The Women of Tenacity

  by

  SHANNA HATFIELD

  Books by Shanna Hatfield

  The Women of Tenacity Series

  The Women of Tenacity - A Prelude

  Heart of Clay

  Country Boy vs. City Girl

  Not His Type

  The Women of Tenacity

  Copyright © 2011

  by Shanna Hatfield

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of "permission request” at the email address below or through her website.

  Shanna Hatfield

  shanna@shannahatfield.com

  shannahatfield.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  To all the lovely, independent, strong women I know.

  You are a constant inspiration and I appreciate the privilege

  of knowing each one of you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Girls

  Tamping down her impatience and a desire to shake the dowager seated across from her until her false teeth rattled, Callan Mathews instead pasted on a smile and glanced at her watch.

  She had two minutes to direct this conversation back on track and get out the door.

  “Splendid, Mrs. Pritchard. I’ll take your thoughts into consideration and look at the possibility of incorporating them with the ideas from the rest of the committee,” Callan said, writing notes in a folder and snapping it closed.

  Getting to her feet, she stuck her hand out toward the elderly woman who instead grabbed her arm, using Callan as a point of leverage to haul her considerable bulk off her overstuffed chair.

  Rather than turning loose, she dug her fingers into Callan’s arm and shuffled toward the door at the pace of a snail. Ready to stamp her foot in frustration, Callan instead walked along nodding her head to the matriarch’s inane ramblings.

  As the last surviving member of the oldest and snootiest family in the town of Tenacity, Mrs. Pritchard felt it her duty to share her opinion on everything, especially something as important as the library’s annual gala dinner. Callan just happened to be the unfortunate event planner hired to make the fundraiser successful.

  “You remember what I said, dear,” Mrs. Pritchard said, releasing her hold on Callan long enough to grasp the door frame. “I know you have the good sense to do what is best.”

  Relieved to be at the end of this interrogation and nearing escape, Callan turned with a smile that didn’t come close to reaching her eyes and stepped out the door.

  “I most certainly do. Thank you for your input Mrs. Pritchard,” Callan said as she attempted to keep her spine straight and walk sedately to her car.

  Driving calmly down the driveway, she waited until she was out of Mrs. Pritchard’s sight to hit the gas and race toward the other end of town.

  She was going to be late if she didn’t hurry and that was completely unacceptable.

  Callan pulled into the already full parking lot of Giovanni’s restaurant a few minutes later. Shedding the jacket of her business suit, she was glad she had worn a sleeveless blouse underneath it. The summer heat was beating down relentlessly and she planned to enjoy it, even if her fair skin got a little pink in the process.

  Grabbing her purse and keys, she hurried in the door to the hostess station, only to discover she was the last to arrive. So much for hoping Laken and Jenna would be fashionably late.

  Laken Johnson and Callan had been best friends since the summer they both worked for the Tenacity daily newspaper right out of college. Laken went on to open her own gift shop, On a Lark, at the Tenacity Mall, while Callan went to work as the creative director for the local convention center and started her own event planning business. Jenna Carver, married to Callan’s younger brother Josh, worked in Portland for the state’s human resources department. She and Callan had been friends since Josh first brought Jenna home to meet his family.

  As the hostess escorted her out on the patio, Callan would have known Laken was there even if she hadn’t seen her and Jenna at a table in the sunshine. Laken’s infectious laughter carried across the evening air and made those seated nearby smile.

  Watching her two friends soaking up the evening sun, Callan smiled.

  “You’re looking pretty pleased with yourself, Callan. What’s up?” Jenna asked as Callan pulled out the chair between her and Laken.

  “I managed to leave a meeting with Mrs. Pritchard without having my hide or my pride damaged too badly,” Callan said, sitting down at the square table and pushing her sun glasses back up on her nose. “I hope you didn’t have to wait on me too long. I was having a hard time getting away.”

  “What’s the old bat got her big nose in now?” Laken asked as she looked through the menu. Mrs. Pritchard was not of one Laken’s favorite customers.

  Jenna and Callan both laughed. Everyone in town knew Mrs. Pritchard thought she was a force to be reckoned with, even if no one actually followed her detailed orders.

  “The library fundraiser. She has it planned out in detail,” Callan said, leaning back in her chair and watching her friends.

  “I’m sure she does. And this was the reason for your latest summons to her dungeon?” Laken questioned, flipping back and forth through the menu.

  “It’s not exactly a dungeon,” Callan offered, trying to be nice. Mrs. Pritchard’s home was one of the town’s most esteemed landmarks a hundred and fifty years ago. Unfortunately, she and her husband never invested a dime in maintenance or repairs and it had long ago passed derelict status. That it didn’t collapse around her ears was something of a miracle, although no one was brave enough to voice that thought to her.

  “You’re right. It’s more like an eyesore in need of demolition,” Jenna said with a grin. “And you are braver than most to even go up there. Why do you let her waste your time with her prattle?”

  “Because it makes her feel important and needed,” Callan said quietly, before changing the subject. “Speaking of need, I definitely needed this night out with you two. It’s been way too long since we spent any time together.”

  “I’ll say,” Jenna agreed. “You would think being married to your brother would give us plenty of time together, but I feel like we never see you. Josh just mentioned yesterday that if he didn’t see Clay out at the ranch, he’d hardly know what was going on with you both.”

  “I know. Things have been a bit hectic lately. We’re really busy at work and my event planning business is finally taking off, so I feel like I’m constantly on the go,” Callan said. “Clay has mentioned more than once that I need to make more time for fun so I’m glad we can spend this beautiful evening enjoying a good meal and great company.”

  “Here, here,” Laken said, toasting the two with her water glass. “I needed a night away from the store and the kids. This is just what the doctor ordered. Well, this and some marvelous dessert that I really shouldn’t eat. That will definitely set everything to rights.”

  Jenna and Callan laughed as the waitress approached, ready to take their orders.

  “Well, Cindy,” Laken said, reading the girl’s name tag. “What do you recommend?”

  “Oh, um, there’s this new chicken dish that is, like, t
he best thing ever,” Cindy said, snapping her gum. “And the lasagna is always good. I like the ravioli, too.”

  Watching their young waitress, Callan smiled. “I think I’d like to try that new best ever chicken dish, Cindy.”

  Jenna and Laken followed suit and they soon were back to visiting and laughing.

  “You two won’t believe what my children did today,” Laken said as she leaned back in the chair and fluffed her jet black razor-cut hair.

  “Odds are high that we won’t,” Jenna said with a grin. “So why don’t you enlighten us.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Laken

  Laken pulled up at the mall on the back side of her store, where she had been parking for almost ten years. To say she loved her store was to make a gross understatement. On a Lark was her dream, her passion, her sanctuary, her kingdom.

  Unlocking the door and walking inside, Laken drew in a deep breath and smiled. Her store smelled of fine coffee, gourmet chocolates, top of the line candles and high-end bath products.

  She learned early on that consumable products would keep money coming in even when people weren’t in a gift-giving mood. That was part of the reason her store was so successful.

  Shoppers could come in anytime and find a great gift, but it was Laken’s personalized service that kept them coming back. She maintained detailed information about her customers, their likes, their hobbies, even their birthdays. She made it easy for her customers to get the product they wanted at a value that pleased them.

  Going into her office, Laken flipped on the light, turned on the computer and went to the tiny kitchen to brew a big pot of coffee. She liked to use samples of the coffee available in the store and offer it complimentary to her shoppers. After one taste, the shoppers were hooked. She had racked up a small fortune over the years in coffee sales alone.

  She looked around the store in the muted light streaming in from the mall hallway. Everything here was neat and organized. Laken ran her gift shop with a firm hand and a detailed eye.

  She often wondered why she couldn’t muster even a bit of that organization at home. Unbridled chaos ran amuck in every corner of her home, but here at the store Laken enforced order. Her staff knew that everything had to be put away exactly where it needed to be, that the store had to be cleaned each evening at closing and that anything less than perfection would not be tolerated.

  Laken wasn’t hard to work for if you had a bit of sense and could follow direction, which was one reason she could never see her children working after school in the store. How could two children completely escape the ability to have rational thought?

  Surely it wasn’t just their age. A 7-year-old and a 4-year-old should have some basic grasp of sense, shouldn’t they? Laken was convinced Alex and Brant were flawed, and she knew exactly who to blame. Her husband Tyler’s family didn’t have a sterling record when it came to good decisions or common sense.

  Walking back to her office, she checked her emails, listened to the two phone messages and took notes to research information for her customers, then prepared the next week’s work schedule.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw it was nearly time to open so she put on her nametag, poured the coffee into a carafe and walked to the front of the store. Placing the coffee on a small table near the coffee display, she turned on the lights and unlocked the gate at the front of the store.

  One of her most loyal customers was waiting outside as she pushed up the gate.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Lewellyn. How are you on this fine day?” Laken asked with a warm smile.

  “Well, I’m just as good as an old biddy like me can be,” the elderly woman replied with a twinkle in her pale blue eyes.

  “What can I help you with this morning?” Laken asked as they walked into the store.

  “First I want a cup of your deelish coffee and then I need some help finding a gift for my worthless granddaughter. She’s finally getting married,” Mrs. Lewellyn said, heading toward the coffee.

  Laken smothered a laugh and poured a cup of coffee. Half an hour later, Mrs. Lewellyn left with a gift she liked, beautifully wrapped and ready for gift-giving.

  Her day ran along smoothly until mid-afternoon when Tyler raced into the store with the two kids in tow.

  “Hon, Veronica got really sick this afternoon and couldn’t watch the kids so she called me but I’ve got to run back out to a job site and don’t have time to track down someone else to watch them. They’ll just have to stay here for a while,” Tyler said as he placed Brant’s backpack on the check-out counter.

  “Tyler, you can’t leave the kids here. I’ve only got one other girl working the floor and you know Saturdays are my busiest day of the week. Did you try calling Mom or Dad? Can’t you take them with you for a while?”

  “We’ve gone over this before. I can’t take them with me. You know how dangerous it is for them to be out at a construction site. Besides, I’m not sure how long I’ll be. There’s a problem with one of the support beams. I’ve got a skeleton crew out there since it is Saturday. I can’t leave the kids in the pickup and you know they won’t stay in it anyway. Remember the last time I took them? Brant ended up hanging off the roof and nearly took ten years off my life before we got him down. You are going to have to keep them or find someone to take them. I just can’t take them with me. Sorry,” Tyler said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek as he ran out the door.

  Laken straightened to her full height of five feet two inches and rolled back her shoulders. Darn that Tyler. He knew how much she hated having the kids in the store. They always broke something, frightened the customers or terrorized the sales staff. And while she was throwing blame around, how dare the babysitter get sick on a Saturday afternoon. It seemed oddly convenient to her.

  Looking at her two kids eyeing her, she released a sigh. Exact replicas of their father from their warm brown hair and blue eyes to the dimples in their chins, how could she not love them to pieces even if they did drive her nuts?

  “Okay, monkeys, here is the deal. You are going to have to stay here with Mommy for a bit so I need you to be extra, extra good today. If you are, you can have something special for dinner tonight. Is that a deal?” Laken wasn’t above bribery. Whatever it took to get through the next couple hours. Then she could leave the kids with her mom and meet Jenna and Callan for a relaxing evening.

  “Sure, Mommy, we’ll be good,” Alex said, looking around the store curiously.

  “I am counting on you, Sweetie-Girl,” Laken said, giving her daughter a hug. “How about you, Brant? Will you be good this afternoon?”

  “Yep. I’s always good,” Brant said, puffing out his skinny little chest.

  “Great. Why don’t you take your backpacks and go back to the break room. I’ll get you a snack and maybe you can play a game or color for a while,” Laken said, herding the kids to the back of the store.

  Everything seemed to be going along fine so Laken ran out front to assist a customer. She got busy answering questions while her sales girl frantically tried to run the register and wrap gifts.

  Laken looked up to see Alex standing in the doorway to the back of the store waving frantically. Holding up a finger toward her daughter and nodding her head, she hoped Alex would understand that she meant she would be with her in a minute.

  Unfortunately, Alex didn’t. Instead, she came running across the store to Laken and grabbed her hand.

  “Mommy, you’ve got to come right now. It’s flooding!” Alex said, tugging on Laken’s arm.

  The word flooding got Laken moving in a hurry. She discovered one of her children attempted to flush her feather duster down the toilet, which caused a plug that was now flooding the bathroom and getting dangerously close to reaching her stock room.

  “What did you two do?” Laken said between clenched teeth. “I just left you back here for a few minutes by yourself and you do this?”

  “It wasn’t me, Mommy. It was Brant,” Alex tattled.

  Turning off the w
ater to the toilet, Laken grabbed a bunch of towels she used for cleaning from a shelf then tried to keep the flood from spreading. She took the mop and put it in Alex’s hands and told her and Brant to try to keep the water from reaching the stock room.

  Running into her office she dialed their plumber, who knew them well from many mishaps at home, and he promised to hurry right over. Within five minutes of arriving he had the flood stopped. A few more minutes and the mess was contained.

  The bill he left her made her roll her hazel eyes in disgust, but she shot him a smile and a sincere word of thanks.

  Turning to her children, Alex looked somewhat chagrined although Brant didn’t seem to be troubled at all by the commotion he had caused.

  “You two will sit in this room and not move for the next thirty minutes. Is that understood?” Laken said in her most stern voice, placing the kids at a table in front of the television she used to show training videos to her staff. “I don’t want to hear so much as a peep. Got it?”

  “Yes, Mommy,” Alex said, not making eye contact.

  Watching the clock, Laken hoped her assistant manager would show up early. The sooner she arrived, the sooner she could take the kids and get them away from the temptation of destroying her store and all its contents.

  Assisting a customer, Laken returned to the register to find Brant standing near the counter. After she had the customer on her way, she leaned over just in time to watch Brant run his tongue along the entire edge of the counter.

  “Brant! Stop it! Ewww! What are you doing?”

  Laken ran around the counter and picked him up just as he burst into tears. How did you wipe the germs of a hundred customers off the tongue of your 4-year-old?

  <><><>

  “That’s when I packed them in the car, drove to Mom’s and told her to enjoy her evening being Grandma. I may go back and pick them up tomorrow. Maybe,” Laken said, looking at Callan and Jenna who exploded into peals of laughter.