Soldier's Homecoming (9781460341308)

Home > Other > Soldier's Homecoming (9781460341308) > Page 8
Soldier's Homecoming (9781460341308) Page 8

by Glaz, Linda S.


  “Why, of course not. It’s no problem at all. Is everything all right?”

  Joe held out his hand. “May I be of any help?”

  That would be wonderful, but no way would she put him out because she’d been a fool. “Thank you, but I think I’d better call my folks. I need a ride home and—”

  “I’d be happy to see you home.” His gaze slid over her head and landed on Wallace. “Victoria? Did he do anything? Say anything inappropriate?”

  “No. I’m fine now, if you really don’t mind, taking me home, that is.”

  “I’d be happy to.” He glanced again at Wallace, who stayed seated throughout the entire exchange only glancing from the corner of his eye. “But aren’t you with—”

  “Not any longer.” Not ever again. “I’m sorry to impose like this. But I’m afraid I’m not feeling well.”

  Carmen patted her hand. “Take him up on it, sweetie.” She leaned closer so only Victoria could hear. “He’s the better of the two. I know them both. You go on with Mr….Joe here. And I hope you feel better.”

  “I’ll do that.” Victoria reached for her coat, wondering how desperate she must seem to Joe. Did he think she’d planned to do this once she’d seen him? Well, she would clear that up right away. No more misunderstandings, not tonight.

  Wallace tipped an imaginary hat. She realized he had intended for this to be a date after all.

  Not on your life.

  Joe tensed at her side, but she put a hand on his arm. “Could we go—now?” She grasped his arm tighter, holding on to keep herself upright. The room swirled for a second, then stopped. “I’m afraid I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’m a little dizzy.”

  The waitress offered to fix her something right away, but Joe intervened. “Let’s get you home. Your mom will no doubt have supper waiting if she’s anything like mine was. And if not, we’ll raid your icebox.” He grinned, showing beautiful, straight white teeth. She hadn’t noticed before what a truly magnificent smile he had.

  Flutters rippled through her stomach.

  Chapter 6

  Victoria settled against the high-back chair in the kitchen and bit into her chicken salad sandwich. “Mmm. Grapes and pecans, my favorite, Mom. Thanks. I was hungrier than I thought.”

  Joe smiled at her hearty appetite.

  “Joseph, dear, how about you?” Her mother had a plate headed his direction.

  “Thank you for offering, Mrs. Banks, but a piece of cake will be plenty. I was finishing dinner as Victoria arrived at the Dusty Rose. However, I didn’t get my dessert and that cake smells wonderful. Can’t resist.” I can’t resist your daughter, either. Did I say that out loud? He glanced across the table at long blond hair pulled back with combs at the top of her head. Her hair had been lighter when they were younger; now it was a smidge darker with a hint of red in it. But those pale blue eyes sparkled at him over the top of her sandwich. Had there ever been a more beautiful girl? He sighed. She deserved better than a man who knew very little about women, just enough to stomp all over their feet.

  She deserved, at the very least, a man who made a decent living and could take care of her.

  He forced the feelings deeper into his gut where he could control them. No woman. Not now. Huntington Construction Company was the only thing that mattered. Eat the chocolate cake, accept the gratitude for the ride home and scoot out the door. With a tug at his collar, he accepted how difficult that was going to be.

  Eyes bright and full of warmth, Mrs. Banks grinned at him. “Dear boy, you were her knight in shining armor. You have all the cake you want. Whoever heard of a man asking a girl out and treating her like that?”

  Her words stuck in his throat. Victoria might have forgiven him, but had he forgiven himself?

  Without realizing what she’d said, Mrs. Banks cut into the chocolate fudge cake and plopped a generous piece on the plate in front of Joe. “Coffee to go with it? Or milk?”

  “Coffee. You’re very kind.”

  Victoria seemed to read his mind. “Joe, you are the one who’s kind. Talk about coming to the damsel’s rescue. I’m not sure what I’d have done if I had to spend one more second in Wallace Wysse’s company. If he hadn’t convinced me in the first place that he wanted to talk about Flo, I wouldn’t have gone with him. He never did discuss Flo. Such a boor.” She looked at her plate. “I’m sorry. I forgot he’s your boss.”

  “You’re right. He is a boor.” Hopefully Wallace would not be his boss for long. “And I’ll only be there as long as necessary.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  In spite of his not wanting to sound like a blabbermouth, she had a way of getting him to talk. “Since I returned stateside, I’ve been trying to get a loan from the bank to start my own company.”

  Victoria’s mother sat in the chair across from him. “I don’t believe we’ve ever asked. What do you do, Joseph? I mean, I know you work for Wysse and Sons. What, exactly, does that entail?”

  “Ma’am, I’m an engineer. Buildings. Overseas, I built temporary housing for the soldiers. I had thought, perhaps, with so many men returning, I could build small bungalows for the new families popping up all over.”

  Victoria looked up, curiosity washing her features. “Then why on earth are you working for the Wysse family? You should be working for yourself.”

  He didn’t want to sound like a whining baby or that he deserved special consideration because he was a returning soldier. And yet she was right. He was doing all the wrong things. “Well, I planned on that, but it seems Mr. Flannigan wants more than a man’s dreams and a handshake in order for him to justify a bank loan. I did explain that… Well, I don’t want to worry you ladies with my problems.”

  Footsteps came up behind him. “Then why not worry me with them.”

  Joe turned. “Sir?” He stood to his feet and extended his hand. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Banks.”

  “Make this the last time I ask you to call me Art.”

  Joe mock-saluted. “Yessir, Art.” He sat down and shifted his attention back to the huge wedge of chocolate cake Victoria’s mother had served. He downed a sip of his coffee before digging back in. This house, these people. They made him feel at home, feel as if he belonged when he hadn’t belonged anywhere in a long time.

  “Mother, could you pour me a cup of coffee and cut me another slice of cake, too?” Art asked his wife. “If you ladies will excuse us for talking shop a moment, I’d like to hear what Flannigan told you, Joseph.”

  Joe swallowed over the lump of cake in his throat. “I—uh, well. Are you sure you want to hear all my woes, sir?” He’d rather finish the cake and leave. Like it or not, Victoria had managed to squeak through his defenses. He needed to leave. As soon as possible. If all he did was give her an occasional wave of the hand but keep walking on by, the better.

  Art grabbed his plate. “I find that woes are best when shared, don’t you think? Gives a man a chance to mull over the possibilities.”

  *

  Victoria smiled at her father. Such a peach. Always trying to help other people. But she knew he didn’t have extra capital to loan Joe. On numerous occasions when he didn’t know she’d overheard, he told her mom that his own business had yet to get back on par with what it had been before the war. Less construction, fewer roofs to put up. So how did he think he could help Joe?

  As Joe and her father talked about Joe’s dreams for Howell, Victoria couldn’t help noticing the way his hair had grown out since she first ran into him in Lansing. Now, with it thick and full, he had to keep pushing a lock from his forehead each time he leaned forward to take a bite of cake. When he glanced up, his eyes, dark brown with thick lashes, stared at her, their smile inching into her heart. Had he been this good-looking as a boy? She didn’t remember him being so downright handsome. Gawky and gangly with big clomping feet stuck with her. But he was certainly attractive now.

  Her father lowered his voice. “Well, Joe? What do you think?”

  “Sir?�
��

  Her father glanced first at Joe, then at her. He grinned. “Guess your mind was elsewhere.”

  Victoria’s face fanned with red, she could feel heat reach all the way to her neck.

  With a scrape of her chair, she stood to her feet. Joe and her father followed. “Let’s do up these dishes, Mom, and give the men a chance to talk.” And give me a chance to recover from his attention.

  Though she busied herself at the sink, she heard every word between them.

  “Joe, what kind of proposition did you make banker Flannigan, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Well, sir, I have quite a bit in savings, but the extra loan would go a long way to getting the company rolling right away. Nothing fancy, mind you. All I wanted was a modest building to work from—a place to plop my hat and roll up my sleeves. I wanted enough money to be sure I’d make payroll once the company grew. I had hoped to hire two men right up front. And they’ll need room for tools, meetings with clients and a small space to call home away from home.”

  “And what type of structures?”

  “Now that the war’s over, I thought about building some nice little two-and three-bedroom bungalows for fellas returning, ready to start families. Nothing fancy, you see, just decent homes to raise a family in. Nearly every fellow I served with talked about nothing else as we built the temporary housing for them. Every man deserves a house of his own, don’t you agree?”

  “I do.”

  “And it isn’t as if I have to prove myself as a worker. Mr. Wysse, the father, would no doubt speak well of my work ethic. I don’t mind saying, the son isn’t much when it comes to ambition, only at bossing folks around. In my mind, that’s no way to run a business.”

  Art shrugged. “Never has been, son. Men respect what they see, not what they hear.”

  “I agree. Workers will give you all they have when they see you working alongside them. I’m a worker at heart, sir, engineer and all. I had hoped to buy Mr. Wysse out, but as soon as I suggested it, suddenly the oldest son wanted to be an active part of the family business. I’m still not exactly sure why. He has no ability and no inclination to see the business grow. If anything, I predict it will steadily decline once the old fellow steps down.”

  “And did you truly only offer a handshake and a smile to Flannigan?”

  “No, sir. I offered to mortgage my house. Well, my parents’ old house. It’s mine now. But I was happy to use it as collateral. He still said no.”

  Her father cleared his throat. “I’m thinking I might have a solution.”

  “You have a solution…to my problem?”

  Her father’s words were tempered with kindness as he spelled out a plan.

  *

  With a purpose in his steps, Joe pressed through the wood-and-glass door that led directly to Mr. Wysse’s office. As he slid around the son, Joe smiled and gave a small salute. “Wallace.”

  “Mr. Wysse to you.” Wallace’s eyes sparked outrage. Joe had no doubt Wysse was still fuming about last night whether he’d ever admit it or not.

  “Good morning to you, too.” Joe’s grin couldn’t hide behind the courage he had for this appointment. No more would he scrape and bow to Wallace Wysse.

  “You’d better get to work, Huntington.”

  Again, Joe smiled. “Soon as I’ve talked with your father.” And he immediately entered the elder Wysse’s office, closing the door in Wallace’s face.

  “Good morning, Mr. Wysse. I appreciate your seeing me on such short notice.”

  “Sit down, m’boy. Good to see you. Hope we haven’t been working you too hard.”

  Joe shifted in his seat. He hated this part, having to tell Mr. Wysse that it was time to move on. Wysse had been nothing but all wool and a yard wide, as his grandfather used to say. “Well, sir, that’s why I’m here this morning.”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “I’ve come to give you my notice. I’ll be moving on in two weeks.”

  The elder Wysse tugged the gnawed cigar from his mouth and stubbed it into a silver tray next to the phone. “Leave? Why would you want to leave us? We pay you well, don’t we?”

  “Yessir. But I’ve always wanted my own company and I feel like now’s the time to make my move.” He stood and stuck his hand out. “I appreciate you giving me this job when I returned, sir. But I think I can make things happen to get my own business started. With all the returning soldiers, there’s a need for my sort of company. Modest homes for young families. I’m excited to get started. I can’t thank you enough for all your kindness.”

  Wysse pumped Joe’s hand but didn’t let go. “You’ll be sorely missed, m’boy.” His face clouded and he eyed the nasty cigar in the ashtray. The smell alone nauseated Joe. “Sorely missed. Nothing I can do to change your mind? A few extra perks to make the job more palatable?”

  “I’m afraid not, sir.” Was he thinking what Joe was thinking? That if the old man had to depend on Wallace to run the company, there wouldn’t be a Wysse and Sons in a few months. “I’ll keep my eyes open for anyone looking for work, sir.”

  Wysse clapped his other hand on top of Joe’s, then dropped his hands to his sides at last. “Appreciate it, son. I’ll ask Melinda to have your final check ready for you when the time comes. And, Joseph, there might be a small thank-you included for all the extra hours you’ve worked ‘off’ the company time, if you get my drift. You might think I didn’t notice, but I did. You worked nearly as many hours off the clock as on.” His head dipped to his chest, just for a second, and then he assumed the strained smile once more. “I do know what you’ve meant to the business. I appreciate it.”

  “Thank you, sir.” While Joe was grateful, he thought it odd that on the surface, at least, Wysse’s company didn’t want for finances. Seemed the war hadn’t hurt them at all. Were they seriously that solid in the industry with Wallace Wysse Jr. now at the helm?

  Nonetheless, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. With that money and what he had saved, Joe figured he’d be able to put some capital into the new joint venture with Banks, even though Art had said it wasn’t necessary at the moment. They could share work space and potential clients. Still, Joe wasn’t dense. He knew the war had stunted all parts of the building industry and it was only beginning to recover. Art could use the extra money.

  *

  Victoria spun in circles as the little ones clapped. “More. More.”

  But her chest heaved as she flew through the added pirouettes. Have to sit down. “Whew, no more today, ladies. I’m afraid I’m a wee bit tired trying to keep up with you.”

  “Tired?”

  “Of us?”

  “No, not tired of you, but because I’ve been chasing you around.”

  They giggled and laughed, half of their smiles missing front teeth. Victoria placed a hand over her chest and grinned at the silly faces. “You’re all dismissed for the day.” And with that, she plunked onto the bench as the children scurried in all directions. Where did they get that kind of energy?

  Her mind wandered to what Joe might be doing at the moment. He and her father had come up with some wonderful ideas to benefit both of them at work. Would that mean she’d be seeing more of Joe or less? Or not at all? She couldn’t decide yet. Because the last thing she wanted was for them to feel awkward around one another.

  “Victoria!” Flo’s voice pierced the juvenile chattering.

  “In here,” she said, rising from the bench. “What has you all excited?”

  Flo’s face flushed pink. “I understand that nice Joseph Huntington is finally putting down roots in Howell. Is that right? He’s going into business with your father?”

  That nice Joseph? Had Florence set her cap for him? “Yes, he and my father are planning to work together. He can use Dad on projects, and Joe can help him to create new work for the company. But they’re still trying to work through the logistics. I’d say it means he’s going to be sticking around.”

  Again with the pink-tinged cheeks, Fl
o asked, “Are you and Joseph…I mean, are you two seeing each other? Or anything?”

  “Not at all.” Well, they weren’t. She’d like it if they were, but Flo was her best friend. How could she say there was something between them when there wasn’t? Just because he and her father worked together now didn’t mean she and Joseph would be any more to each other than friends. At least that was something positive.

  “I know the two of you have seen each other. You know, as in dating. Is it serious?”

  “No, and we haven’t been dating. But why would that matter?” Hopefully Flo wasn’t intending to pursue Joe. If anyone wanted him, it was Victoria. She’d love to have Old Brown Eyes wink at her. But she had to be very careful what she said so Florence wouldn’t be hurt.

  “Oh, never mind. I just wondered. I saw him make eyes at you and I was hoping his flirting had been a passing fancy.”

  Always searching for the right man. With prayer and confidence, Flo would meet the right man in time. Victoria laid a hand on Florence’s arm. “Flo, give it time. The right man is going to cross your path, in God’s timing. Don’t be in a hurry to hook yourself to the first guy who pays you a compliment. You’re better than that. And whether it’s Joe or somebody else, be sure it’s what God wants for your life.”

  “It’s easy for you to say, Victoria. You’ve always had beaus. Men buzz around you like the proverbial bees to honey. I’m not pretty like you.”

  What? Her best friend had no sense of confidence in herself. “You’re right, Flo. You aren’t pretty.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re beautiful. Inside and out. You always have been, and when that right man comes along…well…he’ll see it, too.” Just please don’t let it be Joe. Victoria didn’t seem to be able to stop this growing attraction she had toward him.

  Flo inched forward, wrapped Victoria in her arms. “You are the best friend a girl could have. What would I do without you?”

 

‹ Prev