His Small-Town Girl

by Arlene James

  “That’s enough!” Tyler ordered, but Charlotte quickly leaped to her feet and brushed past him.

  “Come on, Granddad, I need you to watch the front desk while I start dinner.”

  “Charlotte, don’t—” Tyler began.

  “No, really, it’s fine,” she told him, smiling to forestall further objection. “I’ll see you later?”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  Ducking her head, she hurried on by him, determined not to cry. It would be stupid to cry about Cassandra Aldrich’s petty cruelties, and she wouldn’t think of crying for any other reason. That would be beyond foolish.

  Catching Hap by the arm, she turned him away from the unpleasant scene. They made it around the corner before Hap grumbled, “Not a good thing, her showing up like that.”

  Not a good thing at all, Charlotte thought, but she said nothing. The lump in her throat would not permit it.

  She set about preparing the evening meal at once, but even as she worked, her thoughts were with Tyler and his sister. He would leave now. She knew it.

  She’d always known he would go away again, had expected every day to be his last with them. Somehow, though, she had not been prepared for her own disappointment.

  Tyler Aldrich, she realized suddenly, would leave a huge gaping hole in her life when he left.

  How that could be after so short a time, she simply did not know.

  Chapter Twelve

  “That was a nasty thing to do,” Tyler hissed.

  Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t tell me that Little Miss Lumberjack and Old Man Overalls are your new best friends.”

  “Those people have been very good to me.”

  “Well, duh.” She cast a spurious glance toward the rooms. “You can bet it isn’t every day they get an Aldrich in here.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Tyler vowed.

  “Right. Like you really believe that.”

  Suddenly weary, he dropped down onto the chaise again. Sniffing, Cassandra maneuvered herself in front of a lawn chair but didn’t sit. Tyler reflected glumly that this one outfit of Cassandra’s probably cost more than Charlotte’s entire wardrobe.

  “What do you want, Cassandra?”

  She folded her arms in that patented display of contempt. “I want you to do your job.”

  He sat back and crossed his legs. “That’s what I’ve been doing.”

  She lifted her eyebrows at the jeans he wore but stayed on topic. “Sure you have. That’s why no one’s heard from you in a week. What did you do, turn off your phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Typically juvenile.”

  He didn’t deny it. Why should he bother defending himself? Cassandra would never understand, and what difference did it make that the cell service was spotty at best?

  “Do you want to criticize, or do you want to tell me why you bothered to drive all this way?”

  Clearly, she hated to say what had brought her here. Whatever it was literally made her grit her teeth. In the end, though, she had no choice. One of their major suppliers had gotten hit by Immigration. They’d lost so much staff that they’d effectively been shut down.

  “We have to do something,” she insisted. “Quick. Or by next week we won’t be able to stock our shelves.”

  Tyler frowned. He should have anticipated something like this. The company policy forbade dealing with domestic producers who employed illegal immigrants, but realistically even lip service took a backseat to cost. “Who is it?”

  “Paxit.”

  Tyler’s frown deepened. It would have to be their largest supplier. By coincidence, the Paxit corporate offices were in Lewisville, Texas, on the far northern edge of the greater Dallas Metroplex.

  “What is the board recommending?”

  Cassandra snorted. “The board recommends pointing fingers and hanging each other out to dry, as usual. Shasta is threatening to sue someone, anyone. Preston blames you for continuing Father’s policies.”

  Tyler shook his head. “That’s novel. He usually blames me for making too many changes.”

  “You should have been there to handle this!” Cassandra accused, going from cynical to white-hot in the blink of an eye. She shared that trait with their late father. When all else failed, resort to anger. It didn’t help that this time she happened to be right. “Mother has taken to her bed, sure we’ll all be bankrupt in a week,” she added petulantly.

  Tyler sighed. While their father had resorted to towering rage, Amanda Aldrich routinely broke down in weeping self-pity punctuated with threats of impending “nervous breakdowns,” which the family tended to ignore, as her husband had done.

  “I’ve talked to Spencer-Hatten,” Cassandra announced, lifting her chin defiantly. “The price is steep, and there’s no time to relabel, but at least we could keep the shelves filled with SH goods.”

  “Except that the board won’t go along with that,” Tyler said flatly, “because Spencer-Hatten will demand a seat, and the next thing we know they’ll own us.”

  Her chin went up another notch. “You don’t know that.”

  He did know it, and so did Cassandra, but she’d rather see him fail than preserve the family business. No doubt she’d cut some sort of personal deal with Spencer-Hatten. He expected nothing less.

  Tyler sighed inwardly. He had been foolish and self-indulgent. Perhaps he could have justified staying over the weekend, but what excuse did he have for remaining throughout the week? The time had come to return to his life.

  The thought depressed him, but he had a job to do, the job for which he had been bred and groomed his entire life. He would be better at that job now; he had no doubt. Although at the moment he didn’t have the faintest notion how he would solve this problem, he knew that he would find a way.

  The prayer that had whispered through his mind last night came to him again. Make me a man You are proud to call Your own. He intentionally added another line. Guide me in this.

  Tilting back his head, he looked up at his sister. Her cold, steely beauty, underlaid with the bitterness of resentment, cut his heart like a knife. Suddenly he longed to take her in his arms and tell her that all would be well. It’s what Holt or Ryan would have done for their sister. His sister would probably come out swinging if he did such a thing, provided the shock didn’t kill her first.

  Sorrow draped him like a shroud. He pushed it aside and rose to his feet. “Go home, Cassandra. Tell the board we’ll be meeting for lunch tomorrow. Then call the caterer.”

  Her eyes and lips narrowed cynically. “Haute cuisine won’t get you out of this one, little brother.”

  God will, he thought, if I ask Him. And he intended to do just that. Charlotte would show him how. It might be the very last thing they would ever do together, but what could be more fitting?

  Cassandra pivoted on her very narrow heel and sauntered away without another word. Tyler stood where she’d left him, head bowed, until he heard a door close and the car drive away. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, he went in search of Charlotte. As expected, he found her in the kitchen, a knife in hand as she sliced carrots.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Cassandra was out of line. She usually is.”

  Charlotte shook her head, her bright braid swinging between her shoulder blades. He’d never told her how much he liked her hair loose. He never would now. What possible purpose could it serve except to make leaving all the more difficult?

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’d never let anything like a little nickname offend me.”

  “I know you wouldn’t, but she intended to offend.”

  Charlotte turned a smile in his direction, such softness in her eyes that his heart broke. “That’s not your fault.”

  He couldn’t look into those lovely eyes any longer. It hurt too much, as did what he had to say next. “I’ll be leaving early in the morning.”

  She turned away, her hands still on the cutting board. “Not tonight?” she as
ked after a moment.

  One more night, he thought. One more dinner. One more moment of ease and light. Not so easy now, not so light. Still, he would stay. For one more night.

  “Tomorrow,” he confirmed, “early. Tonight after dinner I’d appreciate it if you would pray with me.”

  He heard a clunk just before she whirled and came into his arms. Closing his eyes, he held her tight for a long, sweet moment.

  “I wish it could be different,” she whispered, “but you know it can’t.”

  Ty swallowed. “I know. You have to stay in Eden.”

  “And you must return to your responsibilities,” she said, pulling away to dab at her eyes. Now that the truth had been laid bare, they would pretend no longer. “We had fun, didn’t we?”

  He nodded but could not speak. She turned back to the cutting board.

  “Would you set the table, please? The good china, I think.” She shot him a bright smile that cut him to ribbons. “We’ll end as we began.”

  It was all he could do to lift down the plates, one by one, without shattering his composure, if nothing else.

  Dinner became a family affair. Hap must have called Ryan and Holt, the latter of whom dragged in filthy from a day in the field and spent long minutes washing until Charlotte deemed him clean enough to sit at her table.

  Conversation could only be described as lively, if slightly forced. Everyone laughed and joked and talked at the same time. No one inquired about Cassandra or mentioned that Tyler would be leaving, and for that he silently thanked them.

  After the meal, Hap’s cronies began arriving, and Holt got up to take himself off home. He gave Tyler a hearty handshake and patted Charlotte’s shoulder consolingly as he went out the door. Ryan hung around long enough to have a private word with Tyler.

  “How often you reckon you’ll be getting back up this way?”

  Tyler had been beating himself with that question all evening. He could come every now and again, surely, but to what purpose? Why make himself and Charlotte miserable by projecting hope where none existed? Sick at heart, he could only say that he didn’t know when he’d be back their way.

  Ryan looked disappointed by that, but then he smiled and said, “Guess it’s something else to pray about.”

  “Yes, it is,” Tyler agreed solemnly, “and I’d appreciate it if you’d do just that.”

  “I absolutely will,” Ryan said, grasping Ty’s hand warmly. “Just know that whenever you come back, you’ll be welcome.”

  Ty had to clear his throat. “Thank you, Ryan.”

  With a wary look in Charlotte’s direction, Ryan left to attend one of his usual school functions. By that time Hap had migrated to the lobby for his usual game of dominoes. Tyler insisted on helping Charlotte finish cleaning up.

  They worked in silence, broken only by the clink of dishes and the creak of cabinet doors. Eventually nothing remained to do. Charlotte removed her apron and looked at him.

  “You said you wanted to pray.”

  Tyler wondered if he could manage that now, and he felt a little foolish for even bringing it up. “Oh, that. It’s a business thing. I shouldn’t have bothered you with it.”

  Ignoring that, she led him back to the table. They sat down again and linked hands. He explained the situation. Her prayer surprised him. She asked for wisdom for him in figuring out how to deal with the matter, but then she asked God to give him wisdom in dealing with his family, especially his sister.

  “Just help them show each other how important they are to one another.”

  She squeezed his hand then, but she’d given him so much to think about that his mind whirled. He could barely form a sentence. Finally he came up with, “I guess that’s it in a nutshell, God. I need wisdom to deal with all of this, and I don’t think I even realized that until now, so maybe we’ve made a start. Thank You for that. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Charlotte whispered.

  They lifted their heads just as laughter exploded from the front room.

  Charlotte rose, saying, “I don’t know about you, but I think I need a little of that. Want to join me? Hap will understand if you’d rather not, but I know that the others would like to see you again.”

  One last time, she meant. One last time. Ty would rather have done anything than walk into that room and say his goodbyes—anything except walk through the door without saying them.

  Joining the others turned out to be a wise decision. Hap, Teddy, Grover and Justus routinely kept each other and everyone around them in stitches, and they seemed especially jovial and clever that night. Tyler took their ribbing good-naturedly, knowing it for a sign of affection, and sat in for occasional hands while one or the other of them excused himself.

  Eventually the game broke up. Grover left first, but not before giving Ty a personal farewell.

  “We’ll miss you, son. Have a safe trip and don’t be a stranger now, you hear? I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “None of that now. You’re all but family here.”

  More than family by Aldrich standards, Tyler reflected morosely. “Again, I thank you.”

  Teddy and Justus settled for handshakes and silent nods. As soon as they’d gone, Hap immediately attempted to make himself scarce, but Tyler wasn’t about to let him get away with that. Clapping a hand on the old man’s shoulder, he laughingly declared, “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  Hap grimaced and hitched himself around. “I always hate goodbyes.”

  Tyler hated this one, but he gamely stuck out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure. One I’ll never forget. Grover said I was the next thing to family, but you’ve made me feel more like family than anyone else ever has. I needed that.”

  “Shucks, son,” Hap said in a voice even rougher than usual. “If you’re gonna do a thing, do it right.” With that he engulfed Ty in a hug.

  Clasping the old man carefully, Tyler felt his eyes mist. This was what a godly man should be, he thought.

  Lord, make me a man You are proud to call Your own.

  After delivering a bristly kiss to Tyler’s cheek, Hap turned away, his stiff, shuffling steps carrying him into the apartment.

  Tyler could not remember ever being kissed by another man, and suddenly he mourned the loss. What he would have given as a child for such a simple thing as that from his father. This time in Eden just seemed chock-full of surprising treasures, and the main one stood behind him.

  He puffed out a breath and, when it could not be put off any longer, turned to Charlotte. She stood with her arms wrapped tightly about her middle, a clear warning that he heeded.

  “I’ll be heading out early,” he said, “before daylight, even. I have an important lunch meeting, and I need to prepare.”

  She nodded. “You’ll be careful going home? You won’t drive too fast?”

  Home? he thought. Funny, this place seemed more like home now than Dallas did, but he nodded.

  “I guess this is goodbye, then,” she said softly.

  Again he nodded, but long seconds ticked by and still his feet did not move toward the door. “Charlotte,” he began, surprising himself by moving forward rather than away. “I truly wish—”

  She interrupted by simply stepping into his arms. “What is, is, Ty.” She lifted her head, her eyes swimming with tears. “I’m glad to have known you, Tyler Aldrich. I’ll be praying for you.”

  “I’m counting on that,” he told her in a choked voice, then he got out of there before he did something stupid and they both broke down.

  As he walked away, he told himself that it was time he started talking to God on a regular basis, and since there was no time like the present, he looked up at the black sky, whispering, “Lord, take care of her. Take care of them all. I know You will. They’re good folks and they love You.”

  He’d learned a little something about that himself.

  Charlotte passed a sleepless night, alternately praying and wondering if Tyler slept. Did he want to go back to his ol
d life? she asked herself. Of course he did. Otherwise, he would not do it. Would he?

  At other times she wondered if she might be wrong about God’s will for her, but how could that be? Her family needed her, and she needed them. She remembered how very, very sure she had been before, when Jerry had insisted that the job waiting for him in Tulsa was their future.

  “Your future,” she had told him firmly. “Mine is here.”

  And it had been. It still was. It must be.

  Besides, Tyler had not actually asked her to go with him. Surely he would have if he wanted that. Yet his going felt terribly like abandonment. She prayed for acceptance, remembering her happy life before Tyler Aldrich had found himself out of gas in Eden.

  She would find that contentment again. Surely she would.

  Long before daylight, Charlotte had her fill of these restless thoughts. Finally, she rose from her bed to throw on her robe and pad quietly into the kitchen to make up a pot of coffee. She worked in the dark, lest she awaken Hap. About halfway through the brewing process, she recognized the throaty rumble of Ty’s car engine.

  The sound drew her to open the kitchen door, but then she stood behind the screen to watch the sleek automobile back out of the covered space where it had spent the majority of the past week. Could it really be a mere week since she had first laid eyes on the man from Big D?

  Only the screen and the dark stood between her and one final farewell. The car rolled forward, coming to rest just outside, not a dozen yards between them. Her hand reached out to push open the screen—but, no. If she went out there now, things might be said that shouldn’t be.

  The car rolled forward once more, a fortune on wheels, another world on wheels. She watched the turn signal blink, then the car swung out onto the highway heading south. In moments it had disappeared as if it had never existed.

  Wiping her tears from her cheeks with the sleeve of her robe, she closed the door on this short but surprisingly poignant chapter in her life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The solution came to Tyler as he crossed the Red River. One moment he was asking God to help him do what he knew he must, and the next moment the dilemma that pulled him back to Dallas had been reduced to a plan of action. He couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t thought of it at once.