Safe.
She remembered feeling that way kneeling with Granny in the hospital waiting room earlier—secure. Protected. Like everything really, truly was going to be all right.
“Thank you, Josh,” she said, looking at him. “For believing in me. For making me own up to my worries and my instincts about Devon. For making me feel … worth it.”
She touched his arm again, felt a little buzz when her fingers met his bare skin. “I want to be worth it. I’m new at all this belief stuff,” she waved a hand, “but I’m learning. Learning quick.”
His lips curved. “Does that mean you’ll finally take me up on my Bible study invitation?”
She laughed. “Yes. I’d love to.”
His eyes were warm as they gazed at her. “I’m glad. And for the record?” His voice grew soft, and he looked straight into her eyes like he was seeing the real Rebecca, no walls, no façade, no mask. “You’re definitely worth it.”
And they pushed open the door and stepped into Memaw’s room for a long-overdue introduction.
CHAPTER 43
Rebecca
Buck McCafferty called Rebecca’s cell phone early Saturday morning. She took the call on the back porch, looking out at Granny’s neat rows of tomato plants, which had managed to survive the storm.
“I’m guessing a call on a Saturday morning isn’t going to bode well,” she told the newspaper owner as she took a seat at the patio table. Granny was already up and gone, prepping the lunch at church for the storm cleanup crew. Rebecca planned to join them at ten after a quick visit to the Bryants to see Devon.
Buck sighed. “Rebecca, the numbers just aren’t there. We’re still a few months shy of the deadline we gave you, but Stuart and I think it’s time to start talking more realistically, considering ways to gracefully close the newspaper, maybe even merge with a paper nearby.”
“I imagine you’ve been talking with W Media.”
“Them, yes, and the Charlotte paper is very interested—and they’re willing to pay big bucks, even keep you all on as staff.”
That was news. “Only I’m guessing they want a cookie cutter version of their own paper, but with a Dahlia stamp on it.”
Buck was quiet a moment. “That’s about the long and short of it.”
Rebecca pursed her lips. “If our readers didn’t like the hard news I was bringing them, they’re certainly not going to like what the Charlotte paper serves.”
“Well, W Media only wants you, which means the rest of the staff would be out of a job, plus they’re not offering enough.”
She pressed her lips together. Tiff would be fine, and Dinah could find work in sales about anywhere. But Millie? Rebecca shook her head.
“They both sound like lose-lose situations if you ask me.” She stretched her legs, gazed out at the garden. “Buck, I don’t get it—numbers are decent. Both circulation and advertising. Granted, only five percent, but that’s still a gain. We’re making money. Why are you so quick to bail out?”
“Truth?” Buck huffed out a breath. “Stuart doesn’t have a heart for this anymore, and I don’t have the capital to go it alone. That, and with my new grandbabies, I don’t want to spend the best of my golden years slaving over a dying newspaper. Not to put too fine a point on it.”
She thought a moment, the idea beginning to build. “What if you had a different partner?”
“Meaning?”
It had come to her in a dream last night, more like a vision where she saw herself and Buck in the newsroom, Millie and Dinah and Tiff before them, all smiling. Devon had ridden by in the dream on his bike, a brand new blue one, ringing his little bike bell. It was a wild idea, and risky. But maybe. Just maybe.
“Meaning, if I found you a new partner, an equal partner, a committed publisher/co-owner who’d front not only the money but the lion’s share of the time, do you think Stuart would consider selling out his share and you’d stay on as partial owner?”
“You?” She could almost hear the wheels begin to turn in his head. “That’s not a bad possibility.”
She had a bit of money set aside, investments she’d let sit during the recession that were now beginning to turn around. She was still young enough that she could afford to gamble it all and still build a nice nest egg for the future if everything were lost.
It was a huge leap of faith, but suddenly, it made perfect sense. And after what had happened with Devon, it didn’t feel like so much of a leap but rather a step in the right direction.
A step toward faith.
