Everlasting Love Read online

  Steele bolted to his feet. "I need a coffee," he muttered to himself and headed across the street. He chose an outside table against the window.

  Holly hurried out with his usual espresso. Without waiting for an invitation, she pulled out the chair across from him and plunked herself down. "I saw the Bensons leaving your office." She mentioned the couple from the church that had been in his office a few minutes ago.

  He studied her over the top of his cup. "Have a chair."

  Her startled laugh and faint blush made him smile. "Don't mind if I do," she said.

  "I'm not the only office in the building."

  "Maybe not but not many people come out of the camera shop with murder in their eyes." She sat back, crossed her arms and studied him.

  He returned her look for look, attitude for attitude. She had her own peculiar ideas of how he should run his business. On several occasions he'd come close to being rude about her suggestions but instead restrained himself to pointing out it was a little late to hand out flowers by the time couples sought out lawyers. He got a kick out the way she always sprang to the defense of her romantic notions. He probably shouldn't enjoy teasing her as much as he did.

  "Did you recommend a counselor to them?" she demanded.

  He said nothing. After all, Mr. Benson was a client and entitled to his privacy even in downtown Missoula, Montana where everyone seemed to know everyone's business. But no, he hadn't recommended counseling. He gave her a sad frown and shook his head. Maybe she'd give him one of her sunshine-drenched smiles if she thought he regretted the oversight. In his experience, though, people had to want to work things out. And if they didn't, trying to reason with them was futile.

  She shifted her gaze away. He felt a momentary relief to be free of her concentrated study then she pinned him again, her eyes hard as ice. "It's just wrong."

  He cocked one eyebrow. She'd never made any secret of what she thought about this part of his job. "Good coffee."

  She served the perfect cup of coffee—hot enough to scald his tongue, strong enough to fuel jet planes.

  That and the fact they had the banquet to plan were the only reasons he came here. Their worlds were light years apart. Or perhaps, more accurately, their philosophies. She, a confirmed romantic; he, a practical lawyer who dealt with realities.

  A tourist couple, complete with digital cameras they aimed indiscriminately, parked themselves at a table half hidden by the potted flowers.

  Holly spared him one more 'how could you?' look that had as much impact as a slap with invisible paper then rushed to wait on the couple.

  "Welcome. And what brings you to Missoula?"

  The couple admitted they were on their honeymoon. Steele sat back to listen to the conversation, smiling widely at Holly's predictable response. He'd seen her in action before.

  "Congratulations." She selected three pink flowers from the cart she refilled every morning, and handed them a card along with the tiny bouquet.

  The young woman gushed all over it. "How sweet. Did you paint this yourself?" She indicated the front of the card.

  Holly laughed. "It's a hobby of mine. That and collecting sayings to include."

  The new wife opened the card and read aloud, "'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.' That's so special. Look, honey." She handed it to her husband.

  He took the card, read it and smiled adoringly at the young woman at his side before he lifted his gaze to Holly. "Do you do this for all your customers?"

  "I believe in doing my part to keep love alive and well."

  The newlyweds drank in each other's presence and the woman whispered, "Our love is solid as a rock."

  Steele studied their clasped hands, watched as the woman buried her nose in the bouquet, her gaze never leaving her husband and felt a strange empty hunger—a yawning ache deep inside.

  Holly brought their coffee and left them to return to Steele. "Can I get you something to eat?"

  He realized he'd forgotten to have lunch. No wonder he had such an empty feeling inside. "Do you have any of those roast beef sandwiches left?"

  "Sure do."

  Another reason he kept returning. The first time he'd read the name of the sandwich—wasabi roast beef—he'd grimaced. He'd studied the already prepared sandwiches in the display case. And then she'd challenged him to try it. Her coffee-brown eyes seemed to dare him. And he wasn't about to turn down a dare especially from a pretty young woman. From the first bite he was hooked. The tender beef was sliced thin. The wasabi had enough zest to give the sandwich a delicious bite without clearing his sinuses. The sliced ripe tomato and crisp lettuce provided just the right amount of textural interest and coolness. It was the kind of sandwich that made him smile and lick his fingers when he finished.

  Right now his mouth watered in anticipation.

  She returned with the sandwich and a generous square of carrot cake spread with cream cheese frosting.

  The young couple finished their coffee, called thanks and wandered away, arm in arm. Steele wondered how much they saw of the sights of Missoula. They seldom took their gazes off each other.

  "I love to see newlyweds," Holly said.

  He picked up the sandwich, heard the wasabi and roast beef call his name but he couldn't ignore her blind optimism. He hesitated a moment then said, "I wish them all the best but the odds are against them you know."

  She sat down at his table again. "Steele, it's a pity you only see the disasters but surely you've seen long-lasting marriages, full of romance."

  He savored the flavor of his sandwich, too distracted by his hunger to think about her question.

  "I know you said your parents have a practical relationship but surely they have little romantic things they do."

  He wiped his mouth and drank from the glass of water she'd provided. Finally, unable to avoid her probing gaze, he answered. "My parents aren't the least bit romantic." At her doubtful look, he added, "Unless you count running for parts for each other or changing oil in one of the Cats." He chuckled at the way her eyes widened in surprise.

  "A kitty cat?"

  "No, a Caterpillar machine. Think tracks and lots of noise and bounce. Like I said, my parents have a business-like relationship. It works extremely well." He grinned as he watched her digest this information. Loved the way it shook her concept of marriage.

  She blinked away the idea and shook her head as if his parents' marriage relationship didn't count. "I wish you could see my parents together. I think it would change your mind about romance."

  He felt a flash of annoyance. Some people simply refused to accept any idea that didn't support their chosen belief. As a lawyer he didn't have that luxury. Not that he'd allow such fuzzy thinking even if he drove a Cat D9 for a living. Time to change the subject.

  "How many entries do you have for the band competition?"

  "Four so far. How many are we going to accept?"

  "Four? I never expected that many."

  "Oh ye of little faith. From the beginning I've prayed for this to be a huge success."

  "As if I didn't know that." She never let him forget it. "Hadn't we better limit it? Seems four is about all we can manage. We might have to change the voting thing. It's going to take too long to eliminate them one by one."

  "Aww. I wanted to do the TV thing."

  He checked for the telltale spark in her eyes, saw it and knew she teased. "How about a three round elimination?"

  She shrugged. "If we can't vote them off the island one by one, I don't care how we do it."

  He laughed. It hadn't taken him long to discover she had an irrepressible need to tease. One thing in her favor. About the only thing. Except maybe her dedication to a cause. He admired that in anyone.

  Whoa, who's tallying points here? They were opposite as day and night, as compatible as oil and water. The only thing they shared was the desire to make this banquet a success, each for their own reasons. She, because o
f her personal involvement with an African orphanage. He, because he didn't like to admit defeat in anything.

  He headed back to his office a few minutes later, thankful they had banquet plans well under way. They had no need to spend a lot of time together until last minute jobs demanded attention.

  Holly stepped out the back door of the café and locked up behind herself. She headed down the alley toward the historic East Pine Street where she lived. She loved Missoula. Full of flowers and trees, it deserved its nickname as the garden city. She'd loved it even before her first glimpse of the straw-colored hills crowned with emerald pines against a backdrop of smoky-blue mountains.

  From when Holly was young, her grandmother had filled Holly's vivid imagination with magical tales of a year spent in Missoula as nanny to a family who lived in one of the prestigious East Pine Street houses. Her grandmother told her of romantic walks along the river, picnics on the beautiful university campus. It was Nan's tales that sent Holly from her home in Kalispell to Missoula, first to Montana U to get her business degree then to buy the shop where she'd started her café—part of her dream come true. The other part of her dream had been achieved when she got an apartment in the historic Steigl apartments.

  She paused outside the building where she lived and glanced at the house. She loved the genteel atmosphere of the building with its brick exterior and gentle arches on the first story windows. She loved the leisurely, friendly feel of the city.

  She climbed to her second-story apartment, grabbed her laptop and headed for the chaise lounge on the balcony overlooking the street. She gave a satisfied sigh. Plans for the banquet were well in hand. Life was good. God was good.

  She fired up her computer and started to type an e-mail.

  Hey Heather,

  How's it goin', girl? Any more centipedes breaking into your mosquito netting? Please don't send me any more pictures of them. Ugh. I couldn't sleep for two days imagining one of them crawling over me. (Okay, it was only 2 minutes but just the same-- .)

  I told you how I managed to sneak my colorful choice of salads under Steele's radar. All the man cared about was the portion size of the meat. He almost nixed the chicken in favor of steak but the caterers don't do steak.

  I want to do a slide show featuring you and your work. You don't have any objection, do you? Perhaps you can help me with it. Send me a bunch of pictures. Or I can sort through the ones you've already sent.

  I have to tell you more about Steele. There's something below the surface of that man. He's a hard-nosed lawyer. He says he believes in a practical love and quotes scripture to substantiate his view. The man could argue the paint off a wall but I'm not convinced. I know something's hurt him. Something to do with a sibling. I don't think I told you about his reaction when I suggested that very thing. I thought he was going to crack. Just like the first ice on a pond. Remember the way it crackled and snapped into ragged puzzle pieces? Anyway, that's the sort of reaction I got when I prodded a little too hard with Steele, kind of attacking his negative attitude toward romance. Something has hurt the man real bad. I pray for his emotional healing. I'm not sure that would take care of his extreme practical nature however.

  But back to the banquet.Just a couple more weeks. Everything is in place. I'm hoping we sell every ticket. I'm so excited. Wish you could be here in person. I miss you every day but I know you're doing an important work.

  BTW how are the babies? Starting to grow yet? It still shocks me to think of someone abandoning tiny twin girls by the side of the road. What a miracle they were found in time and taken to you. I pray for them every day and you too, dear friend.

  Lots of hugs and love and prayers.

  Hol

  Just as she hit Send the phone rang. She grabbed the cordless from the table beside her and answered it.

  "Holly, how's my favorite girl?"

  "Hi Nan. How's my favorite grandmother?"

  "Right as rain, child. Right as rain."

  Holly settled back. A call from Nan always brightened her day. "You sound cheerful."

  "Always am, aren't I?"

  Holly chuckled. "You are. But you sound even more cheerful than usual. What's up?"

  "I'm going to visit Missoula."

  Holly pushed the laptop to the foot of the lounge chair and sat up. "It's about time." She'd tried for almost five years to get her grandmother to revisit the place of her youth but she consistently refused, saying she didn't want to ruin her memories. "Why now, all of a sudden?"

  Nan sucked in a breath that sounded quivery and uncertain to Holly.

  "Something isn’t wrong, is it?" What if Nan were sick, dying even, and had decided to visit Missoula while she still had the strength?

  "Nothing's wrong. In fact, things might be just right."

  Holly leaned over her knees, weak with relief. She wasn't ready to lose Nan. She was as close to her as she was to her parents. Nan had been a loving part of Holly's childhood even as she remained a loving force in her life today.

  "Holly, I wonder if you aren't going to think me a silly old woman at what I'm going to do."

  Holly smiled fondly. "I doubt it."

  "You remember I told you what a wonderful time I had in Missoula when I first left home."

  "Of course."

  "What made it special was a young man I met. He was my first love."

  "Grandpa?"

  "No, dear. I met your grandfather a year after that."

  Holly did some quick mental adjusting. She'd always assumed the man in the romantic stories was her grandfather. If not him— "Then who was this wonderful man and what happened to him?"

  "Nothing. We just went our separate ways. But he phoned me the other day. He lost his wife a year or so ago and now he wants to see me again. He suggested we meet in Missoula." Nan's voice fell to a whisper. "Where we met in the first place."

  "Nan, how exciting. It's like a story."

  "You don't think I'm being foolish?"

  "It's romantic. They say you never forget your first love."

  "Whoever 'they' are." Nan suddenly sounded all grandmotherly. "I'm sure we're different people after fifty years."

  "I suppose. What do you plan to do?"

  "He didn't say but I..." She paused. "You'll really think I'm a silly old woman now." Again she hesitated but when she spoke her voice sounded strong. "I'd like to revisit as many places as possible. Do the things we did back then."

  "Oh, Nan. That's so sweet. I don't think you're silly at all. I can help you."

  "Holly, I'm scared."

  "Nan." Her competent grandmother who had been a widow for twenty years, who changed her own oil, fixed flat tires, and had been known to fire up a chain saw to cut down a tree threatening her house, was afraid? "What's to be scared of?"

  "What if I don't feel the same?" Holly strained to hear her words. "What if I do?"

  "Don't you think you deserve the chance to find out either way? When are you coming? You'll stay with me, of course."

  "Tomorrow. I'm so nervous."

  "Don't be. By the way, does this old boyfriend have a name?"

  "Henry Davis."

  Holly pulled the phone away and stared at it. She must have misunderstood. She put the phone back to her ear. "Would you say that again?"

  "Henry Davis, child. He says his grandson is a lawyer in Missoula. You might have heard of him. Steele Davis. Do you know him?"

  Holly stared across the balustrade, saw the leaves on the trees but felt as if she'd leapt off the railing into the wild blue sky.

  "Holly, are you still there? Holly?"

  "I'm here, Nan. Why didn't you tell me about Henry before?"

  "I saw no need."

  Holly tried to reconcile this new information with what she knew of Steele. Somehow she couldn't imagine romance in association with a relative of his. "I know Steele Davis. His office is across the street from my cafe."

  "Well, well. Isn't that something? Why haven't you mentioned it?"


  Holly laughed. "I didn't see the need."

  Nan chuckled. "Seems we both have secrets."

  "Nan, I'm not hiding anything." She didn't want Nan to get the wrong idea. "He's just someone I'm working with on the banquet." Nan knew of Holly's desire to raise funds for the orphanage.

  "Still, small world."

  Holly agreed and they discussed it a bit more then made arrangements for Nan to come to the café the next day. "I'll let Henry know. We can meet there. That way if he turns out to be a scoundrel, you can help me walk away. I hope he isn't. I have such fond memories of our time together."

  A few minutes later they said goodbye. Holly shook her head in wonder and caution. Steele's grandfather of all people. She could well guess Steele's reaction to this but Holly intended to do what she could to help Nan recreate the summer of her youth. Even if this Henry Davis was at all like his grandson, Nan deserved to enjoy her memories. And if Mr. Davis was a kind old gentleman and treated Nan the way she remembered, then Holly would do everything in her power to help rekindle an old romance.

  She lay back and smiled up at the blue sky.

  4

  The phone rang. Steele's secretary had left already, so he grabbed it.

  "Hi there, young man, how are you doing?" The familiar roar of his grandfather's voice boomed across the airwaves.

  "Fine, Grandpops. Are you keeping out of trouble?"

  "No fun in that now, is there?"

  Steele leaned back and laughed. Pops always bragged about his wild escapades, half fiction, half wishful thinking and maybe—just maybe—a sliver of fact. Like Pops saying he'd caught a raging bull by tossing a rope out the truck window and wrapping the end around the steering wheel column. "Bull tried to charge the truck. Had to keep backing up to keep the grill between me and that red-eyed monster." There might have been a bit of truth in the story. After all, there was a grill the size and strength of a prison gate on the front of the truck Pops used to rattle around on his ranch. "Built tough to stop animals in their tracks," Pops liked to explain. But as to holding the bull single handedly while driving defensively...Well, what could Steele say? It made a good story.