A Bride at Last (14 page)

Nadine sagged in relief. “Thank goodness you’re still up, Grandma. It’s Nadine.”

“Nadine?…are you?” Crackling static broke into the conversation.

“I’m close to the lake.” Nadine clutched the phone with one hand, her thin jacket with the other. The wind was picking up, and already her ears were getting cold. “Trace dropped me off somewhere in the country.”

“Where?”

“I’m not sure.” Nadine almost screamed the words, panicking as she looked around for any kind of landmark. “I’m at least half an hour’s drive out of town.”

“Which—” her words were drowned in a roar of static “—direction?”

“West. We drove west out of town, then he turned north.” The static crackled louder. She turned back the way she had come to see if the reception got any better.

She was now walking into the chilly north wind. Her fingers were getting numb and her ears ached. But at least the static had died down.

“Is there anything that you recognize?”

Nadine hunched her shoulders against the wind and turned a slow circle, fear clutching her heart. Then she saw it. “I see a gas flare. I’m exactly east of it.” Nadine relaxed somewhat. “Praise the Lord,” she shouted. “I know where I am—up the Fraser road. Can you come and get me?”

“Yes. Of course. Just stay where you are.” There was a moment’s pause. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Nadine replied, her voice unexpectedly shaky. “Yes, I am.”

“Okay. I’ll be…soon…” Grandma’s voice faded away and Nadine lowered the now-dark handset. The battery was dead.

She flipped it closed, dropped it into her pocket and turned her back to the wind. Nadine wrapped her coat closer around her, tucking her hands into
the wide sleeves. It was probably her least practical coat, a thin corduroy barn jacket she had picked up at a garage sale a few days ago because it was red.

Trace said she looked good in red. Trace, who was married.

Nadine sniffed, swallowed, determined not to cry. She felt cheap, humiliated and vulgar. She hadn’t known he had a wife, children. He hadn’t given her an inkling during their many conversations.

Nadine stopped walking, squeezing her eyes shut against the sting of tears.
Forgive me, Lord. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know.

Nadine looked up at the stars that spread away from her, feeling small, unimportant, disposable. She was walking along a dark, empty road, a tiny figure on a huge globe populated with many other tiny figures, each with their own sorrows and problems. What made her think her problems were so much worse than many others?

But then, even as she formed that thought, she knew that the same God who had created all of this from nothing also heard her prayers, whether softly whispered or shouted aloud.

And now, as she walked along the road, she prayed. As she prayed she felt God’s peace wash over her, comfort her, strengthen and forgive her.

But her hands were still cold.

She shoved her hands farther up her sleeves and walked quickly, hoping the movement would get her blood flowing and warm her up. Behind her the bitter wind pushed itself through the thin material of
her jacket, whipped her hair around her face and seeped into her bones.

Please, Lord, let Grandma’s car start. Please let her drive quickly. I’m cold. Really cold.
She shivered and pulled one hand out of her sleeve and pressed its meager warmth against one aching ear. After a while she traded and did it with the other. It helped a small amount, but her hands would not warm up.

Please, Lord. Let my grandmother come soon, before I can’t move anymore.

She had walked for a little way when a faint light shone above a rise in the road ahead of her. It got brighter and brighter and then, finally, headlights blinded her as a vehicle topped the rise and roared toward her.

Not Grandma, she thought with a sinking heart. Grandma’s little car had only one headlight and about half the horsepower. She paused, clutching her coat, waving her arm. She didn’t care who it was, she was going to ask if they could at least drive her somewhere warm.

But the car drove past her, then slowed and turned around. Hallelujah, she thought, turning her head to watch the car as it pulled up beside her. Nadine frowned as it stopped and the driver’s door opened. She couldn’t stop herself from taking a step back as a tall figure straightened.

Clint Fletcher.

Nadine felt shock slam through her. How did he
know? What had made him come at precisely that moment?

Nadine hesitated, her heart beginning a staccato rhythm, her feet suddenly unresponsive. “How…”

“Doesn’t matter.” Clint moved around the car and opened the door for her. She took a few shaky steps, then got in, her heart racing. Clint slammed the door shut behind her and walked around the car, momentarily illuminated by the headlights. He got in on his side, closed his door and Nadine was surrounded by blissful warmth, blessed heat.

“Are you okay?” Clint asked, turning to her. He draped one arm over the steering wheel, while the other lay along the back of her seat.

She couldn’t look at him, and only nodded. “My grandmother is coming….” She could hardly speak, her lips were so numb.

“Actually, she called me and asked me to come and get you.”

The thrum of the engine and the gentle hum of the heater were the only sounds in the dark intimacy of the car. Nadine bit her lip, trying to stop her erratic breathing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” There was concern in his deep voice.

Nadine nodded, shivering as she began to warm up. She laid her head back, felt Clint’s hand and sat up again. She swallowed, hardly knowing where to start. That Clint had come to get her, that he now sat beside her, concerned, caring, was more than she could comprehend.

His hand touched her head, curving around it, the warmth of his hand seeping through her hair making him very real.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Clint’s fingers tightened their hold momentarily.

“No. No, he didn’t”

“Good.”

Silence again.

Clint shifted his weight, and then his hands engulfed hers, warming them. “You’re freezing,” he said quietly, rubbing her hands with vigor. “How long have you been out here?”

“About an hour, maybe more.” She still couldn’t look at him, still trying to absorb what had happened, what was happening now.

“Trace just drop you off?”

She shook her head. “I could have gotten a ride back to town with him, but I didn’t think it was wise to stay around him anymore. He was quite…upset.”

“Upset? Why?” Clint rubbed harder, then stopped when Nadine winced. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing her hands between his large warm ones.

“He—” Nadine’s voice caught on that and then the words came tumbling out. “He’s married, Clint. He has two kids and a wife, named Tina. They’ve been separated for a while. He wants to file for a divorce.” Nadine turned to Clint, her fingers entangling with his. “I didn’t know anything about it. I couldn’t believe he would do that to her, to me….” She bit her lip, holding back the tears. She had said
she wasn’t going to cry over Trace’s duplicity, but it hurt.

Clint looked down, his thumbs caressing the backs of her hands.

“I broke up with him a few days ago, he came over tonight. He wanted me to come back,” Nadine continued.

Clint raised his head at that, his eyes narrowed. “You broke up with him?”

Nadine nodded, feeling foolish. “It wasn’t much of a relationship. I don’t think I really cared much for him.”

“Why not?”

Nadine could see the soft glow of his eyes, remembered the kiss he had given her, their conversation in the restaurant. He had come for her. Grandma had asked him to, but he still had come for her. She squeezed his hands as she took a deep breath and a chance. “I like someone else better.”

Clint’s thumbs slowed and he released her one hand, his coming up to lightly touch her cheek. “That’s good,” he said softly. Their eyes met in understanding and Nadine felt her breath slowly leaving her body. His fingers stilled and moved from her face to her neck.

“What are you doing?” she whispered inanely.

“Something I probably should have done years ago.” He slid his fingers around her neck as his eyes held hers. Mesmerized, she drifted toward him. He drew her closer and then, finally, oh finally, their lips touched.

Hesitantly at first, as if the intimacy was too much to absorb at once. Then his hand tightened, pulled her nearer, and fitted his mouth closer, his other arm coming around to pull her against the solid warmth of his chest.

Nadine’s eyes drifted shut, her hand slipped upward, across the breadth of his shoulder, around his neck. He was warm, solid, real.

She kissed him back, their lips moving carefully, exploring and discovering at the same time. This was where she should be. It was as if a mocking echo of her past had finally been stilled here, in Clint Fletcher’s arms.

She drew slightly back, her fingertips lightly touching his cheek.

His features became serious then as his fingers carefully explored her face. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m not beautiful,” she said, her lifelong insecurity around this man making her unable to absorb the reality of Clint Fletcher touching her, kissing her, telling her these wonderful things.

He bent over and stopped her words with his mouth. “You are beautiful,” he murmured against her lips. He kissed her again, making her insides melt with wonder. “I’ve always thought so.”

She placed her hands against his shoulders, giving herself some room, barely able to take what he was giving her. “But you went out with Sabrina. You used to flirt with Leslie….”

Clint smiled a crooked smile and traced her lips
with his thumb. “Once a reporter…” He let the sentence hang as he shook his head. “Okay, if we get this stuff out of the way, can I kiss you again?”

Nadine laid her head against the headrest, her hands enfolded in his, as she tried to let her mind catch up to reality. “I guess so,” she answered, her voice shaky.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her temple. “I always admired you, liked you, thought you were beautiful. But I was always a little afraid of your quick tongue and those penetrating brown eyes that look right into a man’s dark, black soul.”

Nadine frowned, her eyes traveling over his familiar features, his firm chin, his hazel eyes that now gazed intently at her. “I wasn’t like that,” she protested lamely.

“I didn’t mind, even though at times I resented the way you made me look at myself and my life. I went out with your sister because she was easy to be with. At first it was attraction. But later, as I got to know you, I came as much to have an excuse to see you and talk to you.” He drew her closer, laying her head against his shoulder. “I should have broken up with her sooner and I’m not proud of that part, but I liked your family so much. I liked coming over and talking to your father. I liked the way your family expressed their faith so easily, and I wanted a part of that.” He paused a moment, his thumb making lazy circles against her temple. “My mom used to take me to church once in a while, but God’s name was never spoken outside of that building.
Life just went on. Then I came here and started going out with Sabrina. I used to call, hoping you would answer and not Sabrina or Leslie, so I would have a chance to talk to you. You used to challenge me not only in my actions but in my faith. You made me realize that God was real and that we were accountable. You told me more than anyone ever did. Don’t you remember what we used to talk about?”

Nadine closed her eyes, her cheek pressed against Clint’s shirt, his warmth melding with hers. “I remember. I liked talking to you. I liked you. I could never figure out why Sabrina broke up with you.”

Clint’s thumb slowed and she felt his chest lift in a gentle sigh. “She didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her.”

Nadine stiffened in surprise, pulling away from him. “You did?”

“When I was in Europe, I knew I couldn’t stay with her. Then when I became a Christian I knew I had to be with you. I found out about your father too late. I wanted to be there for you. Then I came back and you were engaged to Jack.”

He spoke Jack’s name with a soft contempt that made Nadine smile. She let his words wrap themselves around her, a balm to her wounded and lonely soul.

“I’ve always cared about you, Nadine.” He pressed a kiss against her temple. “I found out too late that you broke up with Jack. Then your mother
was so sick. So I left you alone. And when I took over from Uncle Dory…”

“My mother had just died and all I did was snap at you.”

“I think I was always a little afraid of you.” He laughed. “Even when I saw you walking down this road, all alone, knowing you must be freezing, I wanted nothing more than to stop the car, run out and grab you, and I didn’t dare.”

Nadine smiled, trying to imagine the picture. “Why?”

“It’s your eyes, remember?” Clint laid his chin on her head, rubbing it slowly over her hair.

Nadine could only close her eyes and let herself be wooed by a voice she had so often longed would say the things he said.

“A lot of people knew that I envied my sisters a bit,” she said, her hand playing with a button on his coat. “And they were right.” She lifted her head and with a bemused expression touched his beloved features. “But only because of you, Clint. Only because of you.”

He shook his head lightly. “You never had to, Nadine.” He bent over and once again their lips met, their souls joined.

N
adine didn’t want to move, nestled in Clint’s embrace—a place she never thought she would end up when she left the apartment a few hours earlier. Clint reluctantly loosened his hold and though they parted, his hand still held on to hers.

“I should take you home,” Clint said with a smile as he tenderly brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Your grandmother will be worrying.”

“No, she won’t. The longer I’m gone, the happier she’ll be.”

“Why is that?” Clint looked puzzled.

Nadine tilted her head to one side, a bemused expression on her face. “My grandma, the eternal matchmaker, has been trying to get us together since you went out with Sabrina.”

He quirked his mouth into a crooked smile and touched her lips lightly with his fingers, tracing them almost reverently. “She’s a pretty smart lady.”

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled when we get back to the apartment.”

“Then we had better get back and make her life a little brighter.” Clint let his fingers linger on her face, then reluctantly dropped his hand to start the car.

Nadine sat back and watched him as he put the car in gear, glanced idly over his shoulder and spun the wheel with one hand to pull onto the road.

He glanced sidelong and as their eyes met, it was like a caress. Clint reached over and caught her hand in his own. Then he returned his attention to the road, leaving Nadine free to study him with a boldness she never had before.

His nose didn’t have the long narrowness generally associated with “handsome” men, his chin jutted out just a little, his lips were full, not thin and aristocratic. Taken all together they created a face that drew eyes back to him for a second look. And when he smiled, his aloof demeanor melted into a boyish appeal.

But even as Nadine analyzed his face, she knew. that his features were only the surface, a way of identifying Clint apart from other men. Beneath his handsome face lay what drew her to him, a man of faith in God, integrity and strong values. A man of substance.

He must have sensed her scrutiny, because he glanced her way, two small furrows creasing his forehead just above his nose like two parentheses. “What’s the matter?”

“Not a thing,” she said quietly, covering the hand that held hers with her other. “I’m so thankful you came for me. It was an answer to prayer.” She traced the back of his hand and impulsively raised it to her face. “Thanks again,” she said softly, pressing a kiss against it. His fingers curled against her face and Nadine winged a silent prayer of thanks heavenward.

Nadine wondered what it was going to be like to go to work tomorrow, knowing he would be there, just down the hall.

Tonight she had seen a part of him that still seemed unreal. It fit with what she had seen at other times—the evening in the restaurant, the day he had come to the Foodgrains Project. She had read his article from that day and seen yet another facet to his nature. His reserve hid depths that she looked forward to exploring. He was dependable, steady and true.

Clint slowed as he came to town, as if reluctant to bring other people into what was so new between them. He clutched Nadine’s hand a little harder. “First thing tomorrow morning I have to go to Calgary for a meeting, and then I’m supposed to fly to Toronto from there.” He turned to her, his eyes mirroring the regret that Nadine suddenly felt. “I won’t be in the office this week, but I hope to be back Thursday. Can I call you?”

Nadine nodded slowly, the very newness of their being together precluding anything else from her. She felt a keen disappointment that she dared not
express. Not yet. She had no intention of letting things move as quickly as she had with Trace, yet she had so hoped to have an opportunity to cement the fragility of their beginnings.

She wondered what God was trying to teach her with this. It didn’t seem fair.

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” he said, holding her hand. “I wish we could spend some ordinary time together.”

“I know” was all she said.

They drove on in silence as Nadine clung to the memory of what had happened tonight, hoping it would hold her through the week until Thursday.

When Clint dropped her off he declined a cup of tea with an exultant grandma. What had happened between them was too new and unformed, so when he left, all he did was touch her hand surreptitiously and send her a wink as he stepped into his car.

“So what do I do with this?” Allison stood in front of Nadine’s desk the next day, her hands holding the sheaf of notes she had taken the week before.

Nadine looked up at her, gathering her scattered thoughts.

“I’m supposed to get these into a coherent article by this afternoon?” Allison lifted her hand as if in surrender. “I thought you were going to write it up this weekend. I don’t have the background on this company that you do.”

“That’s why I asked you to write it up.” Nadine smiled absently at Allison as her intercom beeped.

“You’ve got a caller on line one.” Sharlene’s voice came in over the intercom.

“You’ll do just fine, Allison,” Nadine said, waving her away. “Now get to work. I’ll vet it for you once you’re done.” She punched the button and picked up the phone, effectively dismissing her new reporter.

Allison looked down at the notes again and then left.

“Hello,” Nadine said with a grin at Allison’s expression as she left. Nadine tucked the phone under one ear, cleaning up the papers on the desk and replacing them in a folder.

“Miss Laidlaw?”

“Yes.”

“I’m the lady who’s going to meet you Thursday.”

Nadine frowned, flipping over the pages of her desk calendar. Nothing was written down on Thursday. “Can I ask who is calling?”

“I’m the lady who wrote the letter.”

Nadine clutched the handset, her heart fluttering as it all came back. How could she have forgotten?

“Five o’clock work out for you?” the harsh voice continued.

“Yes,” Nadine assured her, pulling a pen and a pad toward her. “I’ll be there. How will I know you?”

“Like I said, I’ll be wearing a green sweatshirt and gray pants. I know what you look like. Just stay in the main gymnasium and I’ll find you.”

“Okay. Five o’clock, main gym. Gotcha.”

“No one else will know or be there?”

Nadine hesitated, wondering if she was getting set up. The lady sounded like a bit of a kook, but she didn’t dare offend her. She had waited too long to find out what this informer knew. “No one else will know.”

“Good. I’ll see you there.” And with that her mystery caller hung up.

Nadine laid the phone carefully in the cradle and, blowing out her breath, leaned back. There was altogether too much mystery surrounding this woman, and for a moment Nadine was tempted to let it all go.

But she knew she couldn’t. She had gladly passed off the accident article to Allison, but this she had to follow up on.

The day slipped by. Phone calls took more time than they should and it was late afternoon before Nadine had a chance to go over the layout once more with the typesetter, double-check the articles for errors. Their ad accounts were up, thanks to a hardworking sales staff. Nadine could justify taking a two-page spread for the Foodgrains Harvest.

She had already selected which pictures they were going to scan in and how much space they were going to take up on the page. Now it was a matter of going over Clint’s article one last time.

Clint’s style was straightforward. He hadn’t written many articles since he’d come here, but his professionalism showed in this one.

Clint wasn’t a passionate writer, but a deep conviction showed in how he presented the project. He had distilled an entire afternoon of interviews and observation into a thoughtful treatment of giving and sharing. In a diplomatic style he pointed out a responsibility to share wealth with those less fortunate, but to realize that as the sharing was done, the giver was only passing on what had been entrusted by God. It was written as a news article, but it had glimpses of challenge to the reader.

Nadine felt a deep satisfaction well up in her as she read Clint’s story. It had depth, it had a personal touch and it left the reader thinking. He presented his story in a way that made people stop and reassess their own lives and blessings.

She laid down the paper, her chin in her hand as she stared into space.

Was it possible that this articulate and careful man was the same person who had held her in his arms last night, had kissed her? She sighed as she thought of the days ahead, the office suddenly emptier with him gone, a space in her own life that had never been there before.

She often had to remind herself that he had come for her, that he had held her, kissed her. Without much effort she recalled their conversation in the inn. Their relationship had changed, had moved to a level she had dreamed of, but never dared see as reality.

She was seized with a loneliness that was even
harsher and deeper than before.

She missed him.

Clint waited while Sharlene patched him into Nadine’s office, feeling a moment’s apprehension. He felt as nervous as a teenager and had to remind himself that he was Nadine’s boss as well as…

He wasn’t sure what, exactly. He only knew that he had no intention of letting Nadine slip out of his hands again.

“Hello.” Nadine’s hesitant voice made him smile.

“Hi, this is your boss. I was wondering if you have some important school-board meeting to cover on Thursday night.”

“Wally’s doing that.” She sounded reserved.

“No volleyball games?”

“I’ve got Allison on them.”

Clint leaned his forehead against the cool window of his motel room. He wished he was back in Derwin, back in his office just down from Nadine’s. He wanted to hold her, remind himself that she had come willingly into his arms. He didn’t know where to begin with this girl who had had him tied up in knots for so many years. “Then you can spare some time for me?”

“Thursday night? This Thursday night? What time?”

“I thought I could pick you up at about six from your apartment.”

She was silent a moment, then said almost breathlessly,
“I’ll be meeting Allison at the gym before that, but that sounds okay.”

“Okay, then. I’ll call you once more, just to confirm.” Goodness, he thought, sounds as if you’re making hotel reservations.

And as he said his final farewells, sounding distinctly unloverlike, he thought that was what it had felt like.

He wished he could go back to Derwin right now, before Nadine changed her mind about him.

By Thursday afternoon Nadine was in such a dither, she couldn’t concentrate on her work. She didn’t know what to attribute which emotion to. Clint was taking her out that night and maybe they could start again. In a few hours she would, hopefully, find out the truth about her father. And after that…

She had committed herself to meeting this lady, yet she felt that she was betraying Clint.

You’re not going to do anything with it! she reminded herself. It’s just for information.

She tried to keep herself busy and her eyes off the clock, but it didn’t work. Finally at about fourthirty she gave up. She didn’t have to feel guilty about not working until five. Goodness knows she had spent enough overtime hours at the office.

She drove home, then showered and changed, her mind going back and forth between a loyalty to Clint, who wanted her to leave Skyline alone, and a need to find out what this lady knew.

Thankfully Grandma was gone, which meant she didn’t need to explain her actions. She hadn’t told Grandma about the mystery lady, just in case it turned out to be a hoax. Nadine didn’t want to disappoint her.

A number of teams were warming up by the time Nadine entered the foyer, the shrill sounds of whistles echoing through the gym. She stood in the doorway of one of the gyms, but didn’t spot a green sweatshirt. She wandered restlessly around the hallways, returning every few minutes to check.

Half an hour later Nadine’s stomach was in knots. It was 5:20. Clint hadn’t phoned before she left the office, so she assumed he would come to the house at six as they originally had planned. She tried to phone her grandmother, but there was no answer. From 5:15 on she had stayed in the main gym, thankful that no game was being played there. Allison was shooting pictures in the other gym.

At five-thirty she was pacing the hallway. She had maybe fifteen more minutes before she absolutely had to leave.

What if this was all a hoax? she wondered as she glanced at her watch. What if Skyline had deliberately planted this lady, was doing this just to sabotage her life?

Don’t be ridiculous, she chided herself. You’re getting paranoid because you’re feeling guilty.

She was wondering if she should leave a note. Where? How? “Dear lady in the green sweatshirt
and gray pants, I had to leave for an important date”? A date she’d been waiting for all her life.

Nadine almost laughed aloud. It was as if she had to choose between silencing the echoes of the past or grasping a hope for the future.

Nadine shook her head, glancing once more at her watch. Her stomach tightened as the hands moved steadily on to six o’clock.

Was she sabotaging a chance with Clint all for nothing? But no, she reminded herself. He had originally said six o’clock. Hopefully he would wait a little while.

She stepped back into the gym. She would make one more circle and then leave.

Right away Nadine saw a green sweatshirt. And gray pants. Her shoulders sagging in relief, she ran around the edge of the court and caught up to the slight female figure.

“Excuse me,” Nadine said, tapping her on the shoulder. “Were you looking for me? Nadine Laidlaw.”

The woman turned around. Slight, fair-haired, streaks of gray glinting at her temples. Her eyes seemed weary, her smile forced as she looked up at Nadine. “I thought that was you.” She shoved her hands into the kangaroo pocket of her hooded sweatshirt and indicated with her head that she wanted to talk outside.

Nadine followed her, trying to get her pounding heart to slow down. She’s just going to answer a few questions, nothing major, she thought. Don’t expect
too much. But Nadine had to wipe her sweaty palms off on her pants as they stepped out of the noisy foyer into the relative quiet of outside.