Hard Hat Man

  Hard Hat Man

  By Edna Curry

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This is a work of fiction. All names in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the author, except for short excerpts for reviews.

  Hard Hat Man

  By Edna Curry

  Chapter 1

  “No!” Janita Kerry said. Her fingers tightened around the phone and she frowned. Mom is up to her usual tricks, laying on the guilt to get me to change my plans to suit hers.

  “I don’t need this, Mom. I’m tired, don’t you understand? Teaching third graders is a stressful job. I’m planning on doing as little as possible during my summer vacation.” She stepped closer to her Chicago apartment window and looked down on the courtyard. A dozen people were stretched out on deckchairs around the pool, sunbathing in the warm June sunshine. That was what she intended to do.

  “I’m sure you are tired, Jan dear. And I’d have done this alone if the lawyer had given me enough time. You know my movie contract says I have to be in England by Monday. Now Carl has to go on ahead with our things and I have to come to Minnesota to sign these wretched papers. I had to pay a penalty to change my flight, too.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jan said automatically, though she didn’t feel the teeniest bit sorry. Her rich stepfather wouldn’t even notice the extra money. Not to mention what Laura made as an actress, even if she didn’t always get starring roles.

  Her mother continued, “You know I wouldn’t ask you if there were anyone else to do it.”

  “Why now?” Jan asked. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to hang up the phone on her mother’s wheedling voice. “What took your lawyer so long? He’s had six months to sell Uncle Horace’s farm.”

  “There was some haggling over the price, with several developers bidding,” Laura explained. “Mr. Andrews just called to say they finally agreed on the terms and he has everything ready for me to sign.”

  “I see.” She might have known the problem would be over money. Doubtless Carl had been in on those negotiations.

  “I know it’s inconvenient, Honey, but it’ll only take a few days,” her mother said. “We’ll close up the house and turn the farm over to the developer. Then it’s his problem.”

  “Well....”

  “I’ll go to the closing, introduce you to my lawyer and the buyer and get everything signed before I leave. You’ll only have to finish up the stuff in the house. You can leave whenever you’re done. It’ll be our last chance to spend time together for a year, unless you decide to fly over to London for Christmas with me and Carl....”

  “You know I can’t afford to do that, Mom.” Jan sighed, knowing she’d have to give in to helping her mother. Laura was right. It would be a long time before they’d see each other again and it would be selfish of her not to take this chance. So much for her relaxing vacation. Jan turned away from the window and the view of the pool.

  “All right, Mom. I’ll do it.”

  She could almost hear a smile in her mother’s voice as she said, “Thanks, Honey. It won’t take long to go through Horace’s things. We’ll probably end up sending most of it to Goodwill.”

  “Why not just call Goodwill and tell them to pick it all up? Why do we have to go through it?” Jan asked, making a last ditch effort to back off.

  “Well...I’m not sure what we’ll find. There may be some valuable things you’d want to keep. Hidden money or papers or jewelry or something like that. Uncle Horace was a bit strange, you know, especially those last years after Aunt Esther died.”

  “You mean since Nancy ran off with her lover.”

  “Yes. And of course, poor Esther’s heart attack. That was the last straw. I think losing both his daughter and his wife in one summer was just too much for him. He kept to himself after that.”

  “Yes, I know, Mom.” She’d heard this story too many times before and it always gave her an unexplainable, strange feeling of dread. Her mother loved to tell the tale, though Jan suspected most of it was greatly exaggerated.

  “You’ll have plenty of time to rest, I assure you. Don’t you remember how peaceful it is in the country? We lived near them the year your father was overseas in the service, remember? And Grandma came for our family’s annual Memorial Day picnic? You played tag around the house with Nancy so often that summer. And read books with her out in the hammock under the elm trees. Surely you haven’t forgotten that?”

  Jan frowned, chewing her lip and twisting the phone cord around one finger. She didn’t want to be reminded of that last carefree summer before tragedy hit them all like a Mac truck.

  “No, Mom, I haven’t forgotten.” She shuddered. How could she forget? Her mother might remember good times there, but Jan had had nightmares for months afterward. Jan remembered Aunt Esther crying constantly and Uncle Horace frowning like a thundercloud the whole time. She remembered him as being either tight-lipped and silent or barking at her angrily.

  Soon after Nancy disappeared, Nancy’s mother, Esther, had died of a heart attack. No one had even suspected she had a heart condition. One tragedy after another.

  Laura was saying, “It was right before we moved to Chicago.”

  “Yes, of course,” Jan said. “I remember.”

  “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then? I’ve made reservations for us at the Lakeside Motel.”

  “Wait a minute. What’s the address?”

  Her mother laughed. “You can’t miss it, Jan. It’s the only motel in that little burg.”

  “But how do I get to Lakeview?”

  “Use a map, dear. It’s somewhere north of Minneapolis, about an hour, I think. I’ll be there around noon. Bye.”

  Jan sighed and hung up the phone. Her mother had done it again, suckered her into doing something she really didn’t want to do.

  But then, how long could it take to close up an old farmhouse? She remembered Uncle Horace as a crotchety man in overalls and the house as a big white Victorian. And Aunt Esther cooking on an old gas range, and rolling out cookies on a round, wooden kitchen table. They hadn’t had much money. He might have hidden a little in his family Bible or in a drawer under his socks, but it shouldn’t take them long to sort stuff out. Then she’d get back to her vacation.

  This could hardly have come at a worse time. Classes had just ended and she was looking forward to some badly needed time off from her teaching job before she began taking summer classes toward her master’s degree.

  She’s done it again, conning me into using my free time to do something for her.

  ***

  In the Hart Construction office in Blaine, a suburb north of Minneapolis, owner Kyle Hart hung up the phone and buzzed his secretary.

  “Yes, Mr. Hart?” his secretary’s efficient, proper voice came over the intercom.

  “Marcia, will you make a dinner reservation for three at six tonight at that new Chinese place in Lakeview?”

  “Right away, sir. Laura Johnson is on line two.”

  Kyle flipped a button and answered the call. “Hello, Mrs. Johnson. Did you find your accommodations at the motel satisfactory?”

  “The motel is fine, Mr. Hart. We’re in unit twelve. But can we move up the time of the closing? I have to leave for London in two days. My daughter Jan will take care of the details of cleaning out the house.”

  Jan! His mind jumped back to grade school and the fiesty, skinny girl who’d sat ahead of him and he grinned. He’d loved to tweak her pony tail, just to get her to turn around and stick out her tongue at him. Sometimes the teacher had caught him and made him write, ‘I will not p
ull Janita’s hair’ on the chalkboard one hundred times. But it had been worth it. He wondered if she would remember him. Was she still so much fun?

  “I’m sure we can work something out,” he told Laura. “I’ll pick you both up personally about five thirty. We’ll discuss it over dinner, okay?”

  At her assent, he hung up. Running a nervous hand through his short hair, he stepped to the window and stared out. His new office building, housing Hart Construction, overlooked the freeway. Traffic whizzed by in a steady stream. A neat lawn and freshly planted trees were directly below.

  The scene suggested wealth and success but he knew it was an illusion. Few people knew the financial foundation under Hart Construction was shaky since he’d taken a huge loss on his last project. Unless he made this latest project work, his ratings with his creditors would drop to zero. He had to make it go. He was counting on it.

  Moving over a few steps, he studied the artist’s conception of his project on the wall. Three buildings set at angles around tennis courts and a large pool made up an apartment complex of one hundred and fifty medium priced units. The artist had filled in neat trees and landscaping. Sidewalks connected the apartments to a separate garage building that opened onto a blacktopped road and completed the complex.

  It was a pleasant scene. He hoped like hell he could make it all come true.

  He drove out to Lakeview and pulled up in front of the modest motel at precisely five-thirty. A small red Chevrolet sat in front of unit twelve. Had they driven out together? He rang the bell, frowning, trying to remember what Laura had said. Somehow he’d gotten the impression they lived in different places.

  A tall woman in a blue designer dress and perfectly coiffed brown hair answered the door.

  Her smile widened when he introduced himself. Waving him inside the modestly furnished room, she said, “I’m Laura Johnson. My daughter is almost ready. She arrived only a few minutes ago.”

  “No hurry.” He glanced around, dismayed to see how skimpily the room had been decorated. Everything seemed to be in shades of tan or brown, making it seem even more dreary. An open suitcase lay on a stand and some dresses hung on the closet rack near the door. He should have found better accommodations for them. But Lakeview was a very small town, so he hadn’t had much choice in making their reservations.

  A door opened and Kyle turned to see a slim, younger woman step out of the other room. He forgot to breathe as his gaze slid over her. Was this really the Jan he’d remembered?

  She was tall, maybe five inches less than his six foot one. Her hair was brown like her mother’s, but loosely curled around her face in a casual style. Above a pert nose, blue eyes regarded him. Oh, yeah, he remembered those eyes! Her perfect, slim body was encased in brown slacks and a gold silk blouse, which was filled out nicely.

  Laura said, “There you are, Janita. This is Kyle Hart, the contractor who’s buying Horace’s farm.”

  Kyle caught his breath and found his tongue. “Hello, Janita. We went to school together in fifth grade, remember?” He reached out and shook the hand she offered him.

  “Hello, Mr. Hart. We did? Well, that was ages ago. It’s nice to meet you again. I prefer Jan, please.” She shook his hand, then turned away, as though he were of no importance to her.

  He cleared his throat, embarrassed that he’d even mentioned grade school. Obviously she either didn’t remember him or chose not to admit it. She and her mother had moved away that summer and he hadn’t seen or heard of them again until now. And now their cooperation was a key to securing his future. He tried to sound cheerful. “I’ve made reservations at a Chinese restaurant. Will that be okay?”

  “Sounds fine.” Jan picked up a brown leather purse and looked at her mother. “Ready, Mom?”

  They walked outside to his car. He heard Laura hiss, “Call me Laura, not Mom.” So, mom didn’t like being reminded of her age, eh? Hiding a grin, he opened the back door of his older model Buick, wishing he could impress them with a more expensive vehicle. Why did it irritate him that Jan was ignoring him? He’d only see her for a few days and then she’d leave. No skin off his nose if she didn’t like him. Or did she remember him and was ignoring him to pay him back for torturing her back then? Somehow, that idea pleased him. If it was true, it would mean she did remember him.

  Laura stepped ahead of her daughter and got in, saying, “You sit up front and get acquainted, dear.”

  Jan frowned, but obediently got into the front bucket seat. He got behind the wheel, glancing over to be sure she’d buckled up. She had.

  On the short drive to the restaurant, Jan said little, and he sensed some hostility. Was she only resenting her mother’s obvious push in his direction? Or was she against the sale of the property for some reason?

  That thought made him nervous and more determined to make her like him. Sending her a friendly smile, he asked, “Did you have a nice drive down?”

  “Not really. It poured most of the way and I got lost twice, which was why I arrived late.” Her soft red lips twisted in a wry smile.

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “No harm done. I found Lakeview, eventually.”

  “You don’t have a GPS?”

  “No. Never tried using one. I usually Google my route before I leave home and that works pretty well. I just missed a couple of road signs in the rain, so went straight when I should have turned.” She glanced at him.

  He met her blue eyes and couldn’t look away. Heat sizzled between them.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. For a long moment her gaze remained locked to his. He could feel his heart speed up.

  Then he swallowed and jerked his gaze back to the road. What had that been all about? He glanced in the rear view mirror to see if her mother had noticed.

  But Laura seemed to be interested in the passing scenery, paying no attention to him or her daughter. Jan was looking out the side window now. Maybe he’d imagined the heat in her gaze. But he hadn’t imagined his own reaction.

  He’d better stick to business if he wanted to keep his company afloat. This was no time for romantic side trips, no matter how tempting the woman was!

  ***

  Jan worried her lower lip and turned to stare at the neat one story homes lining Lakeview’s streets and the children playing hopscotch on the sidewalks. Whatever was the matter with her, to react like a lovesick schoolgirl to this man? Sure, he’d shared a classroom way back when, but he was essentially a stranger now, wasn’t he? Her face heated and her heart pounded. Honestly, was that any way for a schoolteacher to behave?

  He didn’t look at all like the boy who’d enjoyed teasing her in school. She hid a smile, remembering his red face when he’d had to stand at the blackboard and write his one hundred sentences.

  She swallowed and kept her eyes turned to the side window. Oh, she remembered him all right. But he was grown up, now and she knew nothing about him as a man. So he was a handsome specimen, as far as men went. But how did she know what he was really like? Time would tell whether he was worthy of her attention. Not that she meant to spend enough time here to pay attention to anyone. She’d be in and out of this little burg before the week was up.

  He parked the car at the curb and came around to open the door for her and her mother.

  The restaurant he escorted them into was large and busy. Still, there was a subdued, elegant air to the room.

  Oriental scenes predominantly painted in reds and yellows hung on the walls and the waiters hurried about carrying trays. The scents of fried chicken and shrimp filled the air, making her mouth water and reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  The hostess seated them at a table near the window overlooking a lovely flower garden with a bird feeder and fountain with a bird bath below it.

  “My, this is restful,” Laura enthused.

  “Isn’t it?” Kyle agreed. “I enjoy coming here.”

  Jan found herself seated opposite Kyle, where she couldn’t help but notice every little
move he made. Why did he make her nervous? He wouldn’t pull her hair now. And he wanted their cooperation on the farm sale, so she could count on him being a gentleman. She did her best to appear calm and controlled.

  A waitress brought them hot tea and took their orders.

  As they were attempting to get acquainted, a large, well-dressed lady rose from a table across the room and approached them. “Hello, Kyle! Are these the ladies you said I’d need to see about Horace’s things?”

  Jan heard Kyle groan softly before he answered, “Hello, Mrs. Robards. Yes, this is Laura Johnson and her daughter, Janita Kerry. Louise Robards, of our county’s historical society.”

  They exchanged greetings while Jan wondered why Kyle was upset. Did he dislike interruptions or just this woman?

  “I’m interested in whether you’ll consider donating some of Horace’s antiques to our collection,” Mrs. Robards said.

  “Oh, I hardly think Horace would have anything your historical society would want,” Laura said with a laugh.

  “But, I thought....” Mrs. Robards frowned, looking shocked.

  “I’m afraid this discussion is a bit premature,” Jan put in. “We’ve just arrived today. We haven’t had time to inventory anything yet or to decide what will be done with it. However, if you’ll give me your card, I’ll be happy to call you if there’s anything we don’t want that your society might wish to have.”

  “Thank you, my dear.” Mrs. Robards smiled and handed over a business card before wending her way through the tables back to her dinner companions.

  “Why did you tell her that?” Kyle asked. “You’ll have the woman haunting us for weeks. When Louise gets wind of a possible donation, she’s like a bloodhound in search of prey.”

  Jan raised her eyes to meet his warm brown ones. She liked the way his dark brown hair waved back from his face. But at the moment, his rugged features held an irritated look that raised her ire. “What a thing to say,” she said. “I’m sure she’s only trying to do her job.”

  Kyle’s mouth twisted in a laugh. “You don’t know her like I do.”