by Arlene James
* * *
“I think we should meet with the BCHS here at Chatam House,” Petra said, relieved that her voice did not betray the quivering that she felt inside as she followed Dale back to the sitting room of the suite. She didn’t really know what had happened there in the closet, but she knew it didn’t have anything to do with business, and that she desperately needed to put whatever was going on between her and Dale Bowen back on a firm business footing.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Dale replied after a moment, gazing straight ahead. “Chatam House is neutral ground, so to speak. But are you sure your aunts won’t mind with all the wedding preparations going on and everything?”
“I’ll okay it with them,” Petra answered, “but I think it will be fine. It’s not like they have to participate in the meeting.”
“I’ll call BCHS then and find out how quickly we can meet.”
“Good.”
“Meanwhile,” Dale said, coming to a halt beside the sawhorse table where they’d eaten earlier, “I’ll get with Jackie and explain how these other issues are to be handled. It’s mostly a matter of technique.” She watched him stack her papers and roll up the plans, his large, capable hands moving with a natural efficiency.
“Just how did you happen to learn all these historical techniques, anyway?” Petra asked, curious.
He shrugged. “My grandpa used to work on these old buildings around town, and I’ve always liked to know how to do things, so when he offered to teach me some of the old techniques, I was happy to learn. That spurred an interest in the old ways, which were, frankly, often superior to how we do things now, so when I got into college I made a study of it, but I’m still learning all the time. Now,” he said, finally looking at her again, “it’s my turn to ask a question.”
The odd moment seemed to have passed, so she nodded her head. “All right.”
“How did you get into hotel management?”
Petra mentally cringed. She hated for him to know how feckless she’d been to this point, but she didn’t want to lie to him. “I stumbled into it,” she finally admitted. “I was just looking for something to do with a business management degree and got hired on at Anderton. When I realized that Anderton’s business model is to buy old hotels of some historical significance and restore or upgrade them, I naturally thought of the Vail. I worked up a prospectus and proposed it. Garth eventually agreed then promoted me when the sale was completed and promised to make me the hotel manager when the renovations are finished. If I can somehow make them happen on time and under budget.”
Dale sucked in a deep breath. “I see. So both our futures are riding on this project.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, shocked. “How is your future dependent on this job?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine regardless,” he said with a wave of one hand. “Dad is the issue. Twice in the last three years, he’s worked himself into a state of exhaustion. I’m talking hospitalization. And it’s affected his heart. That’s why I decided against taking a second degree and came home to work in the family business. The doctor fears for his overall health if this continues, his heart in particular. Mom wants him to retire, and I agree that he should, but he’s not even sixty yet, and we have a cash flow problem. With this economy, who doesn’t? The hotel renovation could be the key to him being able to step back, for a while at least.”
Petra shook her head sorrowfully. “Dale, I had no idea.”
“Why would you?” he asked.
“You were considering an advanced degree program?” she asked, harking back to what he’d said earlier. “In what?”
“Archaeology.” He gave her a wry, lopsided grin and waved a hand around. “You think these building techniques are old!”
Before she could reply to that, his phone rang. He slipped it out of his back pocket and lifted it to his ear.
“This is Dale.” After listening a moment, he glanced at the front of the phone then put it back to his ear. “Mom, I’m sorry. I had no idea it had gotten so late.”
Petra glanced at her watch. “Good grief!”
“For pity’s sake, don’t wait on me,” Dale said into the phone. “Y’all go ahead and eat. I’ll get something in town. Thanks, Mom.” He ended the call and flapped his arms in consternation. “First lunch and now dinner!”
“I’m so sorry,” Petra apologized, appalled. “I didn’t mean to keep you so late!”
“Not your fault,” he protested. “I’m the one who insisted on showing you the rest of the suite.”
She shook her head. “No, no, I’ve taken nearly your whole day. The least I can do is see to it that you get a decent dinner. I’m sure my aunts would be pleased if you joined us, and I know there will be plenty of food.”
He shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t.”
“I promise Garth won’t be here,” she teased, “or my sister, so far as I know.”
Chuckling, he rubbed his chin, where a charming five o’clock shadow had bloomed, Petra realized. How could he look so handsome while in need of a shave?
“Well…” he hedged, “if you’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition…”
“Not at all,” she vowed.
He grinned. “In that case, why not? I confess I’m curious to see what Hilda has prepared.”
Delighted, Petra laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “I’ll run down and let the others know. Then I ought to have just enough time to change into more comfortable clothing.”
“I have to put away all this stuff and get myself together, too,” he told her, quickly moving to do that.
“Meet you on the landing in ten minutes,” she called, hurrying away. He flashed her a smile.
Halfway down the stairs, she realized what she’d done. So much for putting them back on a strictly business footing! But really, not inviting him to dinner would have been rude. First, she’d removed the man as the project construction supervisor, then she’d run to him every time she had a problem, which he routinely found ways to solve, and in the process, she’d ruined both his lunch and his dinner! Inviting him to stay was the least she could do.
She just wished that the day hadn’t been quite so pleasant. Why, the hours had flashed by like lightning! She hadn’t been on her guard, as she must always be with Garth, or felt that she was merely pretending to do a job for which she feared she was not truly qualified. She’d actually learned quite a lot today, and she was beginning to feel that she could actually pull this off. Besides all that, she and Dale worked well together. Too well, perhaps.
She reached the parlor to find Hypatia and Magnolia there.
“Hello, dear,” Hypatia said with a smile. “You’re running a bit late, aren’t you?”
Petra nodded, caught her breath and said, “Actually, I’ve been here for a while, going over some things with Dale, and I’m afraid I’ve kept him longer than I should have, so would it be all right if we set one more place for dinner tonight?”
The sisters traded glances before Hypatia answered, “For Dale, yes, of course.”
“I thought it would be okay since you invited him last time.”
“I’m so glad you like him,” Hypatia said, smiling brightly. “He’s such a nice young man.”
“Yes. Yes, he is,” Petra agreed, suddenly wary. Did everyone think that she liked him? Well, how could she not, really? He was nice. And attractive. And helpful. And exciting in a way she’d never found any other man to be. That didn’t mean she was getting romantic ideas, though. Did it? Gulping, she muttered, “I’d better run up and change now.”
Dashing back across the foyer, she hurried up the stairs and to her room, where she pulled out a casual pair of jeans and a pretty pink T-shirt trimmed with white lace. Quickly changing, she rushed to the mirror and applied her favorite pink lipstic
k then stood back to take a critical look at herself.
“Nice and slim,” he’d said with obvious approval.
She couldn’t prevent a spurt of delight at that, no more than she’d been able to when he’d said it in that matter-of-fact way of his earlier. Studying her hair next, she wondered if she should sweep it into a jaunty ponytail or leave it down. She tried to think if he’d ever shown a preference.
Suddenly, she realized what she was doing, and her eyes widened in horror. Oh, no. She couldn’t let herself think like this. If she started trying to please some man, she would lose her focus, and that would mean the sacrifice of all she’d strived so hard to achieve. No, no, she was a career woman. She couldn’t divide herself between romance and work! She was a fool to think of Dale Bowen as anything more than a means to an end.
And yet, she couldn’t be that cold and calculating. That wasn’t a Christian attitude. Oh, what was wrong with her? She had to get on top of these inconvenient feelings and keep her eyes on the prize. She almost had it within her grasp! Why, she could be manager of an Anderton hotel within months and part of the upper echelon of the company before she was even thirty! It was unheard of, would be an incredible achievement. She would come into her own at last, be a part of something important and impressive.
Besides, that had to be what God intended. He wouldn’t have let things come this far if she wasn’t on the right track. He wouldn’t have shown her the Vail, led her to Anderton, allowed her proposal to acquire the historic Buffalo Creek hotel to find favor and sail through the purchase with nary a hitch if He didn’t mean for her to be manager. Right?
She nodded at her image. Right. Okay, then. So she would mine Dale Bowen’s impressive expertise and enjoy his company while doing it, but that was as far as it would go. They’d both benefit, and when the hotel renovations were complete, they’d…what? Wave at each other around town? Until she went on to bigger things.
For the first time, that thought left her feeling hollow inside.
* * *
To Petra’s surprise, Dale talked a lot during dinner, starting with the blessing, which Hypatia again asked him to voice. He sat next to Petra this time, with Kent and Odelia across from them and Magnolia at the foot of the table opposite Hypatia at the head. Without Garth there to hog the limelight, Dale proved to be a delightful dinner guest. He seemed perfectly happy to listen to Odelia gush about her wedding plans and shared funny stories about Garrett with Magnolia, who treated their former gardener almost as if he were her son.
Garrett had spent several years in prison after beating his brutal stepfather, who later had murdered Garrett’s poor, abused mother. Magnolia had used all the influence of the Chatam family, and Asher’s excellent legal skills, to have Garrett pardoned so he need never fear violating parole. Happily married now with a stepson and thriving business, Garrett continued to be the apple of Magnolia’s shrewd eye.
“He’s a good man,” Dale said in reply to her praise of his friend.
“It takes one to know one,” Hypatia decreed.
Dale chuckled. “Thanks. I hope that’s true.”
Kent asked how Dale’s father was getting along. Though semi-retired, as a local pharmacist, Kent must have known when Walton Bowen had been hospitalized and why. Dale expressed some concern.
“The doctor’s warned him that he’s going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t learn to take it easy.”
“Hardworking man,” Kent intoned with a shake of his head.
“Yes, sir. He is that,” Dale agreed. “I try to take as much off him as he’ll allow, but he really needs to step back, at least for a time.”
“We’ll pray that happens,” Magnolia told him.
Dale glanced at Petra before saying, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“So,” Hypatia moved to change the subject yet again. “How is the hotel project going?”
Clearly, she asked this of Dale. Petra shifted uncomfortably. She hadn’t informed her aunts of the change in project management, telling herself they would be troubled about something out of their control. In truth, she couldn’t help a certain sense of shame for her part in the matter, though she really couldn’t have done anything but obey orders.
Dale, bless him, just smiled and said, “There have been a couple of hiccups, but that’s to be expected. Everything will work out fine.”
Petra telegraphed guilty gratitude with her eyes, and to her surprise, he reached across and patted her hand under the table, as if to say that he understood. The warmth of his touch radiated up her arm and settled in her heart. She fought the feeling for several long moments before Dale provided her with an opening to broach the subject of the arbitration meeting.
“We’re currently involved in a little disagreement with the Buffalo Creek Historical Society,” he said mildly.
“Oh, yes,” she interjected, leaning forward to address Hypatia. “I know that things are crazy right now, but would it be possible for us to meet with the BCHS here at Chatam House?”
“Of course, dear,” Hypatia answered immediately. “So long as it’s not the day of the wedding.”
“I hope it’s much sooner than that,” Dale said.
When Magnolia asked what the issues in question were, Dale answered succinctly then went on talking about the hotel, detailing some of the things that he loved best and enjoyed working on most here. For the first time, really, the hotel became more than a stepping stone along her career path for Petra. Dale spoke of it as if it were a living entity, full of grace and comfort and old wisdom. Rather like her aunts.
“They knew how to build to last back then,” he opined. “That’s what I want to do. Whatever I build, I want it to last the ages. I want some fellow, hundreds of years down the road, to say, ‘Wow, they really knew what they were doing, and look how they did it!’ He doesn’t even have to know my name. I just want him to see and appreciate what I built. Or rebuilt,” he added, and everyone laughed.
Petra felt a strange sense of pride in him at that moment, followed swiftly by a crushing self-doubt. What would her legacy be? she wondered. I helped build the Anderton hotel chain. I had a good job. Somehow, that just didn’t seem enough. Yet what else was there for her? What could there be?
Later, after Dale graciously turned down the offer of tea following the meal, Hypatia charged Petra with seeing out their dinner guest. She strolled side by side with him down one hall and then another to the door at the side of the house, exchanging pleasantries about the food. When they reached that bright yellow door, Dale naturally opened it, because that’s what any true gentleman would do. Charmed despite her modern, professional outlook, Petra hesitated. She had spent a long, eventful, oddly pleasant day in his company, but she had no intention of walking out onto the wide stoop beneath the porte cochere with him—until she did it.
As he pulled the door closed behind them, she finally faced the truth that everyone else had already seen. She liked Dale Bowen. A great deal. More than she’d ever liked any other man.
She could only hope that wouldn’t lead to trouble.
Chapter Six
They went to stand at the top of steps, softly illuminated by an electric light high overhead and a hot sliver of sun still scorching a dark blue velvet sky at the edge of the horizon.
“Man, it just does not cool off this time of year, does it?” Dale commented.
“And July’s a’coming,” she noted wistfully.
“Ever notice how cool and comfortable it is inside the hotel?” he asked, turning to face her. “All that marble holds a constant temperature. It helps with the cooling and heating costs, too.”
“It’s not cool upstairs,” she informed him, “except in the penthouse.”
“The penthouse unit is separate,” he explained. “We’ll get the others online as soon as th
e wiring’s done, and I’ll push the electrical contractors about that, I promise. Rather, I’ll see to it that Jackie pushes them.”
She knew who would be doing the pushing. Garth might think he’d removed Dale from the job, but she knew better. Jackie Hernandez had been right. Dale was Bowen & Bowen. She couldn’t help looking up into that strong, handsome face and feeling deep gratitude.
“Thank you for all your help, Dale.”
“Thank you for the dinner invitation,” he returned softly, and for a moment, just an instant, she wished that things could be different between them. But it wasn’t possible. Was it?
After a moment, he shifted, his gaze sliding away and back to her face. “Maybe I can return the favor sometime,” he suggested. “Saturday night, maybe? If you don’t already have plans.”
Taken off guard, she stumbled over a reply. “Oh. I—I don’t… That is, it wouldn’t be…” She shook her head. Wise. It wouldn’t be at all wise to go out to dinner with Dale Bowen, which made her sudden, fierce longing to do so utterly terrifying. “I can’t,” she finally managed.
He didn’t hide his disappointment. “Some other time then,” he said, making it as much a question as a statement.
She stood as still as humanly possible, a slight smile frozen in place, afraid to so much as breathe for fear she’d reply in the affirmative. Looking down, he rocked back on his heels. Then he turned and walked down those few steps. His boots crunched across the gravel of the driveway as he moved toward his truck.
“Good night.”
“G-good night,” she returned, starting to tremble.
As she watched him climb into the truck, back it out and drive away, she realized that Dale Bowen might well be the most dangerous thing in the world to her right now. If she was not very, very careful, he could lay waste to all her plans. Then where would she be? Who would she be?
And yet, she realized bleakly, she needed him back on the project. The sooner the better. She couldn’t go running off to him every time a problem cropped up; she needed him on-site as much as possible. Now if only she could somehow convince Garth of that fact—and protect her surprisingly vulnerable heart at the same time.
