Forever Mine, Valentine Read online

  The stores were opening for the day when she notified the manager of the Sweet Delights Confectionery that she was ready to begin. After taking off her coat, she unpacked her acrylics and brushes and started to work.

  She outlined a lace heart in blush pink before reaching for a pot of white to begin a delicate border of more lace. The candy-shop manager had been specific about the valentines she wanted painted on her display windows. They were to look old-fashioned, in keeping with the flavor of the Remembrance Mall.

  “Nice job.” The speaker, a man, sounded out of breath.

  Jill glanced up and recognized the retreating form of Charlie Hartman. He walked briskly down the mall away from her, his arms working like pistons as he churned along in the company of several other men and women about his age. With the exception of Charlie, all of them wore sweat suits in Easter-egg colors.

  Must be the Senior Striders, Jill thought with a smile. She’d noticed them a couple of days earlier and had asked a shopkeeper who they were. She’d discovered that about twenty seniors race-walked through the mall on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. She hadn’t seen Charlie among them then, but he might have been there; she hadn’t studied them closely.

  Either Charlie hadn’t figured out the Senior Striders’ dress code or didn’t care for it, Jill mused as she gazed after him. With his leather-elbowed tweed sport coat and his jaunty fedora, he looked like a university professor late for class.

  She returned to her work, determined to make this window, her first in the mall, a masterpiece. She’d found that reluctant store managers often capitulated after watching her create something wonderful for another business.

  “Needs some red,” gasped Charlie as the Senior Striders whisked by again some minutes later.

  “I’d planned on it,” Jill called after him. Then she laughed at herself, because she hadn’t planned on it, at least not consciously. Sidewalk superintendents often showed up while she was working, but she’d never had one fling comments as he spun past her like a geriatric wind-up toy.

  She looked at her watch and estimated when he’d be back. The middle of the lace heart was dry, so she picked up her red paint and brushed in a small heart in the center of the larger one. The old man was right, she thought, stepping back to gauge the effect; the valentine had needed some red.

  From the corner of her eye she saw the colorful blur of Senior Striders rounding the bend. Turning her head, she watched them approach with Charlie bringing up the rear. For the first time she noticed that his clothes were a little on the shabby side, except for a snowy pair of running shoes that looked fresh off the shelf. Jill thought she remembered a pair just like them in the shoe section at Jegger Outfitters.

  “How do you like it?” she asked, gesturing toward the window when he was within earshot.

  “Capital, my dear,” he puffed. “Just capital.”

  “Charlie, you’re lagging,” a spry woman called over the shoulder of her purple sweat suit.

  “Yes, well, I have business here,” Charlie said, breathing hard as he stopped next to Jill. “I’ll fall in on the next go-round, Gladys.”

  “That’s no way to trim your gluteus maximus, Charlie,” the woman warned in a tone like a door chime. Then she sped away with the others.

  “Whew.” Charlie took out a handkerchief and mopped his ruddy face. Then, seemingly as an afterthought, he polished a gold figure-eight pin fastened to his lapel before returning the handkerchief to his coat pocket. “I felt certain that these professional shoes would put me in the middle of the pack, so to speak,” he said, glancing at his feet, “yet I’m still the hindmost member of the Senior Striders.” He winked at Jill. “Perhaps when they come around again I’ll set out in front of them. That would be nice, to lead for a change.”

  “I thought you were exercising, not competing,” Jill said.

  “Technically, yes. But I can tell that Gladys expects a better showing of me than always being last.”

  “Is Gladys your wife?”

  The old man’s red face turned even redder. “Goodness, no. She’s merely a, uh, a friend.”

  “Oh.” Jill smiled, suspecting a romance. “That’s nice.”

  “Actually, it’s a bit of a sticky wicket, as the British say, but that’s neither here nor there. I’m glad to see you again, Miss Jill Amory.”

  “I’m glad to see you, too, Charlie.” And she discovered that she was. She couldn’t understand why she had Charlie’s wholehearted approval, but it felt good, whatever the reason. “You remind me of someone back home, someone I miss a lot.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “My great-grandmother. I call her G.G.”

  “How quaint,” Charlie said with a smile.

  “Of course you’re probably not old enough to be my great-grandfather,” she added, hoping she hadn’t offended him.

  “I dare say that I am. Quite old enough.” Charlie stepped aside as a motorized cart carrying an elderly couple passed by.

  “Yet you’re race-walking, and that pair there needs special transportation,” Jill said.

  “Ah, but everyone’s situation is different, my dear. No telling what sort of hardships that couple has endured. No doubt they deserve to ride. I only hope they’ll continue to have the chance.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Charlie rubbed his chin and gazed after the cart. “The new mall management wants to do away with the free carts and the trolley. People will have to produce chits to prove they’ve bought something if they expect a ride.”

  “Really? What a shame. I admired the way this mall provided for the elderly and the handicapped shoppers.”

  Charlie gazed at her approvingly. “I rather thought you’d feel that way. So does Spencer. He’s battling with Tippy the Lip—I mean, Ms Henderson—to stop these insane cost-cutting measures.”

  “Tippy the Lip,” Jill said with a grin. “I remember hearing that name yesterday and wondering who it was.”

  “Have you met Ms Henderson?”

  “Yes, when I got permission to sell window decorations in the mall.”

  “Spencer’s epithet is well deserved. I’ve never met a woman with such an abrasive manner of speaking.”

  Jill laughed. “I know what you mean. She really turned me off, too, and I wondered how such a woman could have dreamed up all the wonderful features of this mall.”

  “Obviously they were dreamed up by her predecessor, with some help from the Jegger family. Spencer’s parents once owned the land this mall was built on. According to Spencer, Jegger’s has been an institution since the gold rush days, and his parents hesitated to sell the land and tear down the original store. The only reason they agreed was because the developers had such humanitarian concepts. Now Spencer’s in the position of having to fight to keep them.”

  “Good for him,” Jill said, impressed in spite of herself. “How’s he doing?”

  “Not very well. He’s had several nonproductive meetings with Ms Henderson and they always end in shouting matches, apparently.”

  “He ought to organize the other store owners. I remember a shopping center in North Dakota where the tenants protested against poor maintenance and trash collection. Their demands were met because they stuck together.”

  Charlie’s face lit up and he nodded. “You might mention that to Spencer when you see him. Were you able to observe how the tenants worked together for this end?” he added casually.

  “Sure. They paid me to design a few flyers, so I got in on some of the planning of the protest.”

  “Excellent.” Charlie rubbed his hands together. “Well, my dear, I’ve kept you long enough. I spy the Senior Striders coming around the bend, so I’d best be on my way.”

  He started out, calmly ignoring the good-natured catcalls and jeers from the Senior Striders several paces behind him. Jill watched as he tried valiantly to maintain his lead, but before they were out of sight he’d already been swallowed by the pack.

  Poor Charlie, she
thought as she went back to work. Yet he was certainly better off, trailing the pack or not, than many people his age. His compassion for those less able-bodied endeared him to her. And, though she feared to admit it to herself, she found Spence Jegger’s compassion endearing, too.

  But she’d let the matter end there. She could share what she knew about the North Dakota shopping center incident. Common decency dictated at least that much. Then she’d move on, as promised. She thought of Spence Jegger’s chiseled features, his warm brown eyes, his smile. She’d move on, all right, and fast, if she knew what was good for her.

  2

  “HIRE HER, Spencer, my boy. She’s solid gold, I tell you. She’d be perfect to help you coordinate this protest effort, and if you don’t give her a reason to stay longer in Colorado Springs, she’ll be gone in a week.” Charlie leaned his age-spotted hands on Spence’s desk and gazed down at him with fierce intent. “That would be a disaster.”

  Spence grinned. “Why are you so determined to play matchmaker? I admit she’s a good-looking woman, but hardly the only one around. If she’s leaving town in a week, I’m sure she has a good reason. Who am I to interfere?”

  “You will if you know what’s good for you. St. Valentine’s Day is exactly—let’s see—” Charlie lifted one hand and ticked the days off on his fingers “—fifteen days away.”

  “So?” Spence tilted his desk chair back.

  “Confound it, man! Don’t you realize that in your present state of loneliness, you’re liable to make a mess of St. Valentine’s Day?”

  “Who says I’m lonely?”

  Charlie pushed himself away from the desk and threw up his hands. “Not I, certainly. I would suppose every eligible man of thirty-two spends his evenings in the back room of his place of business playing chess with an itinerant old bum.”

  Spence frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t call yourself a bum.”

  “Why not tell the truth? Poverty is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “That’s right, and being temporarily down on your luck doesn’t make you a bum, either.”

  Charlie scratched his ear. “I’m trying to master the vernacular. I thought that’s what the common term was for people like me.”

  “Not in my book, Charlie. You’re obviously well educated, neat as a pin and scrupulously honest. I’d trust you with anything of mine.”

  “Ah.” Charlie rubbed his hands with satisfaction. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Will you trust me with your heart?”

  “Hey, wait a minute. That’s—”

  “You said anything,” Charlie reminded him. “Now just hear me out. You have a bit of a problem on your hands with Ms Tippy Henderson, correct?”

  “You’d better believe it.”

  “Our Jill has traveled around and spent a great deal of time observing shopping malls, due to her particular line of work. In North Dakota, she gained valuable experience organizing mall tenants into a cohesive unit. You need her expertise.”

  “And along the way you hope I’ll be captured by those green eyes of hers,” Spence commented. “You don’t fool me with all this concern about the mall problems.”

  “I most certainly am concerned about the mall problems,” Charlie said with an injured glance. “It just so happens that Jill is the answer to your personal problem, as well.”

  Spence chuckled. “But I don’t have a personal problem.”

  “You’re mistaken, my boy. Meet the wrong young woman on February fourteenth, and you’ll understand what a momentous problem you have.”

  “Come off it, Charlie.”

  “Mark my words,” Charlie said, jabbing the air with his forefinger. “In the life of every man and woman there is a significant St. Valentine’s Day. I feel quite certain that this one is yours.”

  “That’s because you happen to be here,” Spence said, chuckling.

  Charlie jumped and eyed him nervously. “What did you mean by that?”

  “Naturally you think this will be my big day. You haven’t been around to see the others, so you have nothing to compare it with.” Spence finished his statement with a wink.

  “You’ve had other significant St. Valentine’s Days?”

  Spence regarded him with amusement. “Okay, no. I can’t remember a single wonderful thing happening on St. Valentine’s Day, except when I was five and a beautiful older woman of eight kissed me.”

  “Ah.” Charlie sighed. “That doesn’t count. Anyway, this is your year.”

  Spence decided to humor the old guy to the end of his harangue. “And what, exactly, does that mean?”

  “Simply that the first eligible young woman you meet this St. Valentine’s Day will be your wife within a year.”

  Spence threw back his head and laughed. “Wife? Hey, I tried that once, and it didn’t work. I don’t mind you setting me up with someone for a few dates, but let’s not be finding me a wife, okay?”

  Charlie sighed. “In this modern age I can expect to be mocked, I suppose. But Spencer, there’s a reason your first marriage ended unhappily. That reason will become clear to you in the next month…if you hire Jill Amory as your adviser for this campaign against Tippy the Lip.”

  “You’re a regular Jeanne Dixon, Charlie, making predictions left and right.”

  “I suggest this for your own good, my boy. The mall will be a crowded place on St. Valentine’s Day. I’d deeply regret seeing you encounter the wrong young lady at this critical juncture.”

  Spence pushed himself out of his chair. “I don’t believe a word of this St. Valentine’s baloney, but you’ve made a good point about Jill’s background. And I don’t see how an extra week or so will upset her schedule.”

  Charlie beamed. “Excellent thinking. But try for at least two and a half weeks.”

  “Charlie, she’ll stay as long as she can stay. I can’t chain her to the desk.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “But you’re right about something else,” Spence added. “She fascinates me. She’s easy to look at, but I’m even more interested in what drives a woman to travel alone all over the country. That takes guts. That’s why I bought the window decoration. Pretty I can find without too much trouble, but a spirit of adventure isn’t that easy to come by.”

  Charlie gazed at him. “My instincts are excellent, Spencer. Trust me—she’s the one for you.” He took out his handkerchief and polished the figure-eight pin on his lapel. “Furthermore, I’m confident that you can persuade her to stay.” He glanced up. “And I would pursue the matter immediately, if I were you.”

  “Yeah, well, why not?” Spence walked around the desk. “Where did you see her last?”

  “When the Senior Striders finished up, she was in the vicinity of the Tastefully Lacy lingerie shop.”

  “Okay.” Spence paused and glanced at Charlie’s feet. “By the way, did the shoes help?”

  “Only my bunions,” Charlie said, “not my speed.”

  “Dead last again, huh?”

  “Unfortunately. I don’t think Gladys was particularly impressed.”

  “You might have to consider some serious training, Charlie. Some of those folks have been going at this for two years, and you can’t expect to catch up in two months without extra conditioning.”

  Charlie made a face. “I don’t relish charging around the mall during the day by myself. With the Senior Striders, I’m part of a crowd, but alone I might resemble a shoplifter trying to escape capture.”

  “Train at night,” Spence suggested. “Let yourself out the front and take a few turns around the mall when no one is here.”

  “I’ve been afraid to venture out alone after the mall closes, in case the security people see me.”

  “They already know about you, Charlie.”

  “They do?”

  “Sure. Jack and Steve are friends of mine, and besides, they needed to know you’re here all night so if a fire breaks out or anything happens, they can rescue you.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. But, Spencer
, they won’t tell Tippy the Lip, I hope? I’m certain that my staying here would be against her regulations.”

  Spence grimaced. “No doubt. That woman decorates her world with red tape. But Jack and Steve won’t tell. They don’t like her any better than I do. She’s already tried to cut their salaries.”

  “My, my. Where will it end?”

  “Who knows, Charlie. I guess my parents were naive to imagine that the same corporation would own the mall forever, but if they’d known what would happen in two short years, they never would’ve sold the land.”

  Charlie patted his arm. “You’ll put things to rights, my boy. You and Jill Amory.”

  Spence gazed at the old man and shook his head. “I must be crazy to let you talk me into this. No telling what else you’ve got up the sleeve of that tweed sport coat.”

  Charlie merely smiled.

  “If she turns out to be some sort of flake, I’m blaming this on you,” Spence said, backing out of the office.

  “She’ll turn out to be wonderful,” Charlie replied.

  WONDERFUL, Spence repeated to himself as he left the store. He hadn’t applied that adjective to a woman in quite a while, not since his courtship days with Gretchen. He still hadn’t sorted out whether he’d fallen in love with her or with Germany, and whether she’d fallen for him or his Air Force uniform.

  Not that it mattered now. In the end she’d loved Germany more than she’d loved him, and he’d loved Colorado Springs more than he’d loved her. Lots of love, all in the wrong places, couldn’t hold their marriage together.

  He took the stairs instead of the escalator to the second floor of the mall. Charlie wasn’t the only one who wanted to stay in shape, and besides, the wooden stairs with their polished brass railings were too beautiful to be simply ornamental.

  Spence would have preferred no escalators at all, because they looked far too modern compared with the wood-and-brass stairways. But some people needed the motorized steps, he realized, and accessibility was a cherished theme in the Remembrance Mall, or at least it had been until Tippy the Lip arrived.