Season of Hope

by Virginia Carmichael

  Sean, who should have been welcomed into the world because he was innocent, was hidden away like a stain on the family honor. Gavin hadn’t even known Sean existed for a year. The thought of those missed moments, and of Allison’s broken heart, made him sick inside.

  “Gavin?” Evie was watching him, a question in her eyes.

  “Sorry, I was thinking.” About you and love and complications. He tried to catch up to the topic they’d been debating. He couldn’t let his feelings dictate his actions. That was for weaker men, men like McHale. Commitment and focus was his rule, because the world didn’t need more messy drama.

  * * *

  “It’s Friday. Go have some fun. You never take a day off.” Jack slouched in the chair across from Evie’s desk, feet propped on the corner of a cabinet. He sounded bored, which was his usual reaction to frustration. He’d spent the morning schmoozing new clients.

  “If I did, I wouldn’t spend it snowboarding.” Evie shuffled papers and tried to ignore her brother’s annoying presence. He’d had only one meeting today and the rest of the day was free. That’s what happened when you were a figurehead and not a real manager. He knew it. She knew it. They didn’t really talk about it.

  “Do you even know how to take the day off? Or would you end up back here, sorting through stories and fighting with the lawyers?”

  Evie rubbed her temples and tried to beat back the angry words that swirled in her head. Jack was acting like she didn’t want to have a life. She did. It just didn’t include acting like a teenager. She wanted to do something real.

  There was a light knock on the door and Amy Morket popped into view. Evie was fairly sure what was going to come out of Amy’s mouth in the next few seconds.

  It was a surprise she’d gone most of the morning without bumping into the overeager reporter. Working dynamics were complicated, especially where women were concerned. A woman who took charge was labeled differently than a man who had initiative. But Amy grated on her nerves. She was always nosing into stories that were assigned to more senior reporters. Where Jolie was bright and tough, Amy was sly and determined.

  “Ms. Thorne, I’ve heard there was a lot of trouble with the sweatshop story. I think I could help out, if you’d let me in on it. I could go undercover.”

  Evie wanted to drop her head to the desk. Amy had dark hair but ivory skin that paired perfectly with her bright blue eyes. She was going to infiltrate a slave labor ring that shuttled groups of South American aliens from warehouse to warehouse? It would have been laughable if it wasn’t such a terrible idea.

  “We’re working on it. We’ve got source issues. When it’s back on the front burner, I’ll let you know.”

  “I have lots of contacts. I hear rumors.” Amy leveled a gaze at Evie and narrowed her eyes. One manicured hand on her slim hip, shoes that cost more than the normal weekly take at The Chronicle, and Amy was probably the last person to hear rumors about slave labor. But Evie wondered what she could have been hearing. She cut her eyes to Jack, who shrugged.

  “What kind of rumors?”

  Amy’s eyes widened. “Does this mean I’m on the story?”

  “No, it means if you have something helpful, we could see if it will save the story.”

  Amy looked like she was deliberating. “I’ll write up what I know and send you an email.”

  “Okay, that’s fine.” Evie gave her a smile and waited for the door to close. Then she waited another few beats. “What do you think she knows?” she asked Jack softly.

  “When all the big sales are scheduled. She has nice shoes. And legs.”

  Evie rolled her eyes. That story was on hold, and it made her angry that they couldn’t run something that would save people from modern-day slavery.

  “She sort of reminds me of you.”

  “Excuse me?” Evie tried to put all her umbrage into two words.

  “I don’t know what it is. Her drive, maybe.” Jack was staring at the door, frowning.

  She wanted to protest but felt the uncomfortable brush of the ugly truth. Amy was driven, just like she had been. No matter the cost, she was going to be successful.

  Shaking off the thought, Evie rubbed her eyes. “I just want to do something real. I’m tired of stumping for advertising dollars.”

  “Real? Everything you print is real.” Her brother paused, choosing his words carefully. “I think you’re overcompensating. You made bad choices, repented, changed your life and bought The Chronicle. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun once in a while. Plus, nobody even reads papers anymore. If you really want to do some good, you need to get an online presence.”

  “You call it overcompensation and I call it doing something worthwhile. And we’re working on the online subscription system.” They’d told her it would be up by the end of the month. She hoped they could hold out that long. If the paper lost many more subscribers, she wouldn’t have to argue whether running so many community service articles was overcompensating or not because there wouldn’t be any articles at all.

  She rubbed her temples. The hum of the enormous machines running thirty feet of newsprint a minute echoed through the floor below. Of course she could do good in the world without a paper, but this was what she did best. God knew her strengths and weaknesses, and this paper was a weapon she could wield against poverty and injustice. As long as she could keep it running.

  “Good. You can’t afford to ignore the internet.” He sat forward, eyes somber. “Seriously, Evie. I don’t want to see you beat yourself up about a few mistakes made a really long time ago. I think if you weren’t still holding on to guilt, you’d be away from this desk a lot more.”

  “I know that I can’t fix what I’ve done with a few columns.” How ridiculous to think she could. “But I’m not working from a place of unresolved guilt. I just don’t want to waste any more time.”

  “Do you ever think you’ll miss something important by working all the time?” His voice was quiet. The afternoon light from the large window put half his face into shadow, sharpening his features. “I just don’t want you to miss your chance at happiness.”

  She felt her eyebrows rise. “Do I only get one? Why the sudden philosophical bent?”

  “I’ve been thinking about things.”

  Uh-oh. So, it wasn’t just her that had a revelation while holding Gabriel. “Things?”

  “Specifically, my present employment.”

  Jack, groomed from birth to take over the family business and shuttled off to business school, rethinking his job? “Colorado Supplements would survive without you.”

  “Of course they would. I don’t really do anything. But Dad might never forgive me.”

  The sound of the busy newsroom faded away as Evie waited in the moment. She’d never believed it would come. “You have to be true to your purpose in life.”

  He looked up, eyes bright. “Exactly. I’ve let myself live a life that was designed for someone else. That’s like a slap in the face to God, don’t you think?”

  She nodded, her breath tight in her chest. She knew exactly what that type of life felt like.

  “I want to be who I was meant to be.”

  “And who is that?”

  He sat back with a sigh. “I have no idea. But you know, I’ll figure it out.”

  Evie nodded, eyes moist. “I’m proud of you. Have I said that recently?”

  He grinned over at her, his usual teasing tone back in evidence. “Not recently. But that’s gonna change.”

  She tried to wipe the tear from her cheek without being too obvious. Was there anything more powerful than watching a person embrace their calling? Jack wasn’t sure what his was, yet, but he was willing to be led wherever God wanted him to go.

  “Now that I’ve made you cry, I should say something to make you mad. It will be just like ol
d times.” He put a finger to his chin and pretended to be deep in thought. “How’s Gavin? Seen him lately?”

  Evie rolled her eyes and pretended to straighten papers. Why did the phone ring all day long until this conversation? And where were all her reporters?

  “He’s got a thing for you.”

  Evie snorted. “He’s got a thing for the paper. We’re working on a series about the pertussis outbreak.”

  “And you don’t feel anything for him?”

  Evie felt her mouth drop open. Jack wasn’t one to ask about feelings. “I’m not sure what to say. There are feelings and then there is something that has an actual chance at surviving the reality we live in.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” Jack’s voice held no hint of sarcasm or teasing. In fact, he was deadly serious.

  She’d know if she had been, right? “I don’t think so.”

  “A few years ago you said there wasn’t a man in Denver you’d really consider.”

  Evie knew what he was saying; she’d felt it herself. Gavin was different. But she was afraid to hope, afraid to say anything in case it all crumbled to dust.

  “I think there’s one that deserves a second look.”

  “I’m not sure what I feel. Maybe it’s something important and I’m going to miss my one chance. Or just maybe it’s that he’s a disease specialist and he’s infected us with something horrible and we’re all going to die.”

  Her brother dropped his feet to the floor with a bang. “You’re the most unromantic person I’ve ever known.”

  “I don’t really have the time to be romantic.” She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice but couldn’t quite manage it.

  “Maybe you should make some time.”

  She glared at him, weighing her words. The door cracked open and Jolie stuck her head inside. “Sorry to interrupt. You’ve got someone coming from the Downtown Association in ten minutes.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” Evie gave her a smile and tried to ignore Jolie’s obvious appreciation for Jack’s backside as he stood up, stretching his arms over his head.

  “Later, little sis.” He leaned over the desk, dropped a kiss on her head and went to open the office door. “And where love is concerned, you better trust me.”

  He passed through the door and Jolie reappeared. “Safe to come in?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” Evie sat up straight and pretended like she wasn’t absolutely rattled. Jack was going to quit their family business. He’d given her a speech on getting a life. He said she needed to give Gavin more than a passing glance. As if she could help it.

  “Usually I hear you two laughing up a storm in here. Today was...quiet.” Jolie dropped into the chair across the desk, a folder on her lap, fluffy neon pink skirt in sharp contrast with her black-and-white-striped T-shirt, lime-green tights and black Converse shoes.

  “Well, we were just disagreeing on a course of action. And he doesn’t like it when I disagree.” She said the words lightly, as if it didn’t matter what her twin thought.

  “It’s about that vaccine guy, Gavin, isn’t it? Is Jack getting overprotective? Wants to run him over with his car?”

  Evie let out a startled laugh. “Why would you ever think that?”

  “I finally outsmarted Miss Observant, didn’t I?”

  “It’s not what you think. It sort of concerns him, but not the way you’re implying.” Oh, boy, Evie was digging a hole.

  “Uh-huh. A gorgeous man shows up here, there are all sorts of sparks flying around, and then Jack’s unhappy? It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

  “It’s too complicated to explain. And I don’t know where you get the sparks part because you saw him for about four seconds when he came through the newsroom.”

  “Which was three seconds more than I needed. I may be a lot younger than you, Ms. Thorne, but I can definitely tell when a man is interested.” She sighed. “Which is a horrible burden to bear when you realize your crush isn’t into you. Jack didn’t even stop to chat on his way out.”

  Evie offered up a short prayer of thanks for that one. She thought Jolie was wonderful, but Jack really didn’t need a nineteen-year-old girlfriend.

  “Anyway, here’s the next set of ad mockups for the Sunday inserts.” She stood up, handing the folder to Evie.

  “Jolie, you always do such a great job. I don’t know where this office would be without you.”

  “A lot slower and a lot less interesting.” She grinned on her way out the door.

  Chapter Seven

  Gavin paced back and forth near the bench. It was a park playdate on a normal Saturday afternoon, nothing to be nervous about. He couldn’t help glancing at the parking area every few seconds. Evie said her cousin was blonde and had a little boy Sean’s age. They were fifteen minutes late. Allison didn’t seem to mind, but he desperately wanted them to see Denver as a friendly, welcoming city. Being stood up for their first playdate didn’t fit that picture.

  Of course, a lot of people ran late. Or maybe the cousin forgot. It wasn’t personal, these things happened.

  But if felt personal. He shouldn’t even be here with the office running twenty-four hours. He should be checking on the lab, meeting up with the hospital emergency-room doctors, something other than hanging out in a park on a Saturday.

  The article had run in last week’s Sunday edition, and the office had been flooded with calls for pertussis boosters on Monday. And Tuesday. And every day after. That was a small measure of success.

  He hadn’t heard anything from McHale’s office on whether the article was sufficiently slanted to positively reflect on the office. He didn’t want to call and find out. He battled back a surge of anger at the thought of the office conversation. He hadn’t said anything to Allison. She didn’t need the anxiety. At least Evie’s columnist had made it seem effortlessly connected, a human interest story on the epidemic and the hardworking CDC officials.

  He stared out at the playground teeming with kids. Spin was second nature to reporters. They seemed to handle the truth like it was something to craft, to mold into whatever image they wanted to portray. He couldn’t imagine living like that, day in and day out. Evie was different and sometimes he got the faintest flash of sadness in her eyes. That didn’t jibe with his idea of journalists. Arrogant and pushy, maybe. Ready to sell their souls for a buck, definitely. A heart for social justice and an active concern for vulnerable people of the city, not at all.

  Sean yelled and waved from the top of the slide and Gavin raised an arm, grinning. Evie was young to be a full-fledged editor, and an owner. Even a small paper in bankruptcy must have cost an enormous amount. Maybe she’d taken an early inheritance. He shrugged inside his coat, irritated with himself for wondering. It wasn’t any of his business, really. He railed against gossips, but sometimes his own curiosity brought him just as low.

  There was a touch at his elbow and he sucked in a breath of surprise. Evie had come up from behind him, cheeks pink from the cold, breath coming fast. For a moment, his mind went completely blank. He forgot about the playdate, about being welcoming. He wanted to put his hands to her face and drag her perfect lips to his. He stepped back, instead of the direction he wanted to go.

  “I’m so sorry, they can’t come. Stacey had her baby!” She was smiling widely, and she put her hand on his arm.

  “Wonderful! Everyone healthy?”

  “Perfect. He was early, but he’s just fine. I saw them a few hours ago. I was going to bring Jaden to play, but he was absorbed in watching the baby. Do you think your nephew will be too disappointed?”

  “He’ll be fine. We can reschedule.” He wanted to tuck the wisp of dark hair into her hood, but didn’t. He also wanted to introduce her to Allison. His head was telling him to keep them apart, but his heart said Evie wasn’t a
danger. She was solid, faithful. He took a breath. “Do you want to meet them?”

  “Sure.” Evie smiled, both dimples showing. “Oh, before I forget, Jack says ‘hi’ and something about...”

  “About?” he prompted.

  “There were cords on the cheese wedge, I think it was.”

  His expression cleared. “Oh, okay.”

  “And that means something to you?”

  “Sure. Snowboarder lingo. But I can’t tell you what it means or I’d have to teach you the secret handshake, too.”

  “Fine. I didn’t want to be part of your little club anyway.”

  His smile deepened and he held her gaze for longer than could be considered necessary. The world had shrunk until they were the only two in it.

  “So, are you going to point them out or should I try to guess?”

  “I suppose you could try.” Gavin crossed his arms over his chest. He tilted his head at what seemed like hordes of small kids each running in different directions. “In fact, I’d like to see it.”

  “Challenge accepted.” She narrowed her eyes and scanned the playground.

  Gavin watched her from the corner of his eye. It felt so right to stand here with her on a Saturday, surrounded by families. In fact, it felt right to have her by his side wherever they were. Lord, if this isn’t what You want, tell me, because I want to go with my heart.

  * * *

  She gave him a mock salute with one blue mittened hand and scanned the playground. That smile always gave her courage; she wasn’t sure why. Courage to flirt, to tease. Totally unlike her. It would be scary if it didn’t feel so right. The top of his coat was unzipped and she could see his tie was crooked, which gave her a jolt of pleasure at the familiar sight. Evie gave him a quick once-over and told herself not to gawk. Dark blond hair peeked out from under a dark knit hat, just a hint of stubble, brown eyes intent on her.