Good question, Nora thought. She could just as easily have gone the other way back at the crossroads. What had brought her here to Clover Creek? she wondered. Destiny?
Sam’s eyes held hers. “I’d like to hear the answer to that myself,” he drawled.
Nora knew she was not going to get anyone to help her unjam the zipper and get out of the dress until she explained. “I’m afraid there’s been some misunderstanding,” Nora said, looking straight at Sam. Who seemed, oddly enough, to be the only one not harboring a hope that she would change course and marry Gus. She paused to draw a bracing breath. “I don’t know where everyone got the idea I’m in love with your brother,” she began, uncomfortably embarrassed, “but I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth! Gus and I are…” Nora groped for a way to explain. “Well, friends, sort of, and that’s all!”
At that, everyone regarded her so skeptically that it was all Nora could do not to groan out loud. “No one believes me, do they?” she asked Sam as a curious group of customers gathered round.
“Wouldn’t appear so, no.” Sam paused, his glance sliding over her approvingly before returning to focus on the self-conscious flush in her cheeks. “But there’s a simple way to clear this up. Just explain who you are, where you’re from and who you were really planning to marry today.”
Nora was tired of men telling her what to do! She crossed her arms in front of her and stubbornly dug in her heels. “I don’t see why I have to explain anything,” she retorted mutinously. Hadn’t she already revealed enough of her private life?
Sam shrugged. “Then don’t.”
“Fine.” Nora shrugged right back at him. Deciding she’d looked into the depths of his eyes long enough, she turned her glance away. “I won’t.”
“But if you want to calm all the questions about you and Gus and what might or might not be going on,” Sam continued, “you will.”
And have someone then take it upon himself to decide to play hero and call her father? As much as the dutiful-daughter part of her wanted to allay her father’s worries, the part of her that had had enough knew she could not deal with her dad, not yet. Forgetting for a moment all the others gathered around them, Nora regarded Sam sternly. “Look, I already told you my wedding was called off,” she said, making no effort to hide her exasperation with him.
“When did this happen?” Clara asked, as even more customers gathered round to hear.
“At the tourist station on the freeway, an hour ago,” Nora replied in an aside.
“You two met?” Harold gasped.
“Briefly,” Sam acknowledged reluctantly, his glance still heating her like a fleece blanket.
“And what little I said to you then is really all I intend to say on the matter,” Nora continued firmly. Like it or not, Sam and the Whittakers and everyone else in Clover Creek were all just going to have to accept that.
Fortunately for her, just then the phone began to ring.
Her stunned gaze still on Nora, Clara picked up the receiver. “Whittakers Department Store,” Clara said, then broke into a broad grin. “Gus, darling! We’ve all been waiting to hear from you! Hang on a minute, dear, while I put you on the speakerphone,” Clara said. She punched a few buttons and paused to confirm that he was still there before continuing, “Now, where are you, sweetheart?”
“Stuck in the city!” Gus Whittaker shouted from the other end. In the background, a horn blared and brakes squealed. The moment the background noise subsided, Gus lowered his voice and asked, somewhat anxiously, “Listen, Gran, did the pretty lady arrive okay?”
Everyone turned to Nora and grinned, as if her “secret” had been revealed.
She couldn’t help it; she blushed.
“I’m happy to report the pretty lady is here, and all in one piece!” Clara replied cheerfully. “But I must say we’d all be a little happier if you had only been here to witness her arrival, too!”
“I know, but—” Gus uttered a wistful sigh, then chuckled. “Isn’t she a beaut?”
“And then some,” Sam replied, with no hint of irony, as he turned back to Nora.
Her pulse automatically increased.
“You’ll take good care of her until I can arrive?” Gus continued to worry on the other end. “Find some place safe and warm and dry for her to stay? Maybe over at your house, Gran?”
“Don’t you worry, Gus. We’ll make room for her,” Sam said.
“Great.” On the other end, Gus breathed an audible sigh of relief. “When I get there, we’ll see about changing her name.”
At that, winks and nods were exchanged all around. Sam regarded her intently. Nora, helpless to prevent what they were all concluding, could only roll her eyes.
More horns sounded in the background, on the other end of the line. “Well, listen, I better go—” Gus said.
Clara frowned. “Wait. Don’t you want to talk to anyone else?” she asked her grandson quickly. Meaning me, of course, Nora thought.
“Gee, I’d love to, Gran,” Gus replied, “but…” A horn blared, obliterating his voice. Gus swore as the sounds of sirens increased in the background. “There’s an…” Static crackled. “…ambulance…” Brakes squealed. “…trying to…” Another horn blared. “…get through…” The siren rose to an earsplitting shriek before it faded slightly. “…later,” Gus said in a muffled tone.
The click of the connection being severed was followed by utter silence, as once again all eyes turned Nora’s way.
“I really don’t know what to say,” she said, blushing. She knew what they were thinking. She could hardly blame them. It had sounded as if Gus were talking about a woman arriving, as a surprise to his family, and since she was the only newcomer around, for the moment, anyway, they were assuming—quite wrongly, as it happened—that it was her.
“That’s all right, dear, you don’t have to say another word,” Clara Whittaker said, patting Nora’s hand gently. “I think we’ve all figured out what’s going on.”
Everyone looked at each other. After a moment, they all began to grin and talk at once. “It really is obvious,” someone put in finally.
A farmer in overalls and a bill cap chuckled merrily. “The pretty lady here and Gus had a fight—”
“He was probably late getting out of the city—like he said on the phone just now,” added a woman in a parka and jeans.
“And then, naturally, their plans got all messed up—” a teen Kimberlee’s age said.
“Who wouldn’t be ticked off?” a white-haired woman put in indignantly. “Gus should have put her—and their impending nuptials—first on their wedding day.”
“Typical Gus, though,” said a nicely dressed young woman with a toddler in tow. “Business first, then pleasure.”
Another woman, in an upscale running suit and sneakers, chuckled. “’Course, he makes up for it when he does party. There’s no one who can throw a bash like Gus!”
Nora threw up her hands in frustration and broke into the conversation. “For the last time, everyone! I am not engaged to Gus Whittaker!”
“Not anymore,” a handsome young man in construction clothes said, grinning and nodding at the bare ring finger on Nora’s left hand.
“Don’t worry, honey, when he shows up and proposes all over again, I’m sure he’ll bring you your ring,” an older man added.
“Unless…” Clara paused, a worried look on her face. “You