by Carol Ross
“You know what? It smells delicious.” She confidently kept her eyes locked with Bering’s as she carried the fork the rest of the way. And then her mouth exploded with flavor. She tried to keep her face composed.
“Well?” he said.
The knowing look in his eyes had a part of her wanting to deny its tastiness, but her stomach overruled her. She scooped another bite onto her fork and into her mouth. She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s edible, I suppose.”
Bering shook his head and chuckled. Then he picked up his fork and began eating his own meal.
* * *
EMILY QUICKLY READ the notes she had prepared. Laurel Davidson owned the local newspaper as well as the entire city block in which the Rankins Press was housed. She’d never been married, had no children, although she did have a younger sister for whom she was the legal guardian. She was generally considered to have very open-minded views for the small town of Rankins, but this seemed to be forgiven due to her fair editorial practices, her gift for diplomacy and her likable nature.
Emily stepped into the office and was surprised by how modern-looking it was. She’d imagined the sounds of clacking typewriters and envisioned a gargantuan antique-looking printing press with an ink-stained white-haired man in a bow tie hovering over it. But instead what she found was a smattering of state-of-the-art computers at several very modern-looking workstations complete with flat-screen computer monitors and ergonomic chairs. Her eyes darted around and she saw no sign of an actual press at all. And there was only one person in evidence, one very young woman, and she was working the reception desk. So much for assumptions, she thought as the girl flashed a friendly smile in her direction.
“Hi, you must be Emily,” she said, standing and reaching out a hand to greet her. “I’m Piper Davidson, Laurel’s sister. She said I’d know you when you came in and she was right.” Emily thought that was an odd statement considering that she and Laurel hadn’t even met yet.
“Nice to meet you, Piper.”
“So, I heard you were coming to the Rotary Club fund-raising dinner.”
“Word travels fast around here, huh?”
“Emily, honey, you have no idea. The whole town has been talking about you and Bering James having dinner together at the Caribou last night.”
Emily raised her brows and feigned a look of surprise. She really shouldn’t be surprised; she’d worked in enough small towns to believe that what Piper said was true. “Oh?”
“Are you two dating?”
Emily laughed at her directness and decided that she liked this girl. “Let me guess—you do the gossip section for the paper?”
“Now, see, I’ve been trying to convince my sister that the Press is in dire need of exactly such a thing. You wouldn’t mind mentioning it to her, would you?”
“Not at all,” she said.
“In case you didn’t already know, the Rotary Club fund-raiser is a really big deal around here. I bet you have a fabulous dress. Did you donate anything? Are you and Bering going together?”
“You know what, Piper? Forget about my talking to your sister about a column. I think you should bypass this small-town stuff and apply directly to those celebrity magazines.”
“Piper, are you pestering Ms. Hollings?”
Emily turned at the sound of the voice that obviously belonged to Laurel Davidson. Dressed in jeans and a snuggly turtleneck, she wore no makeup and her dark, silky hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. With her olive skin and high cheekbones, she looked vaguely exotic, yet something about her suggested wholesomeness at the same time. Beauty and trustworthiness—beneficial traits, Emily knew, in a reporter.
“No way,” replied Piper. “But she did say that I would be fabulous for a ‘noteworthy people’ type of column, didn’t you, Ms. Hollings?” She looked at her sister. “Did you hear that part?”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
She grinned slyly. “I’m doing it.”
Laurel gave her a withering look. She put her hand out toward Emily. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Ms. Hollings.”
“Please, call me Emily,” she said as she shook Laurel’s hand.
“And I’m Laurel. So, are you ready for this?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“Good, let’s move to my office, where we’re out of earshot of some of my more nosy employees.”
“Hey,” Piper retorted, “I don’t make up the gossip—I just report it.”
Emily and Laurel made small talk as they got some coffee and then settled into Laurel’s office.
“I’m afraid Piper is right about you being the talk of the town,” Laurel said.
Emily grinned crookedly and shrugged a shoulder. “That’s good. That means I’m doing my job.”
“Yes, and fortunately a good share of the chatter is due to the real reason that you’re here—and not because you were seen with Bering last night. Cam-Field’s presence here is causing quite a stir. I heard you knocked it out of the park at the Chamber of Commerce meeting. I’m sorry I missed it, but I read the minutes.”
“I think it went well. Better than I expected, although I thought I would be hearing a rebuttal from the opposing faction.”
“That surprised me, too, initially. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Bering isn’t one to waste his energy. He’s aware that a lot of this community counts on him and other members of the James family for their livelihoods—and most of those Chamber members know it, too.”
Emily furrowed her brow. “How do you mean?”
“You know what Bering does for a living, right?”
“Yes, but suddenly I’m getting the sense that maybe I didn’t realize the, uh, scope of his business?”
“I don’t know how many employees he has. But he has to have at least ten other guides besides himself in the summer and fall. And he has employees to haul and maintain equipment. He has a secretary who makes travel arrangements. He orders supplies from the businesses in town. The outdoor store alone must get half of their business from Bering and his clients. The bed-and-breakfast and the Faraway Inn basically exist because of his business. His cousin Shay owns the inn and I don’t know how many people she employs. Do you see where I’m going here? The clientele that he has are worth serious money and they have important connections. I’m talking about businesspeople and politicians, even some professional athletes, musicians and movie stars.
“They come to Rankins—sometimes with their families and friends—and they drop big bucks here. I don’t know the numbers but it has to be a significant industry for this town.”
Emily was annoyed with herself. How could she have not seen this sooner? The circumstances that had impulsively brought her here were no longer a viable excuse. She prided herself on being good at her job, had even bragged to Bering about it. She hadn’t done her usual meticulous homework and it was clearly catching up with her, certainly where Bering was concerned.
Laurel continued, “The James family is one of the oldest and the largest in the community. By and large, they are wealthy, educated and close-knit. They are also down-to-earth, unpretentious and extremely generous—with their time and money. As I’m sure you can imagine, all of these things add up to make them very popular around here.”
Emily thought fast. She may be slightly behind the curve, but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t faced before. A healthy industry wasn’t anything compared to the millions that Cam-Field would bring into this community. In her experience, money talked, and as long as folks were willing to compromise, it usually spoke the loudest.
“I can see I’ve caught you off guard. So, why don’t you give me an interview? Something personal—let the community get to know you, too?”
“Probably,” Emily answered with a slow nod. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“You mean you want to wait to see how badly I’m going to skew things?” Laurel’s expression took on a shrewd look as she added, “I have a master’s degree in jou
rnalism from Columbia, Emily. I can assure you that I know how to be objective.”
“You know, I have to ask, what in the world are you doing here in Rankins, Alaska?”
Laurel grinned at that and said, “I take it you’re not exactly enamored of our quaint village yet?”
Emily didn’t respond.
“You know...it’s not as small as it seems.”
“What do you mean?”
“The town of Rankins seems small, but the outlying area contains a pretty healthy number of people. There are ten members on our town council for a reason. And unlike a lot of places, they listen to their constituents. With few exceptions, the vote will go the way of the people.”
That much Emily did know from the standard basic research Cam-Field staff had done prior to her arrival. It seemed Rankins was the hot spot for miles in any one direction.
“I’ve gathered that much,” Emily said.
Laurel nodded. “And even though the area is large geographically, Rankins is the only town supporting this entire area. That’s why we have as many businesses as we do. We also have our own airport, post office and police department, and other entities that you would only find in larger cities. They might be small, but we have them. That makes us both self-sufficient and reliant on one another.”
Bering had relayed some of the same information, albeit in a less...academic tone.
“There is a surprising amount of diversity among the people, too. And people here—they just have their priorities straight, you know what I mean? I’m warning you, Emily, it will grow on you if you’re not careful.”
“I can see what you mean,” she lied smoothly. In spite of her gradual thawing toward Bering, she felt no warmth toward the town.
Laurel grinned and Emily suspected she could see right through her. “You’re certainly diplomatic, aren’t you?”
“I have to be, to be successful at this job.”
“I get that. So before you do agree to an interview with me, I should warn you that I am even closer to the James family than most.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve known Bering James my entire life, and his sister, Janie, is one of my best friends. She actually works here part-time.”
Emily nodded, not having a clue where this conversation was now headed. “You went to school together?”
“Yes, we did. But it goes much deeper than that. Our families have been friends since our grandparents’ days. We are tied together in complex ways. So I’m just going to offer one piece of advice, if that’s okay?”
“Certainly,” she said.
“He’s not as...simple as he appears.”
Emily thought that was an odd statement. She already knew Bering was about as far from simple as a man could get. She supposed she meant that he was educated like she was and more sophisticated than his provincial appearance. And the priority thing definitely seemed true where Bering was concerned. You couldn’t have a conversation with him without him voicing his love and appreciation for his family.
“Bering is a good friend and a good man. His family has been wonderful to Piper and me. If it hadn’t been for the James family, I would have lost her.”
“Lost her? What do you mean?”
“To shorten a very long story...I was only sixteen when our mom left us. We never knew our dad. The state wanted to put Piper in foster care, but some very strategic strings were pulled and I got to keep her. I’m not giving you a sob story, because it worked out great for us. I’m only telling you this because I don’t want you to underestimate them.”
“But if you’re that close to them, it seems like you would want me to underestimate them,” Emily countered.
“I won’t lie—I considered that, but the simple truth is that I would like to see some development in this town. The fishing industry isn’t what it used to be, and while I’m not entirely sure Cam-Field is the answer that we need, I am willing to hear your proposal before I decide one way or another.”
Emily considered her words. “Thank you, I appreciate that. I could really use the cooperation of the media. I certainly haven’t gotten a lot of cooperation anywhere else.”
Laurel chuckled. “This is a town overflowing with community pride and cohesiveness. To anyone who has lived anywhere else, it might seem over-the-top, but to the people here it’s a way of life.”
“I’ve seen a bit of that already.”
Laurel grinned knowingly. Then she leaned forward and cradled her chin in the palm of her hand. “Now, when do I get that interview?”
“You’ve got it,” Emily promised, “but not quite yet, if that’s okay. Right now I’d like to submit a response letter to the one you published yesterday. I’m sure you can guess which one I’m referring to.” Emily handed it over and Laurel took it and read it quickly, going back, Emily noticed, to a couple key paragraphs.
She finally looked up and studied Emily carefully. “Are you sure about this?”
“I am.”
She tipped her head and smiled at Emily. “Maybe Bering and his coalition are the ones I should be warning.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“‘AND SO I ASK YOU, Mr. James,’” Amanda read aloud from Emily’s article in the next morning’s paper, “‘just what exactly is it that you’re afraid of? Is it the scary influx of much-needed money into the economy? Is it the threatening number of high-paying jobs that will help prevent the young people of Rankins from moving out of this community like they’ve been doing for the last decade at an ever-increasing rate? Or is it the terrifying fact that Rankins may get an updated hospital with state-of-the-art equipment and skilled doctors who know how to use such high-tech lifesaving machines?’”
She whistled through her teeth. “Wow. Okay. Em, this is really good.” Amanda had come over from next door to have coffee with Emily before they headed to work together. Now she walked into the kitchen to pour herself another cup. “This is definitely going to stir the pot, so to speak.”
Emily called the office and checked the messages. They’d been bombarded with calls from supporters, and she knew that when she checked the email it would undoubtedly be the same. There’d been quite a few in opposition also, but not nearly as many as she’d feared.
“Twenty-nine messages,” she said, pacing back and forth in front of Amanda, “eighteen in support, nine against and two incoherent, but which I’m pretty sure from the tone are against.”
Progress, she decided; it was definitely progress. And that was what she wanted. She should be happy, so why did she feel so fidgety and anxious?
“Emily, this is brilliant.” Amanda sat on the sofa and continued reading. “Seriously, this is some of your best work. I mean, pushing the tender buttons of patriotism, which, I’ve noticed, are running rampant here in Rankins?”
“You don’t think that’s overdoing it? Making it too political?”
“Absolutely not, and there are a surprising number of intellectuals in this community, and I think they’re going to appreciate that you’re not being condescending to them.”
Emily was silent.
“Emily,” Amanda said, obviously sensing her unease, “you just listened to the messages. You’re already turning things around.”
“I know, and that’s great, but...”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Bering, would it?”
Emily sank down onto the sofa. “Is it that obvious?”
“Well, you did eat fish, Emily.”
“Do you think he’s going to hate me now?” She covered her face with one hand and groaned. “Now I sound like a fifteen-year-old. What is wrong with me?”
Amanda took a second to laugh. “You didn’t hate him after his article. He’s not stupid. He had to be expecting some kind of rebuttal.”
And that was exactly it. Now Emily was going to be expecting something in return. The thought was both nerve-racking and kind of exciting at the same time. And how was she supposed to act now? The idea that they could carry on a friendship or
whatever in the midst of this turmoil with Cam-Field suddenly seemed even more ridiculous than it already had. The ringing doorbell startled her out of her reverie.
Amanda jumped up. “I’ll get it.” She opened the door to find an envelope sitting on the step. “I hope it’s nothing gruesome,” she said. She bent and picked it up by one corner and carried it toward Emily. She stopped in front of the sofa and lifted it to her ear. “It’s not ticking, so that’s a good sign.”
She set it down on the coffee table in front of them. They stared at it for a few seconds and then, in unison, sat back on the soft cushions. Emily knew they were both thinking about the time they’d received the dead bird. While on a job in Oklahoma, some sicko had broken its neck, tied a noose around it and sent it to them as some kind of warning.
Emily picked up the envelope. She opened it and saw what looked like a brochure tucked inside. She pulled it out and began reading aloud, “‘Stop by and get the real story. Please join the Save Rankins Coalition at their free halibut fish-and-chips booth this Saturday at the winter festival. Information will be available about the true and terrible impact that Cam-Field Oil & Mineral will have on our town. A raffle to benefit our cause will also be held with prizes, including...’” Emily’s voice trailed off and she turned toward Amanda, whose stunned look had to match her own.
“What the...?”
Emily shifted the paper and saw that there was a handwritten note: “‘Emily, please stop by and I’ll treat you to some more halibut, unless of course hot dogs are more your thing? Hope to see you there, Bering.’”
“Amanda, you didn’t say anything to Tag about our hot-dog booth, right?”
“Emily, no, absolutely not. I only made calls to Glacier City. I arranged for everything to be delivered early Saturday morning, so it’s not even like someone could have seen something...”
For the first time since this battle had begun, Emily felt her temper stir in earnest. How in the world had he discovered this? She was going to look like an idiot passing out hot dogs next to his fish-and-chips. She tamped down her angst and tried to think. It was very well played; she had to give him that. Except for this little dose of braggadocio that he hadn’t been able to resist... Because, as Franklin had taught her, and any good general knew, you never revealed your battle strategy before the battle was fought.