A
month after taking
the job with Eve, Kate wrangled a Friday off and headed to Meadows. Crisp sunshine poured down from the sky, delivering a hint of warmth to the March afternoon, the first day of spring after a long wet winter. She parked in front of the newspaper office and paused, her nerves pulsing with a mix of irritation, relief, and hope. The irritation stemmed from today’s mission, one given to her by Eve Landon and one she disliked.
After all Nick had done, how could she pressure him to speed up the
California Dreaming
article he’d promised to do for Eve? He was working over sixty hours a week to keep the
Clarion
afloat in the midst of a terrible advertising slump, one that refused to end. With Kate putting in equally ridiculous hours, they’d spent just one quality afternoon together—if you could call buying a car quality time. The purchase had been stressful for her even with Nick’s help, but the old Subaru was a blight in the Eve’s Garden parking lot, and Eve had remarked on it. Today Kate was driving a gently used red 4WD SUV that she’d bought with the Sutton bonus money.
Climbing out of the vehicle, she inhaled the clean air and savored the quiet. She loved her work, but Eve was a maelstrom of ideas and energy, a tornado in a hurricane, and she required a great deal of attention. As much as Kate disliked mentioning the
California Dreaming
article to Nick, she’d do it because it was her job, but she wouldn’t do it immediately. It was Friday afternoon and she had the entire weekend to spend with him. Tingling with anticipation, she walked into the lobby.
“Surprise!” she called to Nick.
“Kate?” He strode out of the back office, his hair a little disheveled and his jaw dark with stubble. She loved that rugged look, especially when he hugged her and his whiskers tickled her cheek. After a quick kiss, she slipped out of his arms to enjoy the sight of him.
He stared back, a grin spreading across his face. “Does this mean you have the weekend off?”
“All of it. We’ve both been working too hard.” To prove it, she trailed her fingers along his jaw. “You haven’t even had time to shave.”
Nick laughed. “I’m just being lazy.”
“You? Never!” He was one of the hardest working people she knew, which made Eve’s request even more irritating. Before Kate dumped it on him, she wanted to take some of the weight off his shoulders. “It’s time I helped out around here. Let’s work on the
Clarion
tonight and tomorrow, then we’ll take Sunday off. If you’d like, we can go to church in the morning and then just relax.”
“That sounds good.” He hooked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If the weather stays warm, we can break out the bike, maybe look for condors. By the way, I talked to Marcus earlier today.”
Kate hadn’t thought about the birds since working for Eve. “How’s Wistoyo?”
“Much better. They hope to release her in a few weeks.”
“That’s great!”
Her heart gave a little leap, as if her soul were coming back to her body. Being in Meadows did that to her. So did being with Nick, but the rush of good feelings confused her. Eve said a woman could have everything she wanted, but how many balls could Kate keep in the air? And what about the balls Nick juggled in her absence? How could they be a couple with this constant battle between time, careers, and values? Kate loved him fiercely, but she was no closer to fully sharing his faith in God, or even understanding it. Maybe time with Nick would give her clarity. She hoped so, but meanwhile the
Clarion
needed attention.
Breaking away from him, she scooted to a desk with a monitor. “So fill me in. What’s happening with the next issue?”
He leaned his hips against the counter, his expression grim. “It’s not good. We’re down to twenty pages—maybe sixteen.”
“Nick, that’s terrible!” The number of ads determined the size of the paper. The smaller the paper, the lower the impact. The downward spiral had to be stopped, or the
Clarion
would go out of business like dozens of other print newspapers. No way could Kate let that happen. Taking a breath, she shifted into business mode. “I know about the Acorn. Who else have we lost?”
When he raked his hand through his shaggy hair, she realized just how hard he’d been working—too hard to even get a haircut. The scruff made him handsome to her, but his voice was rough with fatigue. “I spoke with Wayne at the market ten minutes ago. They’re cutting back from the double-truck to a half page.”
The market’s double-truck ad covered the two center pages of the paper and was the foundation of the
Clarion
’s advertising base. Wayne had run that ad in the very first issue and
every paper since. The
Clarion
couldn’t lose it and survive. Kate grabbed for the phone. “I’ll call him right now. Cutting back in a slump is a knee-jerk reaction. It just leads to a bigger slump. Did you tell them that?”
“Of course I did.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth tight and his eyes slightly narrowed.
“This is terrible,” she repeated. “I can’t believe it. We could go out of business—”
“Yeah, I know.” His voice pitched upward and came out in a near shout. “I’m doing everything I can, Kate.
Everything.”
“I know you are.” Guilt gnawed at her. Advertising was her wheelhouse and she’d left him to cope alone. Nick was a great writer, but he didn’t know this side of the business at all. “I have no right to criticize. It’s just—” Before she could admit to how scared she was, her phone rang. She snatched it out of her purse, saw the caller ID, and groaned. “It’s Eve. I have to take it.”
Nostrils flaring, he held up one hand as if ushering Eve into the room. “Sure. Go right ahead. Talk to her as long as you need.”
“I’ll make it quick. I promise.” In spite of her taut nerves, she greeted Eve with her usual good cheer, then listened to a rambling question about the gala to celebrate the new ad campaign, an event scheduled for April eighth. Eve was worried about the catering. Kate assured her that she’d handle it. “Anything else?”
“The magazine article,” Eve reminded her. “What did Nick say?”
Kate’s gaze flicked guiltily to his face. “I haven’t addressed it yet.”
“But you will—”
“Of course.” She hated being trapped between the two of them, especially with Nick watching her so closely. Facing
him, she rolled her eyes to convey her frustration with Eve, then escaped into the conference room where she huddled in a corner, her back to the room as she spoke to Eve in a whisper. “I’ll ask him. I promise. But not now—”
“But, darling. I need to know.”
“I just walked through the door. He’s—Oh.” To Kate’s chagrin, Nick gripped her shoulder and turned her, forcing her to look him in the eye.
Before she could say a word, he lifted the phone right out of her hand. “Hello, Eve. This is Nick. What’s the problem?”
What would he think of her whispering behind his back? She loved him, but she also wanted to please Eve. Pulled in two, she listened to his side of the conversation.
“It’s all arranged,” he told Eve while staring hard at Kate. “I was going to tell her today. I’ll be there next Friday with a photographer.” He traded a few more remarks with Eve, then gave Kate the phone and walked out of the conference room without a word to put her at ease.
Nick went straight to the lobby window where he could stare at the puffy clouds while he choked back his anger. Eve’s bossy tone had rankled him, but Kate’s criticism for the breakdown at the
Clarion
irked him far more.
Newspapers were a little bit like condors facing extinction. They needed care and attention to survive. Nick had worked his fingers off to keep the paper going. He would have appreciated a little gratitude. He’d also received book rejection number seventeen this morning and could have used a little TLC. Instead, here he was, a has-been hack writer committed to buying a dying newspaper, and in love with a bossy woman making big money working for a whack-job Hollywood legend.
He needed to work on his attitude.
Kate stepped out of the conference room looking chagrined. “Eve’s been pressuring me about the article, but I didn’t want to ask you—not when you’re already doing so much.”
“Forget it.” He could deal with Eve. It was Kate’s priorities that irked him.
She plopped down at the computer. “Thanks for handling her.”
“She’s a pain.”
“Sometimes.”
Always.
But that was Nick’s opinion. He’d barely resisted the urge to hang up on her. Only his feelings for Kate and God’s grace had kept him in control. “Don’t thank me, Kate. I did it for you.”
Everything was for her. They were a month into the trial period, and Nick didn’t know what to think. He and Kate spoke every night, but neither of them brought up the future. He prayed for guidance, but God only whispered to keep waiting. Nick was so sick of waiting he could hardly think straight. On top of everything else, the
Clarion
was foundering like an old Spanish galleon taking on water.
But Kate was flourishing. He wanted to be happy for her, but it hurt to see her acting and sounding like Eve.
Be patient,
he told himself. This was a trial period—not forever. Surely they’d find a way to be a couple. Taking a breath, he deliberately turned off the criticism and focused on the problem at hand. “We need to talk, but right now the paper’s in trouble. Let’s put that fire out first. Like I said, I’m doing everything I can—”
“I know.” She wrinkled her nose in that guilty way of hers, then hurried to a monitor. “Let me see what I can do over the next couple of days.”
He hoped she could work wonders. He loved the
Clarion
and still wanted to own it, but the business had to be viable. “You were about to call Wayne.”
“Yes.”
“Do it. Maybe he’ll change his mind.”
With Nick listening, she called Wayne and offered him a six-month special. When the grocer agreed to it, Nick breathed a little easier and went in the back office to work on neglected news stories. Friday night passed in a blur and so did Saturday, with Kate redesigning his clumsy ads, cutting deals, and talking to people like the professional she was.
By Sunday afternoon, the
Clarion
was back up to twenty-four pages. It was too late for a motorcycle ride, so they grilled steaks at his place and watched a sunset that reminded him of the one he’d seen on Mount Abel almost a year ago. A couple of times he opened his mouth to ask her if she thought she’d stay at Eve’s Garden permanently, but both times his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
He and Kate kissed good-night, and she returned to Los Angeles on Monday. With the
Clarion
in good shape, Nick spent some time doing prep work for Eve’s
California Dreaming
article. Early in the afternoon, he e-mailed his editor with a question. An hour later he checked for a response. Instead of hearing from the editor, he saw replies from the final three agents on his list.
He sucked in a lungful of air, held it, and blew it out as slowly as he could. This was it. The moment that would determine the future of his book, his whole career. He took another deep breath and skimmed the first e-mail.
Not right for me.
The second one.
Sorry,
I have to pass.
The third one.
Dear Author.
A form letter, the lowest possible kind of rejection. Shoving away from the desk, he gaped at the computer screen. He
was a has-been for sure, a hack. He’d been so sure of the call to tell his story. Now what? Another ten agents? He didn’t know, and his head was pounding with defeat, stinging pride, and bitter disappointment.
He couldn’t think in the office with Eileen on the phone and Heather, the intern, bopping around to country music. He considered calling Kate because he needed her, but the prospect of her voice mail stung worse than a
Dear Author
rejection. He needed light and air, the freedom of the open road, so he called Colton. “How about a driving lesson?”
“Cool.”