Читать книгу Child of His Heart - Joan Kilby - Страница 8

EDNA THOMPSON, Gran’s oldest friend and Erin’s erstwhile piano teacher, was just leaving the bank. Erin held the heavy glass door open while Edna hobbled out, leaning heavily on her cane.

“Erin, how nice to see you.” She clasped Erin’s hand and beamed. “I was hoping I might run into you. Ruth has been looking forward to having you home to stay.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to see you, too,” Erin replied. She wasn’t surprised that news of her arrival had already spread through town. She would probably make the front page of the Hainesville Herald this week. “How have you been?”

“Well…” Mrs. Thompson paused only long enough to take a breath before launching into a recitation of her ailments. “My arthritis pains me something fierce. I have to go in for a cataract operation next week, and yesterday I had another gallbladder attack. This morning I woke up with a pain here.” She pointed to a spot on her right side, below her ribs. “But, I can’t complain,” she said with a cheerful smile. “No, I never complain. Goodbye for now, my dear.”

Erin smiled to herself and started through the open door. The bank was empty but for the tellers, who eyed her with obvious curiosity. A beautiful black woman she didn’t recognize stood at one window, while at the other lounged a pimply faced young man she was afraid she did. Could that possibly be Bobby Murchison, a boy she used to baby-sit?

“Bobby?” she said, moving across the carpeted lobby to the counter.

“Oh, hi, Erin.” He straightened anxiously, as though Erin might even now punish him for putting that garter snake in her tennis shoe so many years ago.

“I’ve come to see Mr. Haines. He’s expecting me.”

“I’ll tell him you’re here.” Bobby wove past a cluttered desk, a photocopier and a check-printing machine to knock on a corner office.

Erin smiled at the other woman. “Hi, I’m Erin.”

“Tracy.” She regarded Erin frankly. “So you’re the paragon I’ve been hearing about all week. Straight-A student, star athlete, girl most likely to succeed.” She grinned. “I don’t even know you and already I hate you.”

Erin grimaced. “People exaggerate.”

Tracy leaned over the counter, winked and in a low voice confided, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m looking forward to having another female around the place.” Then she spotted Erin’s crocodile-skin high heels. “Man, I love those shoes! Where’d you get those, girlfriend?”

Erin recognized a fellow devotee when she met one. “There’s this fabulous little shoe boutique in Seattle—”

Jonah Haines’s door opened, causing her to break off. He looked exactly as Erin remembered, like a big absentminded teddy bear. He wore a moss-green cardigan over a navy blue shirt with a clashing mustard yellow tie, and his brown suit pants were baggy and creased. Gray hair puffed above his ears on either side of his balding dome.

“Erin, my dear, wonderful to see you.” He peered at her over half glasses perched midway down his nose. “Come in.”

Erin followed him into his office and took the seat he indicated with a vague motion of his hand. Oil paintings of river scenes with herons and fishing boats decorated the walls. On his desk, hooks, fishing line and wisps of colored feathers were laid out on tattered blue felt.

He sat down heavily in his creaking leather swivel chair, picked up an unfinished fly and resumed tying a bright red feather to the hook. “I still remember the day you opened your first bank account. You were only five, and already so grown-up and responsible.”

Erin well remembered coming into the bank clutching her savings—$6.50. Her mother and father had died in a car crash a month earlier, and to take Erin’s mind off her loss, Gran and Granddad had given her chores to do around the house. They’d paid her for her efforts and encouraged her to deposit her pocket money.

“I was so proud of that little blue passbook,” she said, adding with a chuckle, “although later I regretted not keeping out a nickel for an ice cream. I certainly never thought that twenty-five years later I’d be in here applying for a job.”

“You were at City Bank in Seattle until recently, I understand. I always knew you’d amount to something.”

“I managed the Loans Department.” Erin opened her briefcase and handed him a copy of her résumé. “Before that I worked with a financial consulting firm in New York. Please feel free to contact any of my supervisors for a reference.”

Still holding the fishing fly in one hand, Mr. Haines glanced at her résumé. “You did a double major in business administration and economics. Impressive.” He regarded her over his glasses. “Hainesville will seem a bit of a backwater.”

“I’m sure you’re aware I came home to take care of my grandmother while she recuperates from her heart attack.” She paused. “I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Haines. My stay is unlikely to be permanent.”

Jonah Haines concentrated on winding the feather onto the hook with a length of fishing line. He tied a complicated knot, snipped off the loose end with a pair of scissors and set the hook aside. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t had a lot of applicants with your qualifications. Can you manage people? It’s important you be able to handle the bank in my…uh, absence.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem, sir. I supervised staff in my previous position.”

He picked up another fishing hook and a new bit of feather. “I can’t give you the kind of salary you were probably getting in Seattle.”

“I understand. What are you offering?” He named a figure not quite as low as she’d expected. “That’ll be fine.”

“Good. When can you start?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Excellent.” He shook her hand across the desk. Then he rose, clapped a fishing hat bristling with flies onto his head, grabbed the rod propped in a corner and walked her to the door. “I don’t want to rush you but I’ve an important meeting with the mayor.”

“Certainly.” Erin managed to keep a straight face. “Thank you very much.”

“Tracy, Bobby,” Mr. Haines said to the tellers. “This is Erin. She’ll be assistant manager, starting tomorrow. You’ll report to her in my absence.”

Tracy’s eyebrows lifted as she gave Erin a thumbs-up. Bobby gazed at her, his mouth parted in awe.

“Oh, Mr. Haines,” Tracy called as he made his way to the exit. “The roof sprang a leak in the back room when we had that big rainfall last week. When I turned on the computer this morning, there was a pffft sound and a puff of black smoke.”

Mr. Haines turned to Erin. “Sounds like the outlet blew. Can you take care of this?”

Her first executive decision, and a no-brainer. “No problem. Bobby, look up roofers in the phone book and make me a list of names and numbers. I know a good electrician in town. I’ll call Mike Gordon and ask him to get over here first thing in the morning.”

“Excellent.” Mr. Haines beamed at her as though she’d just solved the national debt. Then he glanced at his watch and hurried toward the door. “See you all tomorrow. Tracy, I know I can count on you to lock up.”

When he’d left, Tracy turned to Erin. “With the salmon derby coming up in a couple of weeks we hardly see the boss anymore. Thank goodness we’re going to have someone responsible around here.” She glanced at Erin’s shoes again and rubbed her hands together with glee. “Someone with style!”

Erin laughed. Becoming assistant manager of the Hainesville bank might not be one of her more challenging career moves, but she had a feeling she would enjoy working here. She leaned toward Tracy. “My sister Geena sent me the most beautiful Pashmina shawl….”

ABOUT AN HOUR NORTH of Seattle, Nick exited the highway and headed west toward Hainesville. The area looked a lot more inviting than the soggy gray landscape he’d seen during his visit last January. Now, in mid-August, the sky was a deep dreamy blue, and thistledown floated on a sultry breeze. He wound down the window and put his face into the wind, breathing deeply of the warm, humid air and the earthy scents of summer.

To his left was a small dairy farm with a barn and a silo and creamy Jersey cows dotting the green fields. To his right, thick stands of alder and birch hid the river from view. Closer to town, where the river broadened on its way to meet the ocean, assorted light marine industry lined the banks and fishing boats mingled with houseboats. One of those houseboats would be their home, and he was as excited as a kid at the prospect of living on the water.

Pretty soon the town itself came into view.

“Look, Miranda,” he said. “We’re here.”

She sat up and gazed out the window. “What a dump.”

Nick couldn’t have disagreed more. The streets were wide and lined with shade trees. The houses they’d passed were neat and well-cared-for, their lawns trimmed and the gardens bursting with color. Farming and fishing had clearly made for stable growth since the town’s inception a hundred years earlier. Nick felt as though his cares were dropping away as he cruised down Main Street, with its central grassy boulevard and diagonal parking on both sides. He admired the old stone buildings and turn-of-the-century wooden structures identifiable as the courthouse, library and museum. Benches set into the broad sidewalk every twenty paces or so seemed a deliberate invitation for citizens to slow down.

“They built to last in the old days, didn’t they?” Nick commented, stopping at a set of traffic lights. The only set of traffic lights, he realized, glancing ahead down the street.

Miranda glanced around. “I see a video store, but where’s the McDonald’s? Is this place for real?”

“Forget chain restaurants. I’ll bet there’s a coffee shop or a drive-in somewhere in town that serves the best burgers you’ve ever tasted.” The light changed and Nick continued slowly, watching for the realty office.

A woman coming out of the bank caught his eye. Elegantly slender, with shiny blond hair and a stylish suit, she walked with a grace that made her stand out among the moms in tracksuits, teenagers on skateboards and elderly men leaning on canes. Nick couldn’t help but turn his head as he passed, his elbow resting on the open window as though he were a teenager out cruising on a Saturday night. The woman must have felt his stare, for she slanted him a look. He smiled at her. Coolly, she nodded back. Once past, he checked her out in the rearview mirror. She was noticing his California plates.

“Da-a-ad. Hello. Isn’t that the realty office?”

“Huh? Oh, right.” Nick pulled into the curb and parked opposite the town clock in the middle of the boulevard. “Wait here,” he said to Miranda. “I should only be a minute.”

When he got out of the car, the blond woman paused to peer into a store window, her black briefcase held in both hands behind her back. Her gaze slid in his direction, but she saw him watching and focused on the window again.

The bell over the door of the realty office tinkled as he entered. A young woman with dark brown hair was standing behind a desk, talking on the phone. She saw him and held up a finger to indicate she’d only be a minute. “Yep. You got it, Mrs. Fontana. I’ll be out tomorrow with the contract. Thank you very much.”

She set down the phone and came out from behind her desk. “Hi, I’m Kelly Walker. You must be—”

“Nick Dalton. Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand. “Nice town you’ve got here.”

Her wide smile expressed delight. “Population 3,376—give or take a few—and I’m sure every one of us is looking forward to meeting you and your daughter. I know we’re grateful to have someone of your experience as our new fire chief. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”

“Thanks, but I’ll have to take a rain check. My daughter’s waiting in the car,” he explained. In spite of what he’d told Miranda, he was surprised to encounter such immediate friendliness and warmth. But he liked it very much. “We’ve had a long drive and the moving van’s not far behind,” he went on.

“Of course.” Kelly plucked a set of keys from a pegboard on the wall behind her desk and handed them over, along with a sheet of paper. “Your keys and a map of Hainesville. Hard to get lost around here, mind you. I’ve marked your houseboat,” she said, pointing to a spot on the map. “You’re going to love living on the river. It’s a really nice little community and there’s a launching place for your boat. Didn’t you say you had a boat?”

“Just a small runabout. I like to fish.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. If there’s anything more I can do, just holler.” She walked him to the door and right out onto the sidewalk. “Oh, there’s my sister.”

Kelly waved to the elegant blonde who’d caught his eye. The woman hesitated before slowly proceeding toward them. Nick scrubbed a hand through his short hair, wishing he’d had a shower and clean clothes and maybe a few hours’ sleep to erase the dark circles below his eyes.

Inside the Suburban, Miranda beeped the horn.

“I’ll let you go,” he said reluctantly to Kelly, and moved toward the vehicle. He didn’t want Miranda creating a scene on their very first day in town. “Thanks for everything.”

“What took you so long?” Miranda demanded when he’d got back inside and started the engine.

“Courtesy,” he replied shortly. “Something you could use a little of.” He sketched a wave to the two women standing on the sidewalk and drove off with the distinct impression they were talking about him.

Two blocks down he saw the concrete tower of the Hainesville Fire Department. A bright red-and-white fire engine was parked outside, wet and gleaming from a recent washing. Nick pulled in at the curb, ignoring Miranda’s groan at yet another stop. A young blond fireman wandered out from behind the engine, saw Nick and came over to the vehicle with a friendly smile. “Hi, there. Can I help you folks?”

Nick put a hand through the open window. “Nick Dalton, your new chief. Steve Randall, right?”

Steve wiped a damp hand on his regulation navy pants and shook. “Welcome to Hainesville, Chief. Sorry I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“That’s okay. We only met once. My daughter and I just arrived.” He glanced around at the silent street. “Slow day?”

Steve grinned. “No other kind around here.”

Miranda made a small noise of disgust.

“This is Miranda,” Nick said. “She’s looking forward to the peace and quiet of a small town.”

“Da-a-ad.”

Nick eased the truck into gear. “Guess I’d better be moving. The furniture van is right behind us.”

“I’ll stop by after work and give you a hand unloading,” Steve said.

“I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Steven informed him cheerfully. “I’ll bring over the casserole my mom made for you. She figured that on your first night here you wouldn’t be set up for cooking.”

“That’s really nice of her,” Nick said, taken aback at the kindness of a complete stranger. “I’ll see you later.”

He found River Road again and drove out the other side of town toward the marina where his houseboat was moored, his thoughts echoing Miranda’s earlier comment—was this place for real?

God, he hoped so.

BY THE END OF THE FOLLOWING week, Erin had familiarized herself with the bank’s corporate accounts and met many of the individuals who entrusted their money to the institution. She’d set herself up in the office next to Jonah Haines, put fresh flowers on her desk and hung one of her two Regulator clocks on the wall.

At 11:55 a.m. she closed the file on an application for a home loan and leaned back in her chair to stretch. Through her partly open door she could hear the quiet hum of voices as Tracy served a customer. Then the front door opened and closed as the person left. Silence. She glanced at the clock. Minutes seemed to tick by more slowly here in Hainesville.

Tracy’s voice, good-natured and strident, roused her. “Hey, Erin,” she called. “Sally Larkin over at the drugstore reckons our new fire chief wears boxer shorts. I say briefs. What do y’all think?”

Half scandalized, half amused, Erin rose to stand in the doorway. “Are you gawking at that poor man again?”

“Every chance I get,” Tracy said, blatantly unrepentant as she peered through the slats in the venetian blind at the front of the bank. “If I weren’t already engaged to the sweetest man west of the Rockies I’d be knocking on the front door of the luscious Mistah Dalton. I can’t believe he’s been here over a week and you haven’t met him yet.”

The truth was, Erin had deliberately avoided several opportunities to meet him. Although she was intrigued, he made her nervous. He was pure male energy, his sexuality restrained but undiminished by old-fashioned good manners. Her heart was already in traction; God knows what further damage a man like Nick Dalton could inflict.

“I’ve been busy catching up with Gran and Kelly. Not to mention the fact that I’ve just started a new job,” Erin protested. “If I meet him, I meet him. I’m not going to go out of my way to do so. Frankly, I’m a little sick of him already. Nick this, Nick that. He’s just a man.”

“Well, you’re the only one who thinks so.”

Tracy was telling the truth. Nick Dalton had every woman in town talking. Already it was common knowledge that the chief ordered pastrami on whole wheat for lunch at Rosa’s deli, took Mrs. Thompson’s arm to help her across the road and had left Los Angeles to get his twelve-year-old daughter away from bad company. Most important, as a widower in a small town with a limited number of attractive bachelors, he was single. And to the women of Hainesville, that meant available.

Which of course was irrelevant to Erin. Only a few weeks had passed since her breakup with John. The memory of their emotional last weekend together was still fresh in her mind. He hadn’t called her yet, but he would, if she just gave him some space. She owed it to herself to give him a chance to make things right.

“He’s heading this way,” Tracy announced. “Bet he’s goin’ on down to Rosa’s. Come quick, or you’ll miss him.”

Erin tucked a long strand of blond hair behind her ear and crossed her arms over her chest. “Ogling a man is demeaning,” she said severely. “You’re viewing him purely as a sex object.”

“Hoo boy, you got that right.” Tracy wiggled her behind in appreciation. “Hurry up, girl. Goin’, goin’…”

Erin glanced around. Bobby was chewing gum and checking out a new pimple in the reflection of the glass above his teller cage. Jonah Haines was in another “meeting” with Mayor Bob Gribble out on the river. The bank would be empty of customers for at least five minutes until the lunch rush. She shouldn’t be tempted to take a gander, but with all the hype, who could blame her?

To heck with it. There was no harm in a peek.

She lifted the hinged counter separating the tellers from the customers and joined Tracy at the window. Through the venetian blinds half closed against the sun she saw Nick Dalton strolling past in front of the bank.

With easy muscular grace, he threw an orange into the air and caught it in one hand, then repeated the motion. Beneath his crisp white short-sleeved shirt his biceps flexed, and when he tilted his head back, his near-black hair glinted auburn in the sun. Erin had glimpsed him working out on a set of weights in the recesses of the fire station. As she remembered his sweat-sheened muscles, her mouth lost some of its moisture.

Tracy nudged her in the ribs. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Just then, Nick turned his head toward the bank and caught Erin peering through the blinds. He grinned and tipped two fingers to his temple in a lively salute. Erin’s cheeks flamed. She slapped the slats shut and stepped away from the window, mortified.

“He’s probably got an ego the size of Texas,” she snapped.

“And you, girlfriend, are in denial if you think you’re not attracted.” Tracy’s grin spread wide. “What are you so worried about?”

Erin ignored her and strode back through the opening in the counter. “Did those roofers say when they’d be over?” she demanded of Bobby. “Mike fixed that outlet, but if those wires get wet again, they could short out and we could have a fire in here.”

Bobby straightened away from his reflection. “They said they’d try to get here this afternoon but couldn’t promise anything.”

“Call them again. If they’re busy, call someone else.”

Erin went into her office and shut the door. Damn Nick Dalton, grinning at her like that.

She slumped against the door and forced herself to acknowledge the truth. Since the day he’d breezed into town like a hot Santa Ana wind, his dark eyes and white grin had sparked feelings she wasn’t able to control while apart from John. As handsome and suave as John was, he’d never, even in the early days of their romance, made her feel so…so restless.

Erin paced the small room. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t one to avoid difficult situations, yet she was being held hostage, as it were, in her own town. She used to buy her lunch at Rosa’s until she’d found she was in danger of running into him there. Now when she saw him coming she crossed the street, entered a store, ducked into her car, anything to escape.

This couldn’t go on. She simply had to face the man, speak to him, reduce him to human proportions.

She grabbed her purse from her desk drawer and marched through the bank. “I’m going to lunch,” she announced to Tracy and Bobby.

“She’s going to Rosa’s to meet him,” Tracy crowed with delight.

“Looks to me like she’s getting ready for a showdown,” Bobby said.

Erin lifted her chin, refusing to dignify their remarks with a reply. “I’ll be back at one o’clock.”