“And it will be done. On time.” She bit back the urge to tell him how lucky it was for the paper that Logan agreed at all, even if she was a little peeved at him for interfering in her life. Hewasentitled to his privacy if that’s what he wanted. “I want to discuss a different one, for the back section. It’s already written. An article about the Andersons’ horse camp.”
Vince let out a heavy sigh as he dropped into his cushioned office chair. “We already discussed this. It’s not a newsworthy story people want to read.”
“It’s exactly the kind of story people want to read.” She tensed. Why did these things always mean going to battle with her uncle? “It’s a feel-good story about overcoming obstacles and creating something wonderful. Their ranch was going into foreclosure, but they saved it by turning it into what it is today. They create memories for the kids who go there. I even have testimonials.”
Vince looked at her as if to ask,You done?“No.”
Her fists balled at her sides as she tried—oh, she tried—to take a couple deep breaths and calm down. But inside, her temper raged. “Is this because they didn’t buy an ad?”
“Of course not.” But he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“I understand ads are important to the bottom line, but—”
“I don’t think you do understand, Abigail. You know nothing about the financials of running a newspaper office.”
It took everything in her not to shout at Vince, because she very much wanted to yell,You won’t teach me!But she knew she’d only sound like a little kid throwing a tantrum.
“This story runs next week, or there won’t be an exclusive interview with Logan Attwood.” She wasn’t sure where the words came from. Though it was her voice, they felt much too brave and daring. She feared he would call her bluff, but deep down, she wasn’t sure shewasbluffing.
Vince folded his hands in his lap, his lips pressed in a straight line as he leaned back in his chair and tried to level her with his stern stare. “If you don’t submit the first five hundred words by 9 a.m. tomorrow, I’ll consider that your formal resignation.”
“All I’ve ever wanted to write are stories like Grandma used to. She’d print this one in a heartbeat. She’d understand how much it would touch the lives of the readers to know something so wonderful exists in our community.” She had to take breath because that had all come out at once in a jumble. “It’s not all about money or the juiciest story. It’s about hope.”
Vince threw his glasses onto his desk, his face and neck turning a shade of red she rarely saw. “I’ll be deducting the photography fee for that unauthorized story from your next paycheck.”
“You’re reallythatopposed to printing the horse camp story?”
“I’ve already given you my decision.”
She stormed out of his office, swiped her purse and the lone framed picture of her and Gibbs off her desk. The rest she didn’t need.
She returned to the threshold of Vince’s office long enough to say, “Then consider this my formal resignation. I quit.”
Chapter 13
Logan
Earlier that morning, when Logan had stopped by his grandpa’s place to pick up Gus, he found the front door unlocked. In Starlight, it wasn’t uncommon for folks to do that. But it was unusual for Grandpa, who’d harped on him growing up to make sure the front door was locked if he was the last one leaving the premises.
He’d tried calling Grandpa once since his last visit, but his voicemail box was full. He didn’t feel entirely guilty swiping the final notice letter from the cluttered kitchen table. Nor did he feel too guilty about the lawn service he’d hired to spruce up the overgrown yard and excess of weeds, or the roofer scheduled to come out tomorrow morning to replace the missing shingles.
If his grandpa wouldn’t accept his money and instead insisted on working himself to the bone with two jobs, Logan didn’t care if the older man got upset with him for the rest of it.
Taking Gus to the vet had been the priority, of course, but the notice was next on his list.
He entered the big brick bank on the corner of Main and Fourth. The building was original, built back at the turn of the twentieth century, a detail he only knew because of Abbie and her love of old buildings.
He’d gone on a couple of dates more than a year after he left Starlight, but those women didn’t hold any appeal to him. Abbie was smart, ambitious, and passionate. She could hold a grudge, but she had a kind, generous heart—all qualities he’d failed to find in another.
He hoped she’d forgive him for offering her a loan. Come around to understand he was only trying to help. If he had stayed, maybe they’d be buying that house together and the money wouldn’t be an issue.
As he waited in the bank line, he wondered about the house. When they were younger, he went with her one time to peek in the windows. How they hadn’t gotten caught was only dumb luck. Mrs. Hampton had stood on the porch, shouting and waving her broom because she knew someone was out there. They’d been saved by the lilac bushes.
“Logan Attwood,” a teller greeted him, stars in her eyes.
“I need—”
“Do you want something to drink? Water, coffee, tea?”
