“Yes.”
“Well, when he finally woke up, he went to the other extreme and became smotheringly protective. I was only permitted to see the people he deemed acceptable. I could only accept the invitations he thought appropriate. Maybe that would have been okay, had his interference in my life stopped there, but it didn’t.
“He was so anxious for me to be happy, he wouldn’t let me do anything on my own merit for fear I would fail and be unhappy again.”
“Like what?” Sam asked, his hand tightening protectively on Nora’s.
“Like everything,” Nora replied wearily. “When he found out I wanted to go to Penn, he went behind my back and created an endowed scholarship there in my mother’s name, and then used his pull to get me admitted as a student there. When I found out about it a couple of years later, when another student asked me if I was any relation to that Kingsley, he said he had always wanted to establish a scholarship for my mother anyway.” Nora gestured in remembered frustration.
“Fine. I couldn’t really argue about that. I wanted my mother’s memory to be assured, but he admitted how it looked, and he promised me he wouldn’t do anything like that again.”
“But he did?” Sam guessed.
Nora nodded. “I told him I wanted to work in New York City after graduation, and that I’d targeted six major advertising agencies there as places to look for work. He went to the one that was number one on my list and then—without my knowledge or consent—got me a job at L and B by arranging to move his company’s advertising account there.” Nora shook her head and recounted miserably, “I can’t tell you how humiliated I felt when I found out via the company rumor mill.”
Sam sighed and commiserated gently. “Your colleagues must’ve resented you, if they thought you had gotten your job unfairly.”
“Yes, they did.” Nora spouted off emotionally, aware that her lower lip had started to quiver. “And furthermore, they had every right to do so!”
“What happened?”
Relieved to be finally spilling her guts to someone besides Geoff—who usually took her father’s side—about all of this, Nora shook her head. “I was tempted to leave, but I didn’t want to let my father take that from me, too, so I dug in my heels and stayed, and toiled night and day until I had proved myself worthy of the job I had secured.” She raked her hand through her hair, pushing it off her face. “And I kept right on proving it long after I had decided the world of high-stakes advertising and sixty-hour workweeks weren’t really for me. Meanwhile, my dream of home, family, children, seemed further and further out of reach.”
“Did your father sense your dissatisfaction with your life?”
“Of course.” Feeling she had to move or she’d die, Nora pushed away from the truck.
Sam circled around to join her on the snow-covered sidewalk. “What did he say about it?”
Nora pulled her mittens out of her pockets and inched them on. “He wanted me to come home to Pittsburgh and work with him in the family business.”
“But you refused,” Sam guessed.
Nora picked up a handful of snow and patted it into a ball. “Right up until I got downsized out of my job at the advertising agency. That came as such a shock to me, even though I wasn’t the only up-and-coming young exec who got the ax, that I finally did go home.”
“And then what happened?”
“What I had feared all along. My father insinuated himself in my life again, big-time. Of course, everything was done behind my back,” Nora said as she took aim at a nearby tree, hurled the snowball and watched it splatter into a thousand tiny flakes. She whirled to face Sam. “But when I found out how far he would still go to ensure my well-being, I knew I had to get out of there before I drowned in his good intentions.
“That’s why you left?” Sam regarded her speculatively. “Because your dad tried to help you and make you happy?”
Nora flushed with embarrassment, thinking about the dowry that had been paid for her hand in marriage. She still couldn’t believe her father had thought he had to buy her a husband! Like she wasn’t pretty enough or smart enough or successful enough to find one on her own! Like she couldn’t have married Geoff without his help! “Among other reasons, yes. It’s also why I’m not going back,” Nora replied stubbornly, knowing she had not made a mistake in leaving the way she had.
Sam studied her. “There must be more to it than that,” he said finally.
Nora picked up another handful of snow and gazed at the low gray clouds that blanketed the area as far as the eye could see.
“There probably was, knowing my dad,” Nora returned lightly. She shuddered to think what other well-intentioned scheming might have gone on behind her back. “But that’s not the issue right now, Sam.” Nora tossed off another snowball, with pleasing accuracy. “What I want to talk about right now is you and Kimberlee and the continuing dissension between you.”
He interrupted her in frustration. “I’m trying—”
Nora gently touched his arm. “I know you are, Sam. But it’s not enough just to try with a young girl her age. You need to find a way to work things out with her and get close to her again. Otherwise, she’s probably going to turn more and more to her boyfriend, Kenny, and that could be disastrous. Because you’re right—she probably is too young to be so wrapped up in him. So think about what I’ve said, Sam.”
Sam tipped his head down to hers and met her beseeching gaze with a tender one of his own. “I will,” he said, the angst draining out of him as swiftly as it had appeared. “And you do the same.” He touched the tip of her nose affectionately. “Because you need to make peace with your family, too.”
Nora knew Sam was right. She just didn’t know how or when, and until she figured out a way to get through to her father once and for all, she wasn’t going to do anything but try to repay the hospitality of the family who had so kindly taken her in during the storm that had paralyzed the entire East Coast of the United States.
So, while Sam went back to work keeping the streets of Clover Creek safe, she rolled up her sleeves and finished her analysis of the Whittakers Clothing and Department Store’s advertising, and came up with a list of ways to improve it.
“I noticed from the list of charge accounts that you have customers as far as fifty, sixty miles away from Clover Creek. In fact, some of your best customers come from Peach Creek, Maple wood and Madison,” Nora said as she sat down with the Whittakers to go over her findings.
It was late afternoon, and the temperature remained just above freezing. The latest weather report predicted another foot of snow or snow mixed with sleet that evening, but for the moment, there was no further precipitation. Just cloudy gray skies and a feeling of fore boding that hung in the brisk winter air.
Clara smiled with pride at Nora’s observation. “Some of our customers’ families have had accounts that go back to the store’s opening in 1906. And that’s not surprising, given that we’ve always tried to provide the absolute best service we could. For instance, I know Sue Ellen Pritchard, over in Accoville, simply adores Liz Claiborne, so whenever we get a new shipment in I give her a call first thing.”
“Whereas Jeremy Walker in Big Falls only likes Levi’s brand jeans, and he and his four growing boys go through them like crazy,” Harold added. “So I always make sure I have some on hand in their sizes.”
“Well, then, that might be the new focus of your advertising,” Nora said, as she paused to scribble a few notes on the yellow legal pad in front of her. “Not only does Whittakers have all the brands that people have come to know and love, but also specializes in highly personalized service.” Noting her idea had struck a positive chord with the Whittakers, Nora continued matter-of-factly, “I noticed you don’t have a catchy motto in any of your ads. You might want to commission a public relations firm to come up with one that people will remember. In addition, I think you might want to up your advertising budget considerably for the small news papers that serve the outlying towns, w
here you already have some customers and could build up a lot more, if they knew you were around. And then you could also add some radio advertising…with a catchy new jingle. And consider a getting-to-know-you type sale…where you send out flyers advertising twenty-five percent off any one item in the store, the idea being to get them in the store to see what you have. I think if customers see how much merchandise you carry on a regular basis, and experience firsthand how friendly and personalized the service at the store is, if they know you have much of the same merchandise they have in the malls in Charleston, only you’re a heck of a lot closer, then they’ll want to come back.”
“Won’t all this cost a lot of money?” Harold said, frowning.
Nora nodded. This was the difficult part of every negotiation. “It’ll cost some,” she agreed, “but once the initial outlay is made and everything is in place, I think you’ll reap the rewards of an expanded customer base. It’s up to you, of course, how much or how little you want to do.” She sat back in her chair. “I just urge you both to think about it.”
Clara and Harold exchanged a look.
“We’ll talk it over and let you know in a day or two what we decide,” Harold said.
Nora smiled, the satisfaction of a job well done flowing through her. She knew she had given Clara and Harold a lot to think about. “That’ll be fine.”
“SAM SHOULD HAVE been home by now,” Clara fretted several hours later, looking out the window. It was 7:00 p.m., and the table was set. A hearty beef stew was simmering on the stove, a pan of homemade biscuits was ready to be slid into the oven to bake. Kimberlee was upstairs, sulking with all her might. And a light, powdery snow was coming down, coating the just-cleaned town streets and sidewalks with a thin new layer of white.
“He’s probably just finishing some paper work,” Harold said soothingly, adding another log to the fire.
“You’re probably right. But with the majority of the minor roads outside of town still completely snowed over, it’s a worry. Especially if he’s responding to a call for help on one of them.”
Nora didn’t want to think about Sam being in jeopardy. And since his parents had lost their lives in a car accident in inclement weather, it was easy to understand why Clara and Harold were worried. “Why not use the shortwave radio to call Sam and see if he’s okay?” Nora asked, wanting to do something to take away their worry.
Clara continued pacing back and forth in front of the windows. “Sam doesn’t like us using the radio for personal reasons unless it’s an emergency. This would not constitute an emergency in his view.”
“I could walk over to the sheriff’s office and check on him that way,” Nora volunteered with a smile. “I was thinking about taking a walk anyway.”
“You’re sure?” Harold asked, sliding his glasses down his nose.
“Positive. It’s not far, and it’s such a pretty night.” Almost romantic. Plus, it’d give her a chance to clear her head, to brace herself for her next meeting with Sam. They hadn’t seen each other since their discussion about Kimberlee and she wanted to be with him again.
“All right,” Clara conceded.
“But if he’s not there,” Harold cautioned protectively, “you call us on the shortwave and I’ll come and get you.”
Nora bundled up and set off, noting once again how pretty Clover Creek looked, with its well-tended homes and street lights shedding pools of warm yellow light on the banks of pristine white snow. Smoke curled from nearly every chimney she passed and scented the air with a homey wood fragrance. There was a safe, almost bucolic atmosphere on the snow-covered streets, even after dark.
Nora understood why Clara and Harold had never wanted to leave, and why Sam had come back. The small rural town was a great place to raise a family, Nora thought as she headed for the sheriff’s office. Maybe one day Kimberlee would realize that, too.
When Nora approached the sheriff’s office, the lights were on, the door was unlocked, but once again, Sam was nowhere in sight. “Sam?” Nora called out.
When she got no response, Nora strode to the back of the building, past the bathrooms and the lone jail cell to the soda machine by the rear door. There was still no sign of anyone.
Nora returned to the front room and started for the shortwave radio, intending to call the Whittakers. Before she could set the channel to the frequency where they’d told her they could be reached, the shortwave radio box squawked. “Clover Creek sheriff, are you there?”
Figuring someone should answer what might possibly be a call for help, Nora sat down in front of the microphone and pressed the button that would allow her to reply. “This is the sheriff’s office in Clover Creek,” she said authoritatively, figuring that if it was urgent, she could always get ahold of Sam or someone else on the regular police radio frequency. She leaned closer to the microphone. “How may we help you?”
“This is the Bedford City, West Virginia, sheriff’s office. We’ve got a private investigator here from Round the Clock Investigations, looking for a runaway bride, Elanora Hart-Kingsley. We were wondering if you’d seen her.”
Chapter Nine
TALK ABOUT BEING in the right place at the right time! “I don’t know,” Nora said, deadpan. “Could you describe her and tell us what she’s done?” Besides take charge of the rest of her life?
“Well, we sent a fax of her before the storm hit. The missing woman’s name is Elanora Hart-Kingsley—”
“Right,” Nora said authoritatively, distressed to find the search for her picking up. “We got it.” And I destroyed it.
“Have you seen her?”
Well, that depends, Nora thought, on how often I look in the mirror.
Knowing some answer was needed in reply, she said finally, “No, but I’m on the lookout for anything or anyone suspicious.” Curious as to what her father and Geoff were telling people, she said, “Can you explain a little more about this woman and how she happens to be missing?”
“According to her family and the private investigator we’ve got here, she is broken hearted and confused….”
Now that, thought Nora, enraged, was absolutely not true. She might be hurt, but she knew exactly what she was doing, and why!
“In addition,” the Bedford City law officer said, “there seems to have been a bit of a family misunderstanding that prompted the young woman’s flight.”
That was an understatement and a half, Nora thought, incensed.
“Her father and her fiancé would like to find her and straighten things out.”
Nora glanced out the window and saw that the snow was picking up a little, as was the wind. “What have you done in terms of the search so far?” Nora asked coolly.
“Well, before the storm hit, we sent out wedding photos of Miss Kingsley to every law office in the state. We’ll be doing it again as soon as phone service is restored across the state.”
Nora struggled not to groan out loud. She kneaded the tense muscles in her neck. “Do you know when that will be?”
“Soon, we hope, but right now most of the rural areas are still without service.”
Thank heaven for small miracles, Nora thought, glad to have at least some good news.
“In the meantime, we’re concentrating our search in West Virginia,” the officer continued.
Uh-oh, Nora thought, as prickles of alarm slid down her spine. “What makes you think Miss Kingsley’s in West Virginia?” she asked, as innocently as possible.
There was some shuffling on the other end, and then the private investigator from Round The Clock Investigations got on the receiver. After he introduced himself, he went back to Nora’s question. “We’ve had reports from truckers. We put out flyers at all the truck stops before the storm hit. With people stranded, there isn’t much else to talk about, and a bride driving around in a wedding dress is a sight you don’t usually see.”
Tell me about it, Nora thought, recalling how mortified she’d been to discover she was stuck in her wedding dress—at least until th
e nimble-fingered Sam helped her out of it! “What about the state highway patrol?” Nora asked cautiously, doing her best to hide her frustration. “Have you notified them?” She needed to know what she was up against.
“Yes, ma’am. Miss Kingsley’s father has called literally everyone he can think of.”
Damn, Nora thought. And I thought I had a chance at remaining incognito for at least a week!
“He’s a powerful man, you know, with business interests all over the country. Anyway, you’ll let us know if you see her?”
“We’ll call you as soon as we have something to tell you,” Nora promised sagely. Which will be never.
The private investigator and the sheriff’s deputy both thanked her and then signed off. Finished, Nora cut the radio with a shaking hand. Dammit all, she should have known her father would not change his smothering ways. He probably still wanted her to marry Geoff!
She was really starting to like Clover Creek. And the Whittakers. And she really, really wanted to have a whirlwind love affair with Sam. But suddenly none of that mattered. With the detectives her father had hired closing in on her, she was going to have to stick with her original plan and get as far away as possible as soon as the storm broke.
SAM WALKED INTO THE OFFICE just as Nora pushed away from the table that held the shortwave radio. “What are you doing?” Sam asked as he shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the hook by the door.
Nora whirled to face him, her expression far too nonchalant to be believed. She swallowed nervously. “I was trying to radio your grandparents to tell them you weren’t here.”
Sam paused. He didn’t need a degree in criminal justice to know something was amiss here. “Trying to or did?” Sam asked, a lot more casually than he felt. Nora was not pulling something over on him. It was Susan who had betrayed him by going behind his back.
Nora blinked up at him, looking jittery and ill at ease. “What?”
“As I walked by the window, I thought I heard the shortwave radio going,” Sam repeated impatiently.
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