Out to Canaan (179 page)

Then again, why had Mack Stroupe swaggered around town, boasting of his influence on H. Tide's buying missions?

Another thing. Could Miami Development have anything to do with all this? Or was that merely a fluke?

He didn't know what the deal was, but he knew something was much worse than he had originally believed.

He knew it because the feeling in the pit of his stomach told him so.

Walter rang back.

“Cousin! What transpires in the hinterlands?”

“More than you want to know. Legal question.”

“Shoot,” said his cousin and lifelong best friend.

After talking with Walter, he rang an old acquaintance who worked at the state capitol. So what if it was nine-thirty in the evening and he hadn't seen Dewey Morgan in twelve years? Maybe Dewey didn't even work at the state capitol anymore.

“No problem,” said Dewey, who'd received quite a bureaucratic leg up in the intervening years. “I'll call you tomorrow.”

“As quickly as possible, if you'd be so kind. And if you're ever in Mitford, our guest room is yours.”

“I may take you up on it. Arlene has always wanted to see Mitford.”

If all the people he'd invited to use the guest room ever cashed in their invitations . . .

At ten o'clock, the phone rang at the church office.

“Tim? Dewey. I looked up the name of the undisclosed partner in H. Tide of Orlando, right? And also Miami Development. It says here Edith A. Mallory—both companies. Hope that's what you're looking for.”

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Exactly!”

He'd been looking for it, all right, but he hated finding it.

He pushed through the curtains to the bakery kitchen without announcing himself from the other side.

“Winnie, I've got to tell you something.”

“What is it, Father? Sit down, you don't look so good.”

“H. Tide is owned by someone who may not treat you very well, I won't go into the details. The truth is, you probably don't want to sell to these people and be under their management.”

“Oh, no!”

“You'd be in the hands of Percy's landlord. I think you should talk to Percy.”

“But I've already signed the contract and sent it off.”

“And I've just talked with my cousin who's an attorney. Please.
Talk with Percy about his landlord. And if you don't like what you hear, we need to move fast.”

She wiped her hands and straightened her bandanna. “Whatever you say, Father.”

“Don't get 'is blood pressure up 'til we've served th' lunch crowd,” said Velma.

She turned to Winnie. “I'm takin' three pairs of shorts, not short short, just medium, three tops, and two sleeveless dresses with my white sweater. Are you takin' a formal for Captain's Night?”

“Oh, law,” said Winnie, looking addled, “I don't even have time to think about it, I don't know what I'm takin', I don't have a formal.”

“Well, be sure and take a pair of shoes with rubber soles so you don't slip around on deck.” Velma had been on a cruise sponsored by her children, and knew what was what.

“Velma,” urged the rector, “we need to move quickly. May I ask Percy just one question? How high can his blood pressure shoot if we ask just one question?”

“Oh, all right, but don't go on and on.”

Coot Hendrick banged a spoon against his water glass. Ever since Velma got invited on that cruise, she hadn't once refilled his coffee cup unless he asked for it outright.

The rector motioned to the proprietor. “Percy, give us a second, if you can.”

Percy stepped away from the grill, slapping a towel over his shoulder, and came to the counter.

Why was he always putting himself in the middle of some unpleasant circumstance? Had he become the worst thing a clergyman could possibly become—a meddler?

“Percy, now, take it easy. Don't get upset. I just need you to tell Winnie about . . .”

“About what?”

“Your landlord.”

The color surged into Percy's face. Two hundred and forty volts, minimum.

“Just a sentence or two,” he said lamely.

He marched down to Sweet Stuff with Winnie, who called H. Tide to say she was withdrawing the contract. She held the phone out for him to hear the general babble that erupted on the other end.

According to Walter, until the contract had been delivered back to the seller by the buyer, either by hand or U.S. mail, it was unenforceable.

When she hung up, he went to a table out front and thumped down in a chair. His own blood pressure wasn't exactly one-twenty over eighty.

“Earl Grey!” he said to Winnie. “Straight up, and make it a double.”

Once again, the candy had been snatched from Edith Mallory's hand. She'd lost Fernbank. She'd lost the rectory. And now she'd lost a prime property on Main Street.

In truth, the only property she'd been able to buy was one she already owned.

He was certain she'd make every effort not to lose Mack Stroupe.

Winnie served his tea, looking buoyant. “Lord help, I feel like a truck's just rolled off of me. Now I'm right back where I started—and glad to be there!”

“I have a verse for you, Winnie, from the prophet Jeremiah. ‘The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him; His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is His faithfulness.' ”

“Have a piece of chocolate cake!” said Winnie, beaming. “Or would you like a low-fat cookie?”

Esther Bolick was at home and mending, Barnabas was gaining strength, the yellow house was full of sawing and sanding, Cynthia's book was finished, and Winnie and Velma had sent postcards back to Mitford.

Percy taped Velma's to the cash register.

Dear Everybody, Wish you were here, you wouldn't believe the colors of the fish, their like neon. Winnie is sunburnt. If you include the ice
cream sundae party and early bird breakfast on deck, you can eat 11 times a day. I am keeping it to 9 or 10. Ha ha.

Velma

Winnie had left a sign in her window:

Gone cruisin.' Back on October 30

Percy trotted down the street and taped her postcard next to the sign.

Hi, folks, sorry I can't be here to serve you, but I am in the Caribean soaking up some sun. The Golden Band people had a fruit basket in our cabin and champagne which gave Velma a rash. Gosh, its beautiful down here, some places there are pigs in the road, though. Well, you keep it in the road til I get back, I will have you a big surprise in the bake case. Winnie