Hard Habit to Break

by Linda Cajio

  And he’d rejected her.

  More than that, he was gone.

  She drove automatically as she wondered if he knew how proud she was of him for the tremendous odds he’d overcome to become successful and wealthy. No wonder he’d retired so young! He must have worked himself almost to death to attain the goals he had, and in so short a time. She’d always had a lovely family to support her during the bad times, but Matt had had nothing and no one.

  Nothing and no one then, but now he had her.

  At least he would, she silently vowed, if he ever came back from wherever it was he had gone.

  And if he didn’t, she’d look for him no matter how long it took. Then she’d tell him the last thing she felt for him was pity, and that she loved him. And if he still refused to come back home, she’d drag him by his beard.

  It was late afternoon when the bank’s doors opened unexpectedly. Liz glanced up sharply from the tellers’ daily receipts lying on her desk, realizing Georgina had forgotten to lock the front doors again after closing. She should have checked.…

  All thought ceased, and she gasped in astonishment as Matt strolled inside with Millie Jackson.

  “Oh, Liz, I’m so happy,” Millie blurted out as she rushed past the open gate of the wrought-iron divider separating the tellers’ area from the manager’s.

  Liz’s astonishment doubled when Millie turned frankly admiring eyes to Matt, who had stopped on the other side of the divider. He smiled charmingly at Millie, then turned to Liz.

  She stared in confusion at the two of them. Matt was very pleased about something, and it obviously involved Millie. Of all the ways she had hoped for him to reappear, this was definitely not one of them.

  “Matt has found a way for me to keep the farm without worrying about money and such,” Millie gushed. “And I wanted you to be the first to know.”

  “What?” Liz finally managed to ask.

  “Matt heard about my … ah … problem.” Millie giggled at her euphemism before continuing. “He’s arranged for a private foundation to lease the farm as a kind of vacation home for underprivileged children. The foundation will see to the daily running of the farm, since their whole idea is to provide the children with the stability of farm life, even if it’s only for a few weeks. And the children will learn how nature and humans depend on one another.”

  As Millie gave a long speech on the virtues of country living, Liz’s mind was working away. Of course it would all sound wonderful to Millie. She’d do anything to keep her farm.

  “Which foundation?” Liz interrupted in a cool tone while clasping her hands in front of her on the woodgrain Formica desktop.

  “The Deerling Foundation,” Matt replied, his smile slowly fading.

  And well it should, Liz thought, still a bit confused by the turn of events. But she knew she couldn’t find fault with the Deerling Foundation; it was a reputable one.

  She turned to Millie. “Your intentions are wonderful, but I think you should consider this very carefully, Millie. It will be a big change for you, with the constant disruption of strangers coming and going all the time. While the farm will still be yours, you must realize also that there may come a time when the foundation might want to do something with the farm that you won’t like. And sometime in the future they might have to institute some cost-cutting measures and your farm might be one of them. Then what will you do?”

  “Well …”

  Matt spoke smoothly over Millie’s hesitation. “The foundation has guaranteed Millie the right to dissolve the project at any time she wishes within the first two years. After that they will lease the farm for ten years, while still giving her a yearly option to dissolve the project. As you can see, the foundation is well aware of who actually owns the farm. They are not concerned that the farm be a paying operation, but that the children have an environment to learn respect for themselves and others.”

  Liz felt her cheeks heating, and she suppressed the embarrassment rising inside her. She firmly told herself that she was only pointing out a few of the project’s pitfalls to Millie. She was not feeling humiliated because she hadn’t come up with a way to help the woman and Matt had. Pride had nothing to do with it. Someone should remind Millie of potential trouble, that was all. She was simply that someone.

  “I know it’s exactly what Luther would want me to do,” Millie said defensively, breaking into Liz’s thoughts. “He always said he never wanted to sell, especially to these new farming conglomerates.”

  “Nobody wants you to do that,” Liz hastily assured the woman. She swallowed back a lump of pride. “This really sounds like a wonderful project. I just didn’t want you to rush into anything without carefully considering all the facts first.” She swallowed back a second and much larger lump. “Mr. Callahan should be commended for finding another option for you.”

  “Matt said I should think it over carefully, just like you did,” Millie admitted, smiling sheepishly. “And I am thinking carefully before I sign the papers. I guess I just got excited that I could keep the farm going without the worry. I really didn’t want to sell, you know.”

  Liz gave the woman a polite smile. She refused even to look at Matt.

  Millie went on. “You were so concerned for me that day I came in to see about the loans that I wanted you to be the first to know my good news.”

  “Thank you, Millie. I’m very glad to hear it,” Liz answered with all the graciousness she could muster. She forced herself to turn toward Matt. “Congratulations, Mr. Callahan. This looks very promising for Millie, and I hope she and Deerling can work out a successful arrangement.”

  Matt’s brows were drawn together in a puzzled frown as he stared at her. “Thanks. Millie? Would you mind waiting in the car for a few moments? Since I’m here I’d like to talk to Liz about my account, and then I’ll drive you home, okay?”

  Millie nodded and said a cheery good-bye that Liz barely heard. She was too busy forming her first question. The door to the bank swung close with a whoosh, signaling her battle charge.

  “How could you?” Liz began, her brain scrambling to sort through all that had just happened.

  “What? What?” Matt stuttered in astonishment. “What are you so angry about?”

  “You,” she shouted as she shoved back her chair and jumped to her feet. “I worry myself half to death all week wondering where you are and whether you’re coming back. I don’t know what I did to upset you like that, and you never gave me a chance to apologize! Well, the hell I will, Matt Callahan! Not after what you just put me through.”

  “But I thought you’d like it,” he said in a confused voice. He started to walk around the divider.

  “Stay right where you are!” she ordered him. He stopped, gazing at her with growing frustration. “Oh, I like it all right, Callahan. I like never receiving a phone call to tell me where you are, let alone what you’re doing. And I love the humiliation of crying on your shoulder about Millie, and you never opening your mouth to say: ‘I’ve got a great idea, and what do you think, Liz?’ ”

  “I wanted—”

  “Let me speak! You’ve yelled at me, and when you weren’t yelling, you were kissing me. You turned my emotions upside down until I was a dish of Jell-O. You made me risk my job and my promotion by making me act as crazy as you do.” She shook a finger at him, not caring what she said just as long as she said it. “Well, let me tell you something, Matthew Callahan! You’d better find some other village idiot to fall in love with you, because I have had enough! Now, please leave!”

  “Liz!”

  “Just get out!”

  Angry and hurt, she unthinkingly stalked past the open gate in the divider and out the front door.

  Eleven

  “He made a fool of me,” Liz muttered without a glance at where she was going. She clenched her hands into tight fists. “He’s been making a fool of me ever since he moved next door! Of all the humiliating things to do to a person! That was the final straw.”

 
Still muttering out loud, she was across the town’s common and halfway down Lincoln Street before she began to calm down, and she remembered Matt was supposed to have made the grand exit from the bank.

  “Great, just great! damn, daaammmnnn!” she wailed, jerking to a halt in front of Hopewell’s only church.

  She covered her face with shaking hands. Of all the dumb, idiotic things to do, she thought frantically. How could she have been so stupid? Matt was probably back at the bank, laughing his fool head off.

  “Oh, Lord!” she gasped in horror. “The bank!”

  She whipped around and started running back up Lincoln Street, shame momentarily giving way to panic at the thought of having left the bank unattended. At the corner of Lincoln and the common, she skidded to a second, even more abrupt halt, one of her heels catching in a crack in the sidewalk. She tripped once before catching herself and straightening.

  If she were very, very lucky, he wouldn’t have left, she thought. But then she would have the humiliation of facing him after doing something so stupid.

  She looked across the common for Matt’s car. She instantly stopped herself.

  “I don’t want to know,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

  Realizing that Matt was a responsible citizen, and knowing in her heart that he’d never leave her in such a predicament, she snapped her eyes open and looked across to the bank.

  The Corvette was still in front of the bank’s red brick facade, but evidently not for long. Panic and relief washed through her when she saw Matt striding around the front of the car.

  Surprised that he’d leave the bank empty and unlocked before her return, she ran as fast as she could across the street and onto the common. Absently hitching her straight skirt of beige linen up her thighs with one hand, she ran impossibly fast until she almost flew over the grass. She didn’t even bother wasting time or breath by shouting to get his attention.

  But before she could reach him he was inside the car. It immediately roared to life, and with a squeal of tires, zoomed away from the curb to disappear around the corner.

  While crossing the street on the other side of the common, she wondered in disbelief how he could leave the bank like that.

  She’d never seen signs of his irresponsibility before, she realized. Had he been irresponsible all along, but she’d been too intrigued by his crazy charm to see it? When she’d needed him to cover for her, he’d let her down. He knew that she was responsible for whatever happened at the bank, and he’d just up and left.

  Reaching the bank’s double doors, she yanked the right one open and half-ran inside … and skidded to a stop at the sight of Mr. Seaver, the postmaster, smiling kindly at her from one of the lobby chairs.

  “Everything okay now?” he asked, rising to his feet.

  Huffing, she stared at him and nodded.

  “Good,” he said. “Matt told me you thought you’d left your car radio on. I did that one night—funny, how you forget about those things, isn’t it? Didn’t hurt the battery though. You shouldn’t have any problem, Liz. I was a little surprised that you came back in through the front instead of the back.”

  “The back?” she repeated while trying to calm herself enough to think properly. Matt must have seen her car wasn’t in front and used it as an excuse to explain her absence. Grateful that Mr. Seaver evidently hadn’t noticed she’d walked to work that morning, she took a deep breath and replied. “Oh. The back. The door locks automatically, and I never thought to take the keys.” She swallowed and asked, “Where’s Matt?”

  “Millie wasn’t feeling well, and he wanted to get her home. I just happened to be passing by on my way home from the post office, and he asked me to wait for you. Been nice and peaceful, you’ll be glad to know.”

  “I see.” She tried to smile. “Thanks, Mr. Seaver. I really appreciate it.”

  He chuckled. “Can’t have anyone robbing the bank while you’re not here. I better be going, so you can get home yourself.”

  After the elderly man had left, Liz firmly locked the doors and patted them in relief. She checked to make sure everything was in order in the bank, that the time vault had been locked and set. Then she gathered up her things from her desk and made her way to the back door. Stepping into the warm afternoon sunlight, she closed the door behind her, smiling to herself as it gave a satisfying click.

  Her smile faded when she caught sight of the empty employee parking spaces behind the bank. Matt had left her a shred of dignity when he’d had Mr. Seaver watch the bank, she thought, slowly walking down the asphalt-covered alley. But he hadn’t left her much else. No pride, no common sense. No love.

  She moaned, hoping the sudden, vague memory she had of her telling him to find somebody else to fall in love with him was a figment of her imagination. “Oh, Lord, I didn’t! I couldn’t have!”

  But she heard herself shouting at him to “find some other village idiot to fall in love with you” as clearly as she could hear the DeNato children playing in their backyard on the other side of the alley. Of all the things she could have said, she had said that! Her face flamed scarlet as her mind instantly replayed the whole scene, even to the details of the baby blue T-shirt Matt had worn under his raw silk blazer. And the terrible hurt returned as she remembered her days of worry while he’d been gallivanting around like a white knight on his faithful charger to save Millie’s farm.

  She should have been on that charger herself! At least she should have been on it with him, she corrected herself reluctantly. But the man had used her. She had shared her concerns with him, and he had tossed them away as if they had been a late notice from the phone company. Could she forgive that?

  Liz walked the rest of the way home. And as she did, her pride never allowed her to spare a glance at the profusion of blooming roses in almost every garden.

  Less than twenty-four hours later Liz blessed that little shred of dignity Matt had given her yesterday. It had played on her conscience all evening while she sat barricaded in her house. It had niggled at her all morning during the monthly meeting at the bank’s central office in Swanton.

  Now, as she drove along the lonely country road on her way back to Hopewell, she had nothing to do but think. To her left, behind a low stone wall, cows grazed under the late July sun. On the right, in straight, furrowed rows, the future harvest sprouted. An occasional copse of trees in full green foliage broke into the endless vista of rolling hills. In the distance the razor-sharp peaks of the Green Mountains rose up in a natural barrier, separating one side of Vermont from the other.

  Liz usually found the scene soothing, but she realized that it wasn’t helping her now. Her mind was too full of Matt.

  With a grimace she decided Matt should have been the one waiting for her at the bank. She had deserved the full and total humiliation of slinking back to face his laughter. Then she wouldn’t be feeling this tremendous guilt.

  “The clown who said, ‘Pride goeth before a fall,’ at least could have mentioned how high the cliff was,” she muttered, then sighed in despair.

  Matt had unselfishly given help where she couldn’t, but she’d been too proud to acknowledge that fact. It had taken all night and most of the morning before she’d finally realized how juvenile she’d been the day before.

  How selfish and ungrateful she must have sounded yesterday. From the beginning Matt had always considered her feelings, had understood the things that were important to her. He’d made every effort to give her time to accept what had been happening between them. He’d asked only that she not shut him out.

  Such a small request, Liz thought. And one she’d disregarded from the beginning. A modern woman had every right to demand a man treat her as his equal, in business and in love. But she had no right to trample on the poor guy when he was doing his best in the equality department. And a modern woman ought to apologize when she recognized how unfairly she’d treated her man.

  Liz swallowed. That was the problem. It wasn’t easy to apologize to Matt after
she’d told him she loved him in one breath—and to take a flying leap in the next.

  But she’d do it. She owed him a big apology, and if banking had taught her one thing, it was to pay her debts. It just took a little courage, she told herself, while her insides shrank at the thought. She’d do it tonight, right after work. On the other hand, maybe she ought to wait until tomorrow. Then she’d have all night to find the perfect words, so he’d have no other choice but to forgive her.

  She made a face. Okay, so she was a first-class coward.

  Her reflections were diverted by the sight of a white car parked on the side of the road by the stone wall. She leaned forward and peered through the windshield, trying to make out if someone was stranded and needed help, or if it was a tourist who had just stopped to admire the view. Keeping in mind the many news stories of faked stranded motorists, she had no intention of stopping herself—she acted like an idiot only where Matt was concerned—but she would send back help if it were needed.

  As she swiftly drew closer, Liz tensed. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were pale. The white car was beginning to look familiar. Too familiar.

  “It couldn’t be!” she exclaimed in a shocked whisper.

  To her dismay, she recognized Matt’s Corvette. And Matt, leaning against the wall. Panic flashed through her, and she wondered wildly if she could get away with passing by as if she hadn’t seen him. She knew it would be the dumbest, most childish stunt yet with him, but why break her record now?

  Sternly telling herself to act like an adult for once, Liz immediately slowed her car. When she reached his car, she turned the wheel slightly and rode the grass shoulder, stopping behind the Corvette. Her courage shriveling, she reminded herself that she was a grown woman who could make a simple apology for her poor behavior. That she had confessed her love didn’t matter. She’d probably lost him anyway with her infantile antics.

  With monumental will she opened the car door and slid out. Matt never turned from his perusal of the empty pasture. She shut the door behind her and drew in a deep breath. It didn’t help.