Love's Story (23 page)

“At church today I heard about your fall. I'm so sorry you're not feeling well. Perhaps these will cheer you up.”

The bouquet that Mrs. Bloomfield placed in one of Amelia's vases resembled Thatcher's droopy ones.

“Thank you,” Meredith murmured.

“Oh dear. You are blue today, aren't you?” Her friend seated herself on a nearby chair. “Is it more than just the ankle?”

Meredith gave a dismal nod and gazed off into space.

“Is it Thatcher again? What has he done this time?”

“It's me. I railed at him. He hates me now.”

“I'm sure he doesn't. Perhaps his feelings are just hurt or something.”

“I don't think there's much hope left between us. It's better this way. But it's so hard.”

“I understand. We won't talk about it anymore, then.”

“Perhaps it's time for me to return to New York City.”

“Oh, but you can't go now. You must at least stay until after Pride Day.”

“Did you say Pride Day?”

Beatrice nodded enthusiastically.

Meredith moaned, “I have enough trouble with pride, and you celebrate it?”

Mrs. Bloomfield tilted her head. “It's the day we clean up the town. We replace floors and sidewalks that the loggers tear up. Everyone chips in, and we clean up the whole town.”

“That is the most amazing thing I've ever heard. You're absolutely right. I wouldn't want to miss a thing like that. It'll make a wonderful story.”

Monday morning, things looked clearer to Meredith. Her ankle felt tender but strong enough to carry her weight. Jonah insisted that they take care of things at the newspaper office so Meredith could get her life back in order. He brought a wagon around from the stables.

The bell announced their arrival, and Meredith limped into the newsroom with a great deal of grace.

“I've come to settle some matters.” She coveted the closest chair to her. “May I sit?”

The editor-in-chief motioned toward the chair with a nod and glanced at Jonah, who hovered over Meredith. “Is there a problem?”

Meredith pulled several wrinkled pieces of paper from her portfolio and thrust them in the air. “These are threatening letters written to me. The boy who delivered them said that they came from you.” Her eyes settled on Mr. Ralston.

His face turned hateful. “Can't take the truth, Miss Mears?”

“Let me see those.” The editor snapped the letters off the floor and leafed through them. When he was finished, he turned a condemning gaze on his male reporter. “This is the lowest thing I have ever seen. You're fired.”

“No!” Meredith's hand shot up in the air. “He stays. I quit. I'm leaving soon anyway.”

She turned toward Ralston. “But I want to set the record straight. I was never after your job. This has only been a temporary assignment. You knew that from the start. The logging camp was an assignment for
McClure's
magazine. I don't know why you hate me so, but I didn't come to get you fired. I just came to tell you that I know you wrote those letters. You can quit writing them. You can have your job, and you'll get your way soon enough. I'm leaving in September.”

She rose from her chair and faced the editor. “I'm through here, but I thank you for the work you've given me.”

“Wait a minute,” The editor said. “I'm not finished. Ralston, you're still fired. That was the most ungentlemanly thing to do. I don't need your kind representing this paper.”

The pale reporter glared at Meredith and at the editor. “I don't need this cheap operation. And I surely don't need a woman bossing me around. I quit.” He threw a few things together and started to leave; at the door he turned back, a wicked smirk on his face. “But you're still a tramp and a liar, Miss Uppity.”

Jonah lunged toward the door.

“Jonah. Let it be,” Meredith said.

The reporter gave the photographer a parting hateful look and fled.

Jonah chased after him and returned within moments. “He's gone.”

Meredith slumped back into the chair and dipped her head in her hands.

“I'm ashamed for the trouble he's caused you, ma'am. I'll get you something to drink. You look pale.” The editor left them to fetch the drink.

Jonah knelt beside Meredith's chair and grinned up at her. “You were beautiful.”

She smiled. “So were you.”

The editor returned with a drink of water, and Meredith accepted it gratefully. He apologized again and said, “The job is yours, you know. On behalf of this town, we'd love for you to stay.”

She shook her head. “I don't think so.”

“No.” The editor's hand shot up. “Don't answer me today. You're too distressed. Take your time and think about it.”

Meredith slept on it and the next day returned to the editor's office.

“I appreciate your offer. I feel terrible to have cost you a valuable reporter, especially since I'm only staying until September. But in the meantime, I'd be glad to fill in if I can also work on my articles for
McClure's.”

“The facilities are at your disposal.”

“I won't be going to the logging camp anymore,” Meredith said. “But I'll be doing some research by mail and continuing the story. I plan to stop at a few camps on the trip home.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“So what's my first assignment?”

“I thought we should do a blurb, ‘Reporter Leaves Town.' Nothing too informative, unless it's too painful.”

“I'll get right on it, boss.”

Meredith worked hard at the newspaper. She did not ride back to the logging camp and did not run into Mr. Talbot, so things settled down for her in town.

T
wo Saturdays passed from the time that Thatcher walked out of Meredith's life. She had not seen him since. Each Saturday a tiny hope rose within her that maybe he would show up on her doorstep. But it never happened. It was Saturday again, and Meredith felt restless. She decided Jonah's studio would provide a proper diversion.

It was raining, so she donned a jacket, but Amelia intercepted her by the door. “And where do you think you're going in this rain?”

“Just to the studio to chat with Jonah. Want to come?”

“Oh. Well…” Amelia gazed longingly toward the studio, but her practical disposition won out in the end. “No. One foolish woman in this household is enough. You'll need someone to nurse you again.”

Meredith giggled. “You're probably right. But it's not like I'm going far.”

“But it's pouring.”

“And I'll hurry,” Meredith said, before bursting outside.

“Watch your ankle!” Amelia shouted after her.

Meredith chuckled as she ran, but wisely kept her eyes downcast and watched her step, then danced up and down in the rain, waiting for Jonah to answer her knock.

“Come in,” he yelled.

She pushed open the door, and a gust of wind blew her in.

“Storm?” He could not stop his particular task without harming his photographs, but his eyes flashed concern. “What are you doing out in the rain?”

“Visiting you.”

He caught her playful mood. “I can see that. You're dripping all over my floor.”

“So what are you working on?”

“Photographs of the dock. The ocean is a wonderful backdrop.”

“Mm-hmm. That schooner looks majestic sitting on top of that wave.”

“Unique, isn't it?”

“So, Jonah.” She leisurely milled about the studio, fingering different things and looking at his finished works. “You've done a wonderful job with this studio. But where are you going to live after I leave?”

“Pardon?” His head bobbed up and down as he dipped paper in and out of a solution.

“It wouldn't look proper for you to live here alone with Amelia.”

He frowned. “I've given it some thought, but haven't come up with a solution yet.”

“I have one,” she ventured. “Why don't you marry her?”

The paper slipped from his hands and down into the pan of solution. “Now look what you've gone and done.”

She moved closer and leaned over his shoulder as he removed it. “Is it ruined?”

“Fortunately for you, it's not.”

“So?”

“I guess that would be one possible solution.”

“Have you considered it?”

“I have.”

She giggled. “And?”

He smiled. “I rather like the idea.”

“You sly old fox, you.” She sidled up to him.

“Watch it. Stay back.”

“Well?” she pressed.

“A few weeks does not give a man enough time to court, propose, and marry, does it now?”

She laughed with delight and grabbed his arm. “Congratulations, old man.”

“Watch it now, Storm. Be careful there.”

“Maybe she'd let you stay at the mill. But you'd better start making your intentions known if you expect such a favor.”

His hands stopped midair, and his eyes lit with hope. “That's a great idea. There's plenty of room there. Surely there would be someplace… and Amelia does have the connections.” He grinned appreciatively at her. “Thanks, Storm.”

“You're welcome.” She hugged his stiff body, for he held his soupy hands out away from her. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am. I love it here.”

“Good. Well, I'd better get back to the house. Talking with you has given me the lift I needed.”

She ran back to the house, and Amelia appeared almost as soon as the door opened. “See how wet you got! What's a body to do?” she scolded.

Meredith gave her a sly smile. “Let's sit by the fire, shall we? So I can dry off.”

The next day, a steady rain continued. Jonah dressed in a slicker and went to the stables around the corner. He returned with Amelia's horse and carriage. Bundled up in summer coats, Meredith and Amelia scurried into the protection of the carriage. All the way to church, Amelia chatted on and on about how poor Jonah would be drenched.