full twenty seconds.
“Fine, but you’d better not pull a fast one. I’ll print those pictures of your brother without thinking twice.”
“I believe you. That’s why I’m here.”
“Okay, but don’t fuck with me, McBride.”
Tanner simply clicked the phone off. He headed to the back to look for the main receptacle, whistling shrilly in the quiet. Taking out the trash had never felt so good.
Chapter 8
M eredith clutched the door to The Western Independent for a moment before pulling it open. The comforting smell of paper and ink hit her immediately. She took a cleansing breath and smiled as people called out greetings.
Her gramps had given her some time to settle into Dare, so today was her first official day.
She was hugged and kissed all the way down to her father’s office. He sported new wire-rimmed glasses and was frowning at an article covered in red ink. It was good to see him ten pounds lighter. She hoped it would help his heart. He and her mom were leaving for Sedona the next morning.
“Problems?” she asked from the doorway.
His face broke into a grin. She felt the answering tug on her lips. How many times had she stood in this place, watching him mark up articles?
“Hi there.” He stood up to hug her. Unlike his usual perfunctory embraces, he held her for a long moment before stepping back. “Welcome. I still don’t know what to say about all this.”
“You don’t need to say anything, Daddy. Just promise me you’ll take it easy.”
After tossing and turning all night, she’d given herself a firm talking to. Being home was more than just a family duty. The Independent was a haven, a place where she’d grown up and learned the trade. This was her opportunity to give something back.
He took her shoulders. “A word of advice. I know you pretend not to be sensitive, but sometimes Pop Hale is a cranky old man with tough standards.”
“I know. You don’t have to protect me. I want to be here, Dad.” And she realized it was true. Her heart wasn’t racing anymore. She could breathe. And she didn’t have to channel Divorcée Woman to feel comfortable.
This was her natural skin.
“I’m glad. Give me a call if you have any questions.”
“No, Dad. I can ask Gramps anything.”
The grooves around his face eased. “Okay, let’s go talk to Pop. Just don’t let him pressure you into taking over. I know you have a great job in New York, and I don’t want you to stay here for my sake. You go where you’re happy. Promise me, Mere.”
Her eyes burned. “I promise.”
He kissed her forehead like he used to when he picked her up from school to take her to the newspaper. She wrapped him in a hug until he cleared his throat and stepped away, and then they walked down the hallway together.
Various news broadcasts were playing in Arthur Hale’s office, and stacks of newspapers covered his battered desk. It was chaotic and loud and messy—the complete opposite of her father’s quiet sanctuary. Grandpa Hale was rubbing his neck when he caught sight of them, and his chair squeaked as he leaned back in it.
“Well, well, well. Seems my granddaughter does have black ink running through her veins like the rest of us.” His wink was pure mischief.
Meredith held up her wrist. “Do you want to cut me for proof?”
He rose and gave her a bear hug. “Ah, that smart mouth. You raised her right, Alan. Can’t have any mealy-mouthed women in the Hale family.”
The ringing phone went unanswered.
“No, we can’t,” her dad responded.
“You ready for a permanent name plaque yet?”
“Now, Pop, she’s only here to give me a break. Lay off.”
“Hmm…We’ll see about that. So, are you ready to get to work, missy?” Grandpa popped a red hot in his mouth.
“What do you have in mind?”
He scratched his chin. “Well, since you have a good sense of that East-coast bias we try to guard ourselves against, why don’t you draw up some ideas for Sunday’s editorial?”
The Sunday
“Fine, but you’d better not pull a fast one. I’ll print those pictures of your brother without thinking twice.”
“I believe you. That’s why I’m here.”
“Okay, but don’t fuck with me, McBride.”
Tanner simply clicked the phone off. He headed to the back to look for the main receptacle, whistling shrilly in the quiet. Taking out the trash had never felt so good.
Chapter 8
M eredith clutched the door to The Western Independent for a moment before pulling it open. The comforting smell of paper and ink hit her immediately. She took a cleansing breath and smiled as people called out greetings.
Her gramps had given her some time to settle into Dare, so today was her first official day.
She was hugged and kissed all the way down to her father’s office. He sported new wire-rimmed glasses and was frowning at an article covered in red ink. It was good to see him ten pounds lighter. She hoped it would help his heart. He and her mom were leaving for Sedona the next morning.
“Problems?” she asked from the doorway.
His face broke into a grin. She felt the answering tug on her lips. How many times had she stood in this place, watching him mark up articles?
“Hi there.” He stood up to hug her. Unlike his usual perfunctory embraces, he held her for a long moment before stepping back. “Welcome. I still don’t know what to say about all this.”
“You don’t need to say anything, Daddy. Just promise me you’ll take it easy.”
After tossing and turning all night, she’d given herself a firm talking to. Being home was more than just a family duty. The Independent was a haven, a place where she’d grown up and learned the trade. This was her opportunity to give something back.
He took her shoulders. “A word of advice. I know you pretend not to be sensitive, but sometimes Pop Hale is a cranky old man with tough standards.”
“I know. You don’t have to protect me. I want to be here, Dad.” And she realized it was true. Her heart wasn’t racing anymore. She could breathe. And she didn’t have to channel Divorcée Woman to feel comfortable.
This was her natural skin.
“I’m glad. Give me a call if you have any questions.”
“No, Dad. I can ask Gramps anything.”
The grooves around his face eased. “Okay, let’s go talk to Pop. Just don’t let him pressure you into taking over. I know you have a great job in New York, and I don’t want you to stay here for my sake. You go where you’re happy. Promise me, Mere.”
Her eyes burned. “I promise.”
He kissed her forehead like he used to when he picked her up from school to take her to the newspaper. She wrapped him in a hug until he cleared his throat and stepped away, and then they walked down the hallway together.
Various news broadcasts were playing in Arthur Hale’s office, and stacks of newspapers covered his battered desk. It was chaotic and loud and messy—the complete opposite of her father’s quiet sanctuary. Grandpa Hale was rubbing his neck when he caught sight of them, and his chair squeaked as he leaned back in it.
“Well, well, well. Seems my granddaughter does have black ink running through her veins like the rest of us.” His wink was pure mischief.
Meredith held up her wrist. “Do you want to cut me for proof?”
He rose and gave her a bear hug. “Ah, that smart mouth. You raised her right, Alan. Can’t have any mealy-mouthed women in the Hale family.”
The ringing phone went unanswered.
“No, we can’t,” her dad responded.
“You ready for a permanent name plaque yet?”
“Now, Pop, she’s only here to give me a break. Lay off.”
“Hmm…We’ll see about that. So, are you ready to get to work, missy?” Grandpa popped a red hot in his mouth.
“What do you have in mind?”
He scratched his chin. “Well, since you have a good sense of that East-coast bias we try to guard ourselves against, why don’t you draw up some ideas for Sunday’s editorial?”
The Sunday
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