A Bride at Last (5 page)

He snapped open the paper, skimming the stories, not reading as much as measuring impact. All in all it was a clean, sharp-looking paper that had the potential to win an award this year at the Weekly Newspapers Association convention. It was one of his goals.

Instituting changes had been a struggle, but slowly the editors of all three papers were coming around.

He turned to the editorial section and was immediately confronted with a picture of the one who wasn’t.

Nadine Laidlaw.

Clint tilted his head, looking at the grainy picture on the top of her column. Her large eyes stared back at him, her full mouth unsmiling. The picture didn’t do her justice. He studied her face wondering as always why Nadine kept him at arm’s length. Just won’t fall for your irresistible charm, he thought, laughing lightly at his own egotism.

Grandma Laidlaw, however, was always kindness and consideration. And not above a little matchmaking, he thought wryly, remembering her machinations of Sunday. He was pleased to have such a strong ally in his corner, and hoped the time he’d spent with Nadine on Sunday had brought them a few steps closer.

He turned the page to “About Town,” giving it a cursory glance. But it was the usual. The name of a town councillor spotted at the golf course during one of the meetings, other well-known people and their goings-on. Local reporter Nadine Laidlaw spotted at the theater in Eastbar with…

“What?” Clint frowned, shaking the paper as if to bring the name into focus. “Who in the world is Trace Bennet?”

He suddenly realized he had spoken aloud, and quickly glanced through the open door to see if Sharlene had noticed. Thankfully, she wasn’t at her desk. He looked back at the paper and reread the piece. Was he a boyfriend?

And why was that name so familiar? Maybe Nadine had mentioned it when he’d met her the other day at the Derwin Inn. Thinking back, he remembered she had been evasive about who she’d been with.

He suddenly felt very foolish. She already had a boyfriend, and kept making it clear that she wasn’t interested in him. Yet he continued to try.

Sharlene was now at her desk. She looked up and smiled as Nadine walked in. “Hey, Nadine,” she heard her call out.

Clint couldn’t help the tingle of awareness as he heard Nadine’s name. He straightened as she entered the main office area and dropped her knapsack on the reception desk. Clint allowed himself a moment to look at her. She had an athletic build, which appealed to Clint far more than the slenderness of her
sisters. Her cheeks were ruddy from the morning air. Her thick, dark hair was pulled back into the ever-present ponytail he remembered so well. As usual, she wore pants.

“Let’s see the latest news from the bustling metropolis of Derwin,” Nadine said, her grinning face in profile to Clint.

Sharlene slapped a paper into Nadine’s outstretched hand, and she laid it out on the counter, eyeing the front page. She glanced Clint’s way and, holding up the paper, winked at him. “Nice shot, eh?”

He sauntered over, hands in the pockets of his dress pants holding back his suit coat. “Looks great, Nadine. Good job.”

Nadine smiled. “Thanks, my sartorial boss.” She turned her gaze back to the paper, flipping the pages just as he had done a few moments ago. Clint could tell by the way her soft brown eyes traveled over the pages that she was looking at them the way he had. Not reading, just checking for overall impression.

He watched her a moment, feeling almost sorry she had pulled her hair back into a ponytail again. Sunday, wearing a dress and with her hair hanging loose on her shoulders, she had looked softer, more approachable. Less the sassy reporter and more womanly.

He let his eyes travel over her face. She had a firm mouth offset by exotic-looking eyes that tilted upward at the corners, accented by narrow eyebrows.
Her striking features drew him again and again. He had been attracted to her from the beginning, yet was put off by her prickly manner. But somehow the intervening years had softened her features. Sorrow had granted her an air of vulnerability he was sure she was unaware of.

Nadine seemed to sense his gaze and looked up at him, their eyes meeting. Clint felt once again the spark of awareness he experienced each time their eyes met.

“Cute little piece in ‘About Town’ on your trip to Eastbar,” he gibed, needing to know about this boyfriend.

She frowned and turned to the section. As she read the piece he could tell to the second when her eyes hit her name. A flush shot to her hairline. She swallowed and, without looking at him, slapped the paper shut, caught her knapsack with her other hand and marched down the hallway.

Clint raised one eyebrow in surprise, his curiosity further aroused by Nadine’s reaction. Not typical of a woman in love, he thought, feeling a little better. Maybe all was not lost.

“You did this. I know you did,” Nadine hissed, shaking the paper in front of her friend’s face.

Donna rose and shut the door to her office. “Of course I did,” she said. “I know your grandma always reads that section. Doesn’t she?”

“But…the paper,” Nadine sputtered. “To put it in the newspaper…”

“Oh, c’mon. Most people know it’s idle gossip. But your grandma puts as much stock in it as anything she hears from the pulpit on Sunday. I knew if she read it, it would bolster your cause.” Donna walked over and patted her friend on the head. “Trust me. It’s for the best.”

She looked up at Donna and then back at the paper. “So what do I do?”

“Nothing, you ninny. Grandma will read it, believe what you told her, and then she’ll move out. Which I might remind you,” Donna said, her voice stern, “was the point of this whole exercise.”

“But she wants to meet this guy. I have to do something.”

“Just hope that this little piece in the paper will be enough. Send her on her way and tell her you’ll bring him up for Thanksgiving.” Donna sat back on her desk, her arms crossed. “Then, just before that, you break up with him. Easy as can be.”

“Easy for you to say, that is.” Nadine looked once more at the offending section, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe you did this.”

“Hey, I could have put in Clint Fletcher’s name.”

Nadine shot her a murderous look. “You dare.”

“Hey. You could do worse,” Donna said with a laugh. “Clint’s pretty easy on the eyes and whether you like to admit it or not, I think you agree.”

The problem was, she did agree. She agreed most wholeheartedly.

Nadine swatted Donna on the head with the paper and left.

Donna crouched down and filled the cubicle under Sharlene’s desk with the latest editions of the paper for walk-in customers. The door jangled and as she straightened, a tall, darkly handsome man stepped through the door. He wore denim jeans and a hunter green cable-knit sweater. He had wavy dark brown hair, and his gray eyes scanned the interior of the office almost hesitantly.

“Can I help you?” Donna asked, curious as to who he was.

He shrugged and slanted her a self-deprecating grin. “I’m actually looking for…” He paused a moment. “Nadine Laidlaw.”

“She’s in her office right now. Can I ask who wants to see her?”

“Trace Bennet.”

Donna felt her jaw drop. “Okay,” she said stupidly.

Then she thought, What am I going to tell Nadine? She caught sight of Clint in his office staring at them both, and she knew she had to do something.

“I’ll show you to her office.” She walked around the high, curved desk, caught Trace Bennet by the arm and literally dragged him down the hallway to Nadine’s tiny office. “This is a real surprise. I’m sure Nadine isn’t expecting you. She’s talked about you, but I’ve never met you and I’m sure she’s never met you…” Donna babbled. “I mean, she would like to meet you.” Or maybe not, she thought despairingly. What am I going to do? She’ll kill me
for sure. She stopped at Nadine’s office. Thankfully the door was open.

Nadine looked up from her desk, frowned at Donna and then at Mr. Bennet.

“Nadine,” Donna said, her voice falsely cheerful, “such an interesting coincidence.” She turned to the good-looking man. “This is, um…”

“What is going on?” Nadine asked, getting up from her desk. Trace stared at Nadine. He looked as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

Looks like it’s up to me, thought Donna. “Nadine, I’d like to introduce you to Trace Bennet.”

“Oh, dear,” Nadine whispered, looking as bewildered as Trace did. “What have I done?”

Trace took a breath and then smiled. “I’m a little confused here.”

“
You
are?” Nadine replied. “Please, sit down.”

“I think I had better check on some coffee.” Donna took a few steps backward, bumping into the door before she beat a hasty retreat.

Nadine sighed and looked once more at Trace Bennet. What coincidence had caused her to come up with this man’s name? This man who happened to be very good-looking and frighteningly real, now seated in a chair, smiling hesitantly at her?

“I have to apologize, Mr. Bennet…” She let the sentence drift off. Her usual interviewing skills disappeared.

“That’s okay.” He smiled and leaned forward. “I’m guessing it was a coincidence. I had to come to this office this morning, anyhow. When I noticed
my name and yours in the paper, I thought maybe I should talk to you.”

Nadine frowned at him, his name echoing from some other source in her mind. “What did you have to come to the office for?”

“I’m starting a new business and needed to talk to you, as the editor, about covering our opening day. I had sent you some information.”

Nadine looked at him, and suddenly it all fell into place. There’d been a letter. A new farm implement dealership. “That’s where I got the name.”

“Pardon me?” Trace frowned.

“The papers you sent me. I must have pulled your name from there. That night, when Grandma…” She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

“When Grandma…” he prompted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Nadine replied, feeling embarrassed. “It’s a long story and you’re a complete stranger who, unfortunately, got caught up in a bunch of lies. I’m very, very sorry.”

“No. Don’t be. Nothing bad came of it.” Trace smiled. “I’m really glad I came down to the office today.”

Just then the door opened and Donna bustled in carrying a tray bearing two steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of some broken cookies. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I had to rescue the bag from Wally.” She almost dropped the tray on the desk by Nadine and was about to execute another hasty exit when Nadine reached over and caught her friend by the arm.

“You’ve already met Donna, but I bet she didn’t tell you that she was instrumental in this whole business.” Nadine forced a smile at her friend, squeezing her fingers on her arm.

“What?” Donna sputtered. “You’re the one who came up with the name.” Donna turned to Trace, pressing one hand against her chest. “Honest. I just worked with the raw material provided to me by my friend Nadine. What I did was just embroidery.”

Nadine let go, shaking her head at her friend’s duplicity. “I didn’t think you’d go and put it in the newspaper for everyone to read….”

“No. I put it in the newspaper for your grandma to read.” Donna turned to Nadine, an exasperated expression on her face. “That was the point, wasn’t it? To let Grandma know that you had a boyfriend so she would move out of your house and leave you alone?”

“Well, somehow it worked out that the whole county got to read that little tidbit, as well….”

“Excuse me, girls,” Trace interrupted with a laugh. “It’s really not a problem.”

“No?”
they both said at once, turning in unison to him.

“No. Not at all. I’m new in town.” He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I wanted to meet Nadine anyway.”

“That’s great,” Donna said, turning to Nadine. “Isn’t it, Nadine? Here’s your boyfriend. You bring him home to Grandma, tell her that you’ve found the man of your dreams.”

“Just a minute, Donna…” sputtered Nadine, seeing an instant need to take control of the situation. “Mr. Bennet is a complete stranger. He’s here to do business.” She shook her head, feeling overwhelmed. “I think I’ve had enough of your helpful schemes.”

Trace Bennet clasped his hands behind his head, looking perfectly at ease. “Why don’t you tell me the history of this little episode? I think it’s the least you can do,” he added in a teasing tone.

Nadine bit her lip, looking contritely at him. “If I had known…”

“I said it’s okay,” he said, grinning. “So I gather there’s a grandma in this sordid tale.”

Donna sat down beside him, more than ready to fill him in, Nadine could see.

“Donna, maybe you had better see if Sharlene needs any help out front?”

Donna frowned, then, taking the broad hint, stood up. With one more smile at Mr. Bennet.

“Anyhow, the story,” Nadine began again. “My grandma has been living with me for the past five years, ever since my mother got sick. I’ve always been very thankful for what she’s done, but she was never content to sit back and let other people live their lives. The problem is she won’t rest until her only single granddaughter, being me, is married or, at the least, settled down with a boyfriend.”

“Which was supposed to be me,” Trace said with a grin.

“Which was
supposed
to be a completely fictional
character,” Nadine said with emphasis. “Your name popped out one day when I found out she was inviting all kinds of single men over for supper.” Nadine lifted her hands in surrender. “I’d had enough and told her that I had a date that night and somehow, I guess from skimming over the material, your name came to mind. Donna ran with it and this is the result.”

Trace shook his head, his smile reassuring. “Believe me, I’m not one bit sorry that our names were linked in the newspaper. But now the next question is where do we go from here?”

“We break up, of course.” She had to put an end to this for Trace Bennet’s sake and her own.

Trace stroked his jaw with one hand, his eyes still on her. “But why? You need a boyfriend and I could use the help of someone who knows the people of this town. I don’t think we should end such a compatible match over such a little misunderstanding.” He smiled, a dimple winking back at her from beside his mouth.