She scribbled faster. “I’ve seen the town square. It’s gorgeous.” A few quick notes were added. “That was very generous of you and your late husband.”
“We didn’t do it to be generous, and I would really rather you didn’t mention it in your column. I’m more concerned about the offer I received from the hotel chain. It’s a substantial amount of money, plus as part of the agreement, they will promise not to tear down the lighthouse. They even offered to restore it and make it accessible to their guests. It would be a big draw.”
“Makes sense.” She wondered if Millicent’s mind had already been made up and if she was using her column to explain her decision to the town.
“I could use the profits from the sale to help fund another college scholarship for one of the local kids. I set one up a couple months ago, but I’m sure two scholarships wouldn’t hurt.”
Norah sat back in her chair and ignored the pad on her lap. “You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?” No sense doing the column if it was a done deal.
“No.” Millicent smiled and relaxed. “In this folder”—she picked up the folder that had been lying on the coffee table next to the tray and handed it to Norah—“are copies of what the hotel chain sent me.”
Norah quickly flipped through the pages. Most were letters. There were a few drawings.
“They’ve been doing their homework, Norah. Facts, figures, and projections that will make your head spin. All it did for me was give me a headache.”
“I like facts, figures, and even projections.” She glanced at a pencil drawing of what a world-renowned hotel chain thought a three-story, one-hundred-room hotel should look like when it was built next to a five-story lighthouse. She wasn’t impressed.
“Tom’s a good friend of mine.” Millicent smiled as her cat jumped back up into her lap. “There was a condition on you doing this column for next week’s edition.”
“That would be?” She wasn’t fond of conditions, especially when they pertained to her work.
“The following week you must write the other side of the story. You must tell Matthew Porter’s story.”
“I didn’t even know Matthew wanted the property and the lighthouse.” She couldn’t imagine where Matthew was going to come up with that kind of money.
“He’s made no secret of it, Norah. He wants to restore the lighthouse himself and open it up to visitors. He also wants to rebuild from the original plans the lighthouse keeper’s house. Matthew has already acquired those plans and a few ancient photographs to work from.”
“Is he going to live in the house?” She had no idea where Matthew was living now.
“I believe so. I think on the other end of the property, he wants to build his workshop and storage for his business.”
“Will he be able to afford the taxes and all if he does that?” Maybe there was a way around this.
“That you’ll have to ask him.” Millicent continued to pet her cat calmly. “My biggest concern is what the town will be giving up if I sell to Matthew. In the paperwork I gave you is the hotel’s projection of the additional tourist dollars that would flow into Misty Harbor.”
“I take it they are substantial?”
“Very. We’re talking a big hotel with a well-known name. One who would bring in a higher class of tourist who has deeper pockets. Every shop, tour boat, and restaurant in this area would profit from them.”
“Heck of a dilemma.” She wouldn’t want to be in Millicent’s shoes trying to decide what to do.
“Yes, it is.” Millicent played with the tiny silver cross she wore around her neck. “That’s why you have to tell both sides of the story. From what I’ve seen of your work, you’re fair and factual, and you don’t express your own opinion.”
“This ought to be fun.” Not!
“I could have asked Tom to write an editorial about the sale of the property.”
“Why didn’t you?” Maybe if she found out why she hadn’t, she could convince her to change her mind. Tom would probably do a better job of it. He understood the economics of the area.
“Rumor had it that you were seeing Ned Porter before you wrote that piece about logging.”
“True.”
“Yet you wrote it anyway. In my book, that took guts. I’ve known the Porter boys all their lives. They stick together like glue, and they aren’t going to appreciate the column in which you explain the pros of the hotel chain buying the property.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” Ned was going to be livid.
“No, I’m expecting you to show the same guts now. Some of the residents are going to be awfully upset no matter which way this goes. It’s a hot issue.”
“Your friend Tom has a habit of giving me hot issues to cover.”
“Someone has to do it.” Millicent chuckled softly. “I think Tom chose well.”
“Some days, I think I should have gone with my second career choice.”
“Which was?”
“Crash test dummy.”
Millicent’s loud, unexpected laugh disturbed the cat, which sprinted out of the parlor with his tail in the air. “I can see now why our Ned is so taken with you.” Millicent frowned at the formal tea set and stood up. “Let’s forget the tea and the formality, and go into the kitchen. It’s been a while since I had such delightful company, and besides, I have some of the most delicious butter pecan ice cream.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ned was so mad he didn’t know if he was going to spit or go blind. How could Norah do this to his brother? Granted, she might not have known that it was Matthew’s dream to restore the old lighthouse and rebuild the house that had once stood beside it before she had written her column. But surely she had discovered it as she researched and verified her information. Three quarters of the town knew Matthew wanted that piece of property if and when Millicent Wyndham decided to sell.
Yesterday, ninety percent of the town had been opposed to having some massive, one-hundred-room monstrosity built on the cliff that overlooked the harbor. This afternoon, half of them were wondering where to line up to fill out job applications, and the other half were rubbing their hands together in anticipation of the windfall that they thought was about to be bestowed upon them. Norah had a lot to answer for.
No wonder the little minx had been acting funny all weekend. She had even come up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t spend last night in his bed. She just didn’t want to be there in case he read the article before she went to work. He honestly didn’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t been sitting at the jobsite on the opposite end of the county when he’d finally been able to read her column.
A tiny part of himself was relieved though. It all made sense now. When Norah had started acting a little different over the past week or so, he couldn’t figure out why. He had actually started worrying, thinking that Norah might be having second thoughts about their relationship.
He was the one having doubts now. Not about their relationship but about her sanity. Had she purposely been trying to ruin what was between them or to push him over the edge? Norah knew how much his family meant to him. The Porter boys might have tried to kill each other when they were younger, but now they would die for each other.
Ned drove into town and headed for Norah’s. He knew he should take the time to go home first, take a shower, and cool off. But he needed to see Norah now. He wanted to hear her explanation of why she hadn’t told him about the article before it hit the stands.
That was what hurt the most. She hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him. He knew that writing that piece hadn’t been her idea. Tom Belanger and Millicent Wyndham were old friends. He could see why Tom had assigned Norah that particular topic. But why hadn’t Norah told him? Did she think he would have tried to persuade her not to write it, or at the least, slant it in Matthew’s favor?
He muttered a curse as he turned up Norah’s street. She would have been right to worry about that one. He would have tried and be
en extremely disappointed in her if she hadn’t listened. And she would have hated herself for compromising her journalism ethics. Norah hadn’t been hired to write opinion pieces or to manipulate the facts. She had been given that column to write the other side of the story.
If he kept up this line of thinking, he would be thanking Norah for ruining Matthew’s chance at obtaining his dream. Norah had him so confused that he didn’t know if he was coming or going.
He pulled up in front of Norah’s and saw her standing by the Jeep’s door. She either had just gotten home, or she was leaving. By the guilty look on her face when she spotted him, his guess would be that she had been running to hide.
That guilty look just made him madder. He got out of the truck and slammed the door.
Norah flinched at the sound of the slamming door. She had been dreading this moment for over a week. She watched as Ned stalked up the driveway. Ned was furious. The keys to the Jeep were in her hand. She had been two minutes too late to make her escape. Coward that she was, she had been hoping to be with her mother and Karl by the time Ned finally tracked her down.
Millicent had told her she had guts. She only hoped her new friend was right.
“I’m not apologizing for writing that article, Ned. Every word, fact, and prediction is a direct quote and true.” She raised her chin a notch and looked up into his stormy face. She actually felt better going on the offensive. “It was my assignment and my job. I’m sorry if I hurt Matthew’s chances of buying the property, but the town needs to know what they might be losing. Millicent Wyndham was the one who requested I write that piece.” She left out the fact that next week’s column was already written. A copy of Matthew’s side of the argument was neatly folded in her purse.
Ned’s jaw clenched. “I’m not accusing you of falsifying a single word, Norah.”
“Then you’re mad that I didn’t take Matthew’s side.” Millicent had been insistent. The first week’s column would cover the hotel’s side. The second week’s would be Matthew Porter’s. “Don’t you think the town has the right to know what the hotel could offer?”
“This isn’t about what the hotel has to offer, and you know it!”
She blinked in confusion. Ned was so livid his face was beet red. His voice rose like thunder and nearly shook the ground beneath her feet, but amazingly, she wasn’t afraid. She realized that while Ned was furious as hell with her, he would never hit her. She smiled up at him.
Ned’s eyes grew round, and the vein near his temple stood out in sharp contrast to his molten, red face. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” He crowded her against the side of the Jeep and shouted, “You wrote that article to see how mad I would get. You wanted to push me to the edge, didn’t you?”
She relaxed further and tried not to smile. Ned looked like he was going to blow a gasket. She really hadn’t meant to get him quite this upset.
“What did you think I would do, Norah? Hit you like one of your old boyfriends?” Ned’s voice rose with each slowly pronounced word. “I . . . don’t hit . . . women!”
Norah felt her smile fade. “None of my boyfriends ever hit me, Ned.” She fumbled with her keys as humiliation washed over her. “It was my father.”
Every ounce of color faded from Ned’s face. In shock, his lips formed two words, but no sound emerged. “Your father?”
She turned, opened the door, and climbed into the Jeep. Before Ned could regroup and question her further, she drove away. She just needed to be alone for a moment.
Ned couldn’t believe it. One instant, Norah was standing in front of him; the next, she was gone. She couldn’t drop a bombshell like that and then just drive away. Her father had hit her?!
Here, he had been thinking a boyfriend had put that fear into her eyes. Fear he hadn’t seen in weeks. He hadn’t once thought it might have been her own father. Her mother didn’t seem to be afraid of men. Joanna Stevens was even dating KarlI James.
There was something different about Karl. He wouldn’t quite call him dangerous, but there were some hidden depths there. Rumor had it that Karl had been a leader of some notorious motorcycle gang out on the West Coast. Ned didn’t believe that particular rumor, but there was something more to Karl than met the eye.
Ned drove down Main Street looking for Norah’s battered old Jeep. Misty Harbor wasn’t big enough for his rose fairy to vanish completely. Joanna’s car hadn’t been at the house, nor was it parked by the gallery where she worked. He headed for Karl’s.
Five minutes later, he pulled into Karl’s driveway. Joanna’s car and Karl’s truck were both parked there, but not Norah’s Jeep. Maybe Norah’s mother would have an idea of where her daughter might have gone. He didn’t like the fact that Norah was alone after he had practically screamed himself hoarse at her. He needed to apologize. He needed to hold her.
He climbed out of his truck as Karl and Joanna stepped out of the house and onto the porch.
“Ned.” Karl was holding Joanna’s hand.
“Where’s Norah?” asked Joanna, looking toward his truck.
“I was hoping you could help me with that one.” He walked to the porch and joined them. “We had an argument, and she drove away. Now I can’t find her.”
“About her column in this morning’s paper?” Joanna’s gaze was on his face.
“Yes and no.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I understand why she wrote that article, and I even have to agree with some of what she said. Of course, I didn’t get around to telling her that part.”
“What part did you get around to telling her?” asked Karl.
“The part where she did it on purpose just to see how mad I would get.” He held Joanna’s concerned gaze. “I kind of yelled at her.” The understatement of the year if ever there was one.
“What was she doing when you were yelling?” Norah’s mother’s look of concern turned into confusion.
“She was smiling, which only made me madder so I yelled louder.” He still hadn’t figured out why she had been smiling.
Joanna laughed. “She was testing you, Ned. I’m not sure if it was consciously or subconsciously, but my daughter wanted to get you so mad that you didn’t know what to do.”
“She wanted to see if I would hit her or not.”
Joanna cringed. “I’m afraid so.” Joanna sat on one of the porch rockers and told Ned about the night Norah’s father had hit her.
Ned listened with dawning horror and anger. How could a man treat his wife and daughter like that? As Joanna finished the story, he glanced at Karl, who was standing next to the rocker. Karl’s expression was frighteningly calm.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at her.” He needed to find Norah right away. Somehow, he had to make this okay.
Joanna laughed softly. “Ned, if you are planning on having any kind of relationship with my daughter, you’ll be raising your voice a lot more in the future. It’s perfectly normal and healthy to argue, disagree, and occasionally raise your voice.”
“Especially if Norah takes after her mother.” Karl leaned forward and kissed Joanna’s cheek. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Ned, the Stevens women are a little headstrong and stubborn.”
Ned chuckled as Joanna blushed. “I hadn’t realized that Norah got that particular trait from her mother’s side of the family.”
“I’m afraid so,” Karl said.
Ned glanced up into the early evening sky. The sun was going down, and it would be dark soon. “Joanna, do you have any idea where Norah might have headed off to?”
“Not a clue.” Joanna stood up. “I don’t think she’ll be gone long. Especially if she was smiling when you were yelling. She probably just needed some time alone to work her feelings out, that’s all.”
“Okay.” He headed for his truck. “Thanks.”
Karl joined him by the side of the truck. Joanna was sitting on the porch swing out of earshot. “Relax, Ned. I’m sure she’s fine. As Joanna said, she was smiling.”
Ned wanted to rip something apart. “Do you happen to know where Norah’s father is now?” There had been a whole lot of the story Joanna hadn’t told him. He hadn’t been born yesterday; he could fill in the blanks. Not only had Vince Stevens hit his daughter, but Joanna had suffered at his hand as well.
Karl slapped him on the back. “Relax, Ned; the situation is already being handled.”
“How?” He wanted particulars. He wanted to be able to close his eyes at night and know Vince Stevens had suffered for what he had done.
“I called in a couple of favors.” Karl’s chuckle was a lighthearted sound.
He looked at Karl. Maybe the rumors were true, but he couldn’t imagine what a motorcycle gang on the West Coast was going to do about it. “What are they going to do—chain him behind a chopper and drag him down the highway?”
“Damn rumors.” Karl chuckled. “I have never been a member of a motorcycle gang, Ned. It’s nothing quite that glamorous or interesting.”
“So what favors did you call in?”
Karl studied him for a moment. “I don’t want it to get around, but I’m a retired FBI agent.”
“A Fed?” Karl didn’t look like any Fed he had seen, but then again, he didn’t know any personally. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Afraid not.” Karl chuckled. “I like being an old gang member better. It gives a guy a lot more color, don’t you think?”
Ned chuckled along with him. “Agreed, but you still didn’t tell me what kind of favors you pulled in.”
“Let’s just say Vince Stevens is going to find himself hounded by the law for every little thing for a very, very long time.” Karl grinned. “I do believe last week he even got a jaywalking fine.”
Ned was still laughing as he drove around town trying to spot Norah’s Jeep. He definitely never wanted to have Karl mad at him.
Fifteen minutes later, he finally spotted her Jeep in the place he should have looked first. It was parked in front of the lighthouse. He could see Norah sitting on a rock staring out over the ocean. One of the long skirts she favored was blowing in the breeze like a beacon. Considering the color of yellow it was, he should have spotted her up here when he had driven through town the first time. Ships out at sea could have spotted her.
Harbor Nights Page 23