone outside the department. In spite of Chad’s thick-headed attitude, she knew he had too much integrity to be careless with the contents of the tan envelope.
During lunch she sent her package assured same day delivery. All she wanted to do was burst into tears.
* * * *
Chad’s day was progressing no better. The arrival of Sabina’s concise list of McDonald’s infractions interrupted his interrogation of Jonas concerning Erica’s activities at the mine site. Jonas’s responses dismayed him, even though the gnarled little man accepted full responsibility for allowing the girl access to the area.
After he had ripped open the package, Chad wished Jonas were elsewhere. As a rule, packets of papers received a welcome comparable to the arrival of strep throat. At his show of interest, Jonas nearly fell out of his chair stretching to see the contents. Removing the packet from his desk, Chad sat back to read each page in detail. Chad knew Jonas was also awaiting more reaction to his revelations about Erica’s involvement at the site. He let him wait. This was more important.
A sinking feeling invaded Chad’s stomach as he read. He feared he had just made himself the most colossal idiot on the planet. Surely McDonald hadn’t ignored all these warnings. Finishing the last page, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. The little man on the other side of the desk looked chastened but curious. With sudden insight, Chad realized he’d been taking his unhappiness out on everyone around him. Raising both hands to his face, he rubbed his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Jonas.”
Jonas relaxed visibly, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “You been havin’ temper tantrums all day, son. Thought you’d growed out of ‘em.”
“This might be the one that actually teaches me a lesson. I really blew it.”
“Nothin’s forever ‘cept `death and taxes.’“ The old man chuckled his own use of the old bromide. “Anythin’ else can be fixed. A person has to learn how to say `I was wrong,’ and you just did.”
“I was never very good at that kind of thing. Besides, you’re not the one who deserves the biggest apology, and I’m not sure that person is going to be receptive.”
Rising, Jonas pushed his cap to the back of his head and scratched the creased skin of his bald forehead. “Depends on how much it means to ya.”
Chad stared down at the papers. He shuffled and straightened the pile, then thumped the stack decisively against the polished surface of his desk and stood. “I’m going to be in Vinton County tomorrow, Jonas. Probably all day. Can you handle everything here?”
The old man’s curiosity was obvious, but Chad had no intention of explaining his absence. His pride had already taken enough of a beating.
“I’ll be at Aunt Clara’s for the rest of the day. If Merton calls, or if anyone wants me, tell them they’ll have to wait till Monday.
* * * *
When Chad arrived at his aunt’s late that afternoon, Erica took the offensive as he walked in the door. “You aren’t selling Calico, Chad. I won’t let you.”
Twenty-four hours earlier, he’d made a complete fool of himself with the woman he loved. Still licking his wounds, Chad now realized he was about to have a serious confrontation with Daniel and Erica. He could have described himself as “chastened” and not felt melodramatic. “So we won’t sell Calico. I never knew the company meant this much to you.”
“Erica’s the one who wants Calico, Chad. And she’s going to have it because I want her to.” Daniel’s jaw was set. “I know my dad thought I would take over, but if he were still here he’d understand why I don’t want to. I have a scholarship to art school.”
Chad was past surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? Did you ever think how much happier we all would have been if you’d told me at the beginning? Am I that unapproachable?”
“It’s not that! Mom and Dad always assumed Daniel would take over when he grew up, just because he’s male. Then after they . . . Anyway, it seemed sort of sacrilegious to think of anything else. You’ve done so much for us!” Erica paused, eyeing him closely. “You know we’d die before we’d hurt you, Chad.”
“I just couldn’t bring up art school,” Daniel chimed in. “I felt I was betraying my dad. But my heart would never be in Calico if it meant giving up art.”
Erica added, “I know I shouldn’t have been sneaking out to the site, but I can’t stay away.”
Chad wondered how he’d missed noticing her interest. Erica’s enthusiasm should have been obvious to him. Sabina knew. Had she guessed? Or had the twins confided in her? “There’s no reason you can’t run Calico, Erica.”
She hugged him exuberantly. “I’m so excited. Sabina said if I told you how much it meant to me, you’d understand.”
The twins had opened their hearts to Sabina, while keeping him in the dark all this time. Chad wondered what else he’d missed.
“Chad, I can get my training at Ohio State. Then I could come home on the weekends to help out. Just in case you find a life of your own.” She winked as she added the rider.
Her not so subtle suggestion touched a nerve, but he answered agreeably, “Of course. But don’t kid yourself that you’ll want to leave campus on weekends, Erica.” He managed a teasing grin. “I expect there’ll be guys around who are taller than you are. Your social life will blossom.”
She burst out, “Chad, I want to help you for a change.”
“I’ve always had everything I want. With you two away from home, I’ll probably find myself looking for things to do.” He forced a smile. For the first time in his life, he wanted to wallow in martyrdom.
Unaware of Chad’s bleak thoughts, Daniel teased, “Maybe now you’ll have more time to
. . . you know, meet someone. Or maybe you already have.”
“Contrary to public opinion, I haven’t made great sacrifices for you two.” As he said the words he knew they were true. His love for them had been behind everything he’d ever done for the pair he loved so much.
Daniel continued, “Have you heard anything from Sabina lately? Ouch!” He turned to his sister. “Why’d you kick me?”
“I didn’t kick you. I stumbled, and my shoe bumped your ankle. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were such a wimp.”
Their exchange failed to bring Chad out of his depressed mood. H
e wished they’d stop asking for answers he couldn’t give. For the first time, he understood why Sabina had been so uncomfortable with his family’s openness.
“I’m going to go help Gran fix supper. She’s in there cooking like crazy because we’re all here to eat at the same time.” As Erica left, she narrowed her eyes warningly at Daniel.
Chad wondered how much his aunt guessed, and how much she’d tell Erica. He’d blundered on a large scale, and there was no way his family would allow him to lick his wounds in private.
Daniel had been incredibly clumsy, but then so had Erica, with her blatant change of subject. She’d always been the more intuitive of the pair, and he was almost relieved she had was in the kitchen, probably pumping her grandmother for all she was worth. He reconciled himself to having his sins dredged out for family discussion.
Tomorrow he’d see the proof of his idiocy. If Sabina was right, and the way things were going she probably was, he knew what he’d find. She’d learned more about Daniel and Erica in three days than they’d confided in him during a lifetime. It stood to reason she’d discovered things he’d never known about Wilbur’s operation.
Chad wondered if he could admit his blindness to her and expect her to love him in spite of it. Replaying the scene in her apartment in his mind, Chad wasn’t sure an ordinary apology would help. He’d been brutal.
She was even on target with her accusation of chauvinism. Would she accept his attitude as one that still prevailed in a part of the country that was frequently ten years behind many sections of the world in political correctness? His attitudes were already changing. There had to be some way to convince her he was trying — some way other than crawling to her and apologizing. But if he had to, he would.
“Are you going to be around this weekend, Chad?”
“I’m checking out a mining operation tomorrow.”
“Thinking of buying it?”
Was Daniel’s suggestion the result of Divine intervention? Sabina had said she’d cried after seeing the obscenities Wilbur had abandoned. The germ of an idea exploded in his mind. It was so perfect his depression vanished.
“You know, Daniel, that’s not a bad idea. If we’re to keep Calico, I’ll need to look for a manager soon. The bank needs more time than I’ve been giving. If we owned two small operations it would be worthwhile to hire someone. Are you sure you don’t want to come into the family business? Vision like that can’t be taught.”
Horrified panic crossed Daniel’s open features. “Gosh, no. I mean . . . you did say you were impressed by my scholarship.”
“I meant that, Daniel. And I’m so proud of you. I’m just sorry you had to feel guilty, instead of being able to celebrate.”
The teenager clambered to his feet as if anxious to leave before Chad changed his mind. “I’ve got to call Angie to let her know everything’s okay.” He disappeared through the arch, leaving Chad alone in the comfortable den.
For the first time in two days, Chad felt a glimmer of optimism. His cousin’s suggestion gave him a direction, one that might re-establish him in Sabina’s eyes. The idea wasn’t a bad business move, either. The only drawback was the time he needed to get things in place.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Three weeks of sleeplessness had deteriorated Sabina’s driving skills. After discovering herself on the berm the third time in ten minutes, she realized she was nearly asleep at the wheel. A sign ahead advertised “Home Cooking,” and in spite of past experience with the hopeful words, she pulled into the gravel parking lot. At least the building looked clean.
She needed quick energy. “A hot fudge sundae and black coffee, please,” she told the waitress. Two other tables were occupied, one by a suited man filling in blanks on what looked like a call report, the other by two men wearing flannel shirts and billed hats.
The thumps of the coffee mug and footed glass dish on the counter drew her away from her inspection of the other customers. “Here you go,” the girl announced with enthusiasm. Free for a moment, the waitress crossed the room to join the two men. “What’s new, guys?”
“Not much, Tammy. Not much at all. I ain’t in jail, so something must be right. Still got my job, too.”
The other worker laughed heartily. “Just be glad you’re not workin’ for Calico. I hear some honcho from Spain’s buyin’ it.”
“I don’t hold with all these foreigners comin’ in. Some Japanese guy bought out Jimmie Gilbert last month. At least no one got fired, but that still ain’t good.” He removed his cap and settled it more squarely on his head.
“The foreign guys tip real good,” said the waitress.
Junior laughed again. “Sure. Then they take their profits home with ‘em. Can’t figure why Chad’s thinkin’ a’ sellin’. They done real good last year. ‘Sides, it ain’t really his.”
Sabina realized she was only twenty miles from Chad. She’d been at a site near the Pennsylvania border, and had lost track of her location. Hearing the familiar names gave her a pang. Poor Erica. Chad must have refused to give her a chance.
“No, but what he says pretty much goes. Sorry to hear it. Calico’s a sweet little outfit.” The waitress got a dreamy look on her face as she spoke.
“Think Chad’ll hang around here more if he sells, Tammy?”
The girl rose, laughing. “Don’t I wish! Sellin’ out won’t change that any.”
“I hear he had a set to with the state inspector some time back,” the first speaker interjected. “The fellas had to cancel their bets. Seems no one could figure out if the Tough Broad left because Chad sent her off or because they argued to a draw.”
Mention of the wagers sent Sabina toward the cash register remembering the old saying about eavesdroppers hearing nothing to their credit.
The conversation haunted her during the rest of the trip to her home office, where Nancy, the receptionist, teased her about coming in at closing time. “What’s the matter, don’t you have a home?”
“I’m just in no hurry to get there. Spring always makes me a little blue,” she said, realizing she’d spoken the truth.
“Come shopping with me tonight. Marshall Field’s is having a sale, which is enough to cheer up anybody. That lacy underwear you like is marked down. Something new and daring should lift your spirits.” Nancy winked broadly.
The receptionist was one of the few women friends Sabina had made in Columbus. They shared a love for swimming, and occasionally met at the health club to turn their weekly laps into races. “Sounds good. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” She crossed the room toward the cubicle which afforded her a minimum of privacy.
Nancy’s voice followed her. “News flash on one of your favorites, Sabina. McDonald called this morning to hustle the rest of the paperwork. He’s selling out as soon as he knows the bottom line on his fines.”
“Who’d buy that mess!” Sabina stopped dead in the middle of the large communal room.
Nancy fumbled through the files on her desk. “The guy you did last March. Here it is. Chad Peters.” She waved the folder triumphantly.
“But he’s selling Calico.”
“Maybe he’s moving.”
Sabina’s head whirled. Why was he doing this? She’d just spent three weeks trying to convince herself she hated him. The jobless men. That must be why.
Chad’s purchase would, in the end, be not only charitable but extremely profitable. If the deal included all the mineral rights McDonald had contracted, future profits would more than cover the reclamation. Chad must have discovered she was justified in what she’d done. “So why haven’t I heard from him?” she asked herself.
Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. Telling Chad she was falling in love with him was the biggest lie of her life . . . she’d fallen early in the game. She’d known before he tricked her into being snowbound. The rat! She’d give anything to know what he was really up to with the mining companies.
* * * *
Late that evening she let herself into her dark apartment,
clutching the contents of her mailbox in her teeth. The results of her assault on Marshall Field’s spilled from her arms, and she had only two fingers free to turn the key.
The spill of light from the corner was a welcome sight. Ever since Chad had teased her about the lopsided shoe, she’d left the lamp on each morning to assure that a sign of life greeted her when she returned. The apartment seemed barren without his presence.
Only one item in her mail held any interest for her.
She eyed the tan envelope as if it might explode. Addressed in round, school-teacherish script, the return address and postmark were instantly recognizable. She knew Chad’s handwriting from his paperwork; this wasn’t from him. Her nerves skittered as she loosened the tape-sealed flap. Why would anyone send a over-sized envelope with a simple letter? A cream-colored cardboard rectangle and a folded circular fell to the floor as she slipped out the contents. She left them lie while she skipped to the signature on the single sheet. Erica.
The news was good. Daniel had Chad’s blessings for art school; Chad was keeping Calico for Erica. Why did the workers in the restaurant today talk as if Calico had been sold? No mention was made of Chad buying out McDonald.
The next paragraph noted mournfully that Chad was thinner and extremely short-tempered. Aunt Clara worried about him, and she sent her love. “Thought you’d get a kick out of the enclosed. Chad promised to do this dumb thing last January, and now the time has come he’s been trying to find a way to back out, so I reminded him this would be a great way to meet rich chicks. We’ve decided he should get married, and he might as well grab someone with money. He’s a chauvinist, of course, and doesn’t know how to admit he’s wrong, but since he was such a pussycat about Daniel and me we’re hoping he’s mellowing.”
Be Mine Page 13