by Emma Miller
Marisol paused, black eyes gone wide, cookie in midair. “Abuelita already? When did it happen?”
“No, no. Eric’s only thirteen.” Lana brushed a hand across her forehead, as if the thought pained her. “My son’s a great kid, but let’s give him a few more years. Like ten or so.”
“Ah, well, I am sure you will have many babies to cuddle.” She said this like a benediction, her dark brown hand lifted toward Lana.
“Thank you, Marisol. I can’t imagine how wonderful it will be. But you’re closer to that than I am.” Lana’s face crinkled in a smile, and both women sighed happily.
“You’re waiting for a new grandbaby?” Gavin wished he had a cheat sheet for the Mission staff and their families.
“Calista is having her baby soon. Very soon.” The older woman put a hand on her heart and closed her eyes. “Dios le bendiga. We must pray for her.”
Gavin glanced at Evie and grinned. He’d seen Calista, and the woman was as white as they came. And Grant, with his tall frame and blue eyes, was probably not related to Marisol, either. He was getting the full picture of this place and it was all about family, but not the kind he’d known.
The seriousness of what he’d seen this morning in the neonatal critical care unit intruded on his thoughts. He reached for his keys. “It was a wonderful party, but I’d better go.”
“Anything we can do, Gavin? Is the office running twenty-four hours?” Lana turned, concern lining her face.
“We are. Just keep trying to get the word out. We’re racing to stay ahead of the outbreak, but...” His voice trailed off and he could feel Evie watching him. It was the stuff of nightmares, his very worst fear, that his city would be hit with a disease he couldn’t control. That more families would suffer like Patrick’s had.
Lana reached up and squeezed his hand, sympathy written large on her features. “We’re praying.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude swelled in him. “And I’ll see you on Tuesday.”
“What’s on Tuesday?” Jack mumbled through a mouthful of cookie.
“Gavin’s helping set up a soccer league for the kids.”
“Overachiever. Now I suppose I have to volunteer for that, too.” He pretended to huff, but Gavin knew he lived for sports, any sports.
“Actually, I need another coach. So, yes, you do.” He was already heading for the door. “Be there at six.” He let his gaze wander to Evie, just for a moment. When their eyes met, he felt a tug deep inside that had nothing to do with the finance board or coaching and everything to do with the fact she was a beautiful woman who had a smile that took his breath away.
A second later, Grant pushed through the far door, his phone clutched to his ear. The director’s tie was crooked and he was running one hand through his dark hair. “Yes, yes! I’ll be right there!”
The four of them froze in shock, watching the normally calm man snap closed the phone and take two steps forward. And then two more. He looked like he was sleepwalking, except for the wide-eyed expression.
“Grant, honey.” Lana’s calm voice cut across the lobby. “Are you okay?”
He looked up, a huge smile on his face. “It’s time! She’s already at the hospital!”
Gavin and Jack exchanged looks. Uh-oh. Looked like the dad-to-be was having a mental breakdown before he even got to the labor room.
“Why don’t we have someone take you over?” Gavin walked back across the lobby, holding out one hand to Grant like a lion tamer approaching a wild beast.
“He’s right. Let me get someone to cover the desk and we can take my car.” Lana rolled out from behind the desk and was heading toward the office doors. She punched in the code and hit the blue button that opened it automatically. “I’ll grab our coats.” And she was gone before he could answer.
“How long has she been in labor?” Gavin wasn’t an expert, but Calista was probably going to take a while.
“Twenty minutes. She just checked in. She didn’t want to interrupt our party if it was nothing.” Grant shook his head, dark hair falling over his forehead. “She sounded so calm. I wonder if they already gave her drugs. She said she didn’t want any.”
“Hmm. Sometimes they can be helpful.” Gavin led Grant toward the desk, one hand on his shoulder.
“Especially for the dads,” Jack murmured and Evie tried not to giggle.
Gavin glanced up, eyes creased with mirth. Their gazes locked and he watched her lips curve up at the corners.
Lana wheeled herself back through the door, her coat draped around her shoulders, purse on her lap. “Eric just left. Michelle and the child care folks helped the parents take the kids back to the family area. I’ve called a few more people.” She looked at Gavin and he nodded.
“Don’t worry. I’ll man the desk. Good thing you showed me the switchboard in case of emergencies.”
“Emergency? There’s no problem. I can drive,” Grant said.
Three of them spoke at once. “No, Lana should drive.”
Grant looked from one to the next, then grinned. “Okay, Lana can drive. Let’s go!”
And then they were gone, with only a cold gust of icy wind as a farewell.
Gavin walked behind the desk and slipped off his jacket. A new life, a precious gift to the mission family. “I was afraid we were going to have to take his keys.”
“Too excited to drive,” Evie agreed.
“Well, I’d better get. I’ve got a ski date early tomorrow morning.” Jack was already heading toward the door.
“Same girl as before? The bank teller?” Evie sounded hopeful.
“Who? Oh, right. No, she didn’t like to go out and do anything. Sort of a homebody.” Jack shrugged, as if that said it all. And it sort of did. Jack was all about the going and doing.
Evie looked at Gavin. “Won’t you need someone else here?”
He didn’t look up from the switchboard but poked a few buttons and frowned. “I’m sure someone will be here in a few minutes. They have staffers everywhere.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look toward the office doors, then the deserted lobby. Okay, so maybe there weren’t staffers everywhere. But they would come, and he wasn’t really certain about hanging out with Evie.
“I’ll just wait until someone else arrives.”
Emotions flashed through him. Concern, relief, dread. The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, the air smelled like cookies, and the excitement of a new life hung over them like a blessing. It was the perfect opportunity to get to know her better—something he was determined to avoid.
Chapter Three
Gavin could feel the heat at the back of his neck as he stared at the switchboard. It seemed to have at least a hundred more buttons than the day Lana walked him through the system. But this was what the Mission needed right now, so he was going to sit behind the desk and answer the phone. At least until someone else got there, and he prayed that would be soon.
“You really don’t have to stay.” He tried to keep his tone even, but the focus of the gorgeous brunette with the bright blue eyes was almost as unnerving as the switchboard panel. The way she laughed with Marisol, held a little girl’s hand and sang carols with Lana told him this wasn’t the gossip-hungry editor he’d imagined. She radiated energy, as if she was plugged directly into a current. He shouldn’t have been surprised, since she was Jack’s twin, but he hadn’t expected her to be so...vibrant. Quiet, yes. Jack had mentioned that part. But not this live wire of a personality.
“Not a problem. It’s not going to interfere with my social life to stay here a little longer.” She smiled then and he was glad he was sitting down. Perfect, matching dimples. And that was a definite reference to the lack of a boyfriend. He sat up a little straighter, needing to remember who she was and what she did. A journalist was not his type. The very oppo
site of his type, really.
There was a small pause, and then she seemed to make a decision. “So, did you and Jack meet here at the Mission?”
“No, up on the mountain. I pulled him out of a drift when he went off-trail last spring.” Gavin shook his head at the memory. Crazy guy could have died that way, upside down in ten feet of snow.
“He never told me that.”
“Probably didn’t want to worry you.”
She laughed and the sound made him smile without his permission. “No, he loves to worry me. More likely he was embarrassed at having pulled a less-than-stellar move.”
“You don’t ski?” Maybe she did and he just hadn’t noticed her under a ski hat, ski suit and goggles. No. He was pretty sure he would have noticed her even under all that. She sure looked like she spent time at the gym. Then he realized he was giving her an extended once-over and dropped his gaze.
“Not my thing. In fact, exercise and I have an awkward relationship. On-again, off-again, depending on the number of cookies I need to burn.” She shrugged one shoulder.
It was as if his mouth had declared independence from his brain. He needed to stop asking questions and pray a call came in. “Well, if you ever feel the need for more commitment, we could go snowboarding for the day. I’ll even let Jack come along.” Was he flirting with her? What was wrong with him? Gavin wished he was alone so he could give himself a punch in the arm.
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just smiled at him as if he’d said something cute. “Does your family live around here?”
Reality check. “Yes. My grandmother lives here, and my sister and her little boy are moving here next week.”
She leaned forward, interest shining from those bright blue eyes. “Younger or older sister?”
“Allison is four years younger.” And you don’t want to know the rest of the story on my prodigal sister, so don’t ask. Then again, as a newspaper editor, she just might. They were all about dishing the dirt.
“My cousin has a little boy. We can arrange a playdate at the park if she wants. Moving is hard on kids.”
Moving was extra hard on a kid who didn’t really have any place to call home. But he was ready to change all that, if Allison would let him. Sean would love to make some friends. He nodded. “That would be great.”
There was a beat or two and then he said, “Hey, I’m sure someone will be here soon. I feel bad about you wasting your time.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she glanced around the deserted lobby. “True, it’s pretty slow right now.”
The far door that led to the offices opened with a bang and Jose strode through. His hair was cut short, red polo and khakis neatly pressed. Except for the massive multi-colored tattoos covering each arm from wrist to biceps, he looked like your middle-management employee. His name tag bounced as he advanced on them, expression intense.
“Did I hear that right? Calista’s in labor?” His Mayan features were lit up with excitement.
“Sure is. Grant left a few minutes ago.”
“And you let him drive?” Jose raised both hands in a “what’s up” gesture.
“No, Lana took him over.”
Jose relaxed against the desk, a smile creasing his face for the first time. “Good thing. When my wife had her baby last year, I almost wrecked the car and we only had to drive three blocks.”
“He didn’t look like he was fit to do much besides walk. Maybe not even that,” Gavin said, remembering Grant in the lobby, too excited to put one foot in front of the other.
“I’m Jose.” He seemed to notice Evie for the first time and put out a hand. Gavin watched her shake it and introduce herself. Her expression was friendly, her tone even, but Gavin had seen alarm pass over her face when Jose appeared. He was definitely scary-looking, but there wasn’t a man in this Mission who was more committed to peace.
“You must be tapped into the community if you’re heading The Chronicle. Best hometown paper we’ve ever had.”
Evie smiled that megawatt smile, both dimples making an appearance. Gavin could see the pride in her eyes.
Jose tapped a finger on the desk, thinking. “You and Gavin should work up something about the whooping cough epidemic. Last year we had a few cases, but this year they’ve already had seventeen. The babies get sick the worst. No fatalities yet, but there will be if people don’t get on board with the vaccinations.”
Gavin looked to her, suspecting she was already giving the idea a pass. Sure, the outbreak had his office going crazy, but that would be low priority at the paper.
“I was thinking the same thing when Jack told me you worked with the CDC, but I didn’t want to pressure you.” Evie was nodding at Gavin, as if this made perfect sense. “You need to get the word out, and we can help.”
He forced his face into something that he hoped passed for encouraging. She was right. But he wouldn’t be the one to walk into the lion’s den. Journalists were all the same. Drama for profit. There were real people suffering and they showcased it for greed. Gavin dropped his gaze to the desk, struggling to compose his thoughts. But babies would die without the information out there, so it didn’t matter what he felt about papers.
The large glass front doors opened and two women in red Mission jackets came into the lobby, probably Lana’s replacement.
He stood up and angled himself out of the desk chair. Thankfully nobody had called.
A young woman with a name tag and a long dark braid came toward the desk. “Jose, what’s going on? Lana said there was some sort of emergency?” She scowled, features twisted in surprise.
“Grant got a phone call, Lissa.” He waggled his eyebrows. The expression on the young woman’s face went from confusion and annoyance to all-out glee.
“No way!”
“Yes, way. But keep it on the down-low for now. She just got checked in.” Jose put his finger to his lips.
He couldn’t help laughing. He locked eyes with Evie and she was grinning from ear to ear. The joy was contagious. A baby was going to be born. The whole Mission was waiting for this baby. That was the way it should be, for every kid. Family and friends and well-wishers waiting to give a big welcome. He felt his smile fade a little. That’s not the way it was for Allison and Sean, for sure. There was no one to welcome him, to hold Allison’s hand. He hated that it had happened that way.
“Call me tomorrow about the article. We can get started on it right away.” Evie pulled her keys from her purse and gave a wave. A second later she was wading through the little kids, toward the middle of the lobby. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, and her steps were quick.
Gavin watched her for a moment, noting the glass doors and the darkness outside. Her keychain had been a tiny bottle of pepper spray. It was downtown Denver, not New York City. The sidewalk shone with fresh snow. People passed the Mission at a steady rate. There was no real reason to need an escort to the parking lot. And Grandma Lili would thump him if she found out any grandson of hers let a woman walk alone at night.
Gavin took a breath. “Hey, wait up a minute,” he called.
Evie turned, surprise on her face.
“Let me walk you to your car.” He slipped on his coat.
“You think I’m afraid of the dark?” She laughed up at him. The black of her coat hood contrasted with the pink in her cheeks, and her eyes sparked with interest. He dragged his gaze away.
“I’m sure you’re not.” He pulled on the long metal handle of the front door and held it open for her. “Better safe than sorry.”
He grimaced inwardly. That was his personal motto, would probably be written on his tombstone. Here lies Gavin, better safe than sorry. Just as soon as he walked Evie to her car, he’d go back to being safe, because was she the type of woman that promised a whole lot of sorry. Smart, sweet, funny...and tied to a newspap
er. Couldn’t get much further from safe than that. He had a lot on his plate without adding trouble to it. Now, if he could just remember that when he looked in those gorgeous blue eyes.
* * *
Evie walked out the doors of the Mission, and the cold cut through her wool coat like a knife. She shivered and hugged her arms to her chest. Being homeless was horrible, but being homeless in Denver in the winter was downright deadly.
She cut a glance at Gavin. His broad shoulders were hunched in his parka, his face set in a grim expression. She sighed inwardly. He obviously hadn’t offered to walk her to her car so they could chat. Evie appreciated the gesture, especially in this neighborhood. But she wouldn’t have minded if he wanted to get to know her even a little bit better.
“How long have you been on the finance board?” When in doubt, talk shop. Evie wasn’t any good at small talk, anyway.
“About five years. It’s been rough the past two, but things seem to be turning around.” He put out a hand and cupped her elbow as a group of ragged teens pushed past. Their raucous laughter echoed down the street.
“Do many public health disease specialists have experience in business?” She said it with a smile. So it was an awkward way to ask the question, but she was curious.
“Certainly not as much as running a paper would give me.”
She nodded. “Well, most of the profits from papers come from advertising, so I have to watch the business angle. We vet everything through our lawyers. We don’t want to tick off any deep pockets.” Evie said it matter-of-factly. Maybe he thought she sat at her desk and smoked cigars, yelling for the copy boys. “I think the pertussis article is important enough that we’ll make space, even if it means cutting out some fluff. The Chronicle is about informing and serving the community.”
Gavin stopped and turned to her, eyes intense on her face. He didn’t seem to notice the frigid December wind. “You’re saying the community comes first? That if you got a big story, a real shocker, you’d make sure it wouldn’t ruin anyone’s life before you ran it? If it was against your moral standards, it wouldn’t run, no matter how many copies it might sell?”