The Gathering Place Page 17

  Art Hecht, a local businessman, had supported Charlie Bates for mayor, Sara recalled. It figured that he would try to blame Emily. But maybe Emily was responsible in some way.

  “When we learned of this federal program, I presented the information at a council meeting,” Emily reminded him. “And you voted in favor of applying for it.”

  “Who knew about the fine print and the red tape? That was up to you to figure out,” Art pressed. “Now we’ve been given the funds, but we might not see a penny of them. Explain that to the taxpayers next time someone’s having a heart attack, and we don’t have an extra ambulance to get them to the hospital.”

  “Now just a minute. No one is expiring from heart attacks because our emergency response system is inadequate,” Emily replied. “So far our system is keeping up with the demand. We’re trying to improve it, so we can respond to unexpected or extraordinary situations, like the big storm last fall. Besides, this grant isn’t the only place for us to get aid. There are two other federal programs we haven’t even tried yet.”

  “Great. We can apply for anything we want. We can apply to send a member of the town council up to the North Pole to visit Santa Claus. The issue isn’t getting anywhere with all this paperwork,” Miriam Foster said, in a frustrated tone.

  Good quote, Sara thought, with dismay, as she jotted it down. It was going to make Emily look bad, but she knew all of these rebuttals were valid points that should be part of the article.

  Sara sighed, trying to push her concern for Emily aside. You have to stay objective, she scolded herself. Wyatt is going to be all over this story, waiting to see if you can do it.

  The meeting finally ended with a split vote on the lawsuit—Emily had to table the motion—but with an agreement that Warren would contact the federal agency and ask them to contact the county on Cape Light’s behalf.

  Sara felt a small knot of nerves in her stomach, as she left the Village Hall. This was going to be a tough story to write. And it was going to take time to get it right. It looked like another long night at the office.

  SARA RETURNED TO THEMESSENGERAND WENT STRAIGHT TO HER DESK. She took out her notes and got to work. But she couldn’t figure out how to start the article. She found herself glancing from her computer screen to her notebook then back at the screen again, without writing a word.

  Suddenly, she sensed somebody standing behind her. It was Wyatt, of course. Who else would it be?

  “How was the meeting? Did you get anything?” he asked.

  Sara looked up at him. “It was pretty tough for Em—for the mayor,” she corrected herself. “A lot of people want the town to sue the county. But she wants to move slower, put some pressure on the county in other ways.”

  Sara described some of the high points of the argument, making sure she sounded objective. “So the vote ended in a tie,” she finished.

  Wyatt’s eyebrows went up, and he smiled, revealing deep dimples that Sara had never noticed before.

  “Good . . . very good. I can put that on the front page if we do it right. This was an emergency meeting, called by one of the council members, don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t,” Sara promised, feeling a knot of dread as she made a note on her pad.

  “And don’t call it a tie vote. Call it a stalemate or at loggerheads. We’ll think of something catchy,” he promised.

  “Okay.” She nodded and looked back at her computer screen.

  She thought Wyatt would go then, but he didn’t. She felt him standing behind her. What was he waiting for? She glanced at him over her shoulder and pushed her hair back off her face.

  “Is there something else you want to tell me?”

  He looked like he might say something more, then paused and shook his head. “No, nothing. You write the story. I’m going to make some room on page one—but no pressure or anything,” he added, with a mischievous grin.

  “Right, no pressure,” she agreed, almost smiling back.

  Great. Her first chance at a page-one story, and it had to be about Emily getting flogged by the town council. Sara sighed. Sometimes it was hard to remember why she wanted this job in the first place.

  About an hour later, she brought her copy back to Wyatt’s desk. He was going through some photos and held up two shots of some high-school kids putting on a holiday show at a senior home. “This one or this one?” he asked her. “Quick. Your first impression.”

  “The one on the left. I love the expression on that old woman’s face. It says it all.”

  Wyatt looked down at the photo Sara had chosen. “Good choice.” He put the photo aside, then took her copy.

  She hated watching someone read her work. It made her stomach churn. “Can I do anything while you read that? Proofread something maybe?”

  “Uh, sure. That would be a big help. Maybe we can get out of here at a decent hour tonight,” he said, smiling at her.

  She smiled back and took the pages he handed her. She didn’t feel like staying forever tonight, either. She hoped there wouldn’t be too many revisions.

  Back at her desk, she suddenly wondered about Wyatt’s social life. He didn’t appear to have one, staying at the office until all hours, almost every night. Was it possible he had a girlfriend back in California or in some more exotic locale. So what if he does? It wouldn’t make any difference to me. Yet somehow the idea intrigued her.

  She was so busy speculating on Wyatt’s private life that she didn’t hear him walk up behind her, and she nearly jumped when she felt him touch her shoulder.

  “Okay, I have a few changes for you. But this is good. Very good,” he said.

  “Um . . . thanks,” she mumbled, surprised. She took the copy back and looked at his marks. Not nearly as many as usual.

  “You’ve got some good quotes in there, strong stuff.” He paused and sat down in a nearby chair. He looked at her for a long moment in a way that made her nervous. “I guess that wasn’t so easy for you, was it?”

  “I knew when I took this job I was going to have to write about Emily, sooner or later. Something that wasn’t flattering, I mean,” she said honestly.

  “It’s unflattering, all right. No question about that.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile. A very attractive one, she noticed. “I mean that as a compliment to your reporting,” he added.

  She guessed from his expression, he hadn’t thought she would be able to do it, and she surprised him.

  “I know. Thanks.” She tried to return his smile, but it was a half-hearted effort. She had worked hard these last three weeks for praise from Wyatt. It seemed ironic that she finally won it with an article that portrayed Emily in a negative light.

  “Don’t tell me. You’re not sure right now that you love this job so much.”

  Sara wasn’t sure how to answer. “Something like that.”

  Wyatt reached over and patted her shoulder. “That’s right on schedule, too. I knew you were coming along,” he said in a kind, encouraging tone.

  He stood up and gazed down at her, smiling. “Clean up that copy, and I’ll put it in the layout. Then why don’t we go out and get some coffee or something to eat? Have you eaten anything yet tonight?”

  Sara had to think for a minute. “A package of peanut-butter crackers. Stale ones.”

  “Aren’t they always?” he commiserated. “Okay, let’s finish up and get out of here.”

  Sara went back to work, suddenly realizing she had never quite agreed to go out with Wyatt. Not that it really mattered. She felt too wired to go home to bed, and it made her feel good that he had asked her, as if now he finally thought of her as more of an equal.

  A short time later, they were sitting together at the Beanery. Wyatt ordered a sandwich, but Sara felt like having an ice-cream sundae for dinner. She felt as if she was partly consoling herself with sweets and partly out celebrating something. Exactly what, it was hard to say.

  She felt tired, almost too tired to be good company. But Wyatt did most of the talking.
“I’ll be glad when the holidays are over. It gets on my nerves after awhile,” he confessed.

  “Really? Why?”

  Wyatt looked at her with surprise. “It’s so commercial. So fake. Just an excuse for the stores to sell people more stuff they don’t need.”

  She considered his words. “I know what you mean. I hate the materialism, too. But I try to ignore that part.” She paused, wondering if she should say more. “Every year up until now, the holidays made me a little sad, because I thought about my birth mother. Finding her, I mean. But this is the first year when I don’t have to think about that, and I’m actually going to spend Christmas with her. So it’s different for me. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  Wyatt cast her a thoughtful expression. “Good for you. But I would say you’re in the minority.”

  Sara thought that was a cynical thing to say, but she didn’t feel like arguing with him. Although she wasn’t very religious, she knew lots of people in this town who were—like Emily and Sam and Jessica. Christmas seemed to have a different meaning for them, one that transcended the shopping-mall materialism. But she wondered if Wyatt would even understand or accept that if she tried to explain it to him.

  “So are you planning to go back to Maryland?” Wyatt asked.

  “No, my parents are coming up here right after Christmas. They want to see the town, meet Emily.”

  “That should be interesting.”

  “I’m a little nervous about it,” Sara admitted. “I mean, what if they don’t like each other? Then what will I do?”

  “They’re all adults,” Wyatt said, with a shrug. “I say, stick them in a room together, and let them figure it out for themselves.”

  Easy for you to say, she wanted to answer. But then she decided not to. She suddenly thought of Luke, knowing he wouldn’t have given her such a flip answer. But Luke tended to take things seriously. Too seriously at times, she reminded herself. Wyatt had a more laid-back approach to life. He hadn’t meant anything by the comment. Besides, maybe he had the right idea.

  “So what are you doing for the holidays? Staying in town?” she asked.

  “Absolutely. We’ll all be packed into that little house. Which is starting to get on everyone’s nerves, by the way. I’m not sure how we’re going to fit a Christmas tree in there, too. Maybe stick it up on the roof or something,” he noted, making her laugh. “All the presents will slide down and get stuck in the bushes, though.”

  “I thought Scott and Lindsay were moving to the city,” Sara said.

  “That was the plan. But Scott’s restaurant deal fell apart. He’s looking for a job as a chef in a restaurant around here. Lindsay is still looking, too, though I guess I wish she’d keep helping me out.”

  “Why can’t she do that?” Sara asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Wyatt shrugged. “She’s just getting the business end of things in order. She won’t want to hang out there forever. But I haven’t spent the holidays with her and Father for a while, though, so that should be fun,” he added, changing the subject. “Last year I went out to visit my mother. She teaches in Nebraska.”

  “Really? How was that?” Sara asked him.

  “Cold. Cold and bleak. It makes winter up here look like the Bahamas,” he joked. “Come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind seeing some palm trees pretty soon. It would be a nice break. But I can’t even think about escaping for a weekend while my father is still around. He’d have a fit.”

  “No, I guess you can’t,” Sara agreed, surprised to hear that Wyatt was longing to take a break from the paper so soon. He had only been there about a month.

  “I lived in the Caribbean for a while. It was great,” he told her in a nostalgic tone. “Every morning I’d get up early and walk on the beach and take a swim. The water was so clear. I did some amazing underwater photography.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Sara said honestly. “You sound as if you miss it.”

  “I guess I do sometimes. Especially in a place like this, when the snow starts piling up,” he said, with a good-natured laugh. “I’m starting to miss taking pictures, too,” he confessed.

  “Well, New England has its own charms.” Sara liked it here most of the time, despite the cold and snow.

  “You forget, I grew up here, so it’s not nearly as charming for me. But you sound like you want to stay,” he noted.

  “For a while, I guess. I’m not sure how long. I wanted to take this job and get to know Emily. That’s why I’m here right now.”

  He gazed at her a moment and smiled. “There are so many wonderful places to visit and explore, Sara. I hope you get out there and see them all. You’re the type, I can tell.”

  “The type? The exploring type you mean?”

  He nodded. “When you’re ready to leave here, I don’t think you’ll run back to Maryland. You’ll go someplace else. Someplace interesting, like New York or San Francisco . . . or London, maybe.”

  Sara considered his words. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. But maybe he was right. Maybe she did want to see more of the world before she committed herself to a job—or a relationship.

  “I love New York, but I don’t know if I could live there. It’s sort of overwhelming to me,” she admitted.

  “You would get used to it, if you wanted to.”

  Sara wondered if that were true. Wyatt made it sound as if anything was possible for her. And, Sara reflected, she liked thinking he was right.

  They sat talking until the waitress came by and asked if they wanted anything more. “No, just the check, please,” Wyatt said.

  “Let me split it with you,” she offered.

  “Don’t be silly,” Wyatt said, taking out some bills.

  She felt awkward, as if they were suddenly on a date. “Well, thanks for dinner,” she said.

  “The sundae, you mean?” He laughed at her. “That’s all right. I admire a woman who goes straight for dessert.” He met her gaze, and with an absentminded gesture, pushed back his dark hair. Sara felt herself staring into his eyes, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Hello, Sara. Done with work already?”

  Sara turned and looked up to find Luke staring down at her. He stood near their table with his arms folded over his chest, wearing his leather jacket and an unhappy expression.

  Sara stared at him, wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open in a way she quickly realized was awfully unattractive. She quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing, as if she’d been caught at something. Which was utterly ridiculous, she told herself. She glanced back at Luke, wishing he would stop staring at her with that “Gotcha!” cop expression on his face. She was sure Wyatt noticed, and she felt horribly embarrassed.

  “Luke, hi. I didn’t even see you there,” Sara said, trying to force her voice to a normal tone. She leaned back in her chair, putting more distance between herself and Wyatt.

  “Yes, I noticed. You were talking away there,” Luke said, his gray eyes never leaving her.

  I’m just talking to my boss. It’s not a crime, she wanted to say, but that seemed too defensive.

  “Um, this is my boss, Wyatt Forbes. Wyatt, this is Luke McAllister,” Sara said, introducing them.

  Wyatt stood up and offered his hand. He smiled in his usual relaxed way. “How do you do?” The two men shook hands briefly, and Wyatt sat down again. “Care to join us, Luke?” Wyatt asked in a friendly tone.

  “No, thanks. I just stopped in for some coffee.” He held up a paper cup.

  “Well, we were going anyway,” Sara said. She stood up and picked up her coat and knapsack. “Why don’t you walk out with us?” she asked Luke. She almost thought for a moment he’d refuse, but finally he nodded.

  “Sure,” he said.

  Sara fumbled to get her coat on, and at the same moment, both men reached out to help her. Then they looked at each other, stepped back at the same time, and her coat nearly fell to the floor.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got it,” she assured them, tugging it on herself
.

  Luke looked annoyed, silently fuming, she thought. Wyatt looked as if he wanted to laugh, but kept a straight face as they left the café. Once outside, he turned toward Sara. “Good night, Sara. See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

  “Night.” Sara met his gaze briefly, all the while aware of Luke watching her.

  “Good night, Luke,” Wyatt said. “Stop by the paper sometime,” he added in a friendly tone.

  “Sure thing,” Luke replied. “Good night now.”

  Sara watched Wyatt cross the street and walk toward his car, which was parked down the block. Once Wyatt was gone Luke said, “I did just drop by the paper. But no one was there.” When Sara turned to him with a puzzled expression, he added, “You said you had to work late. I came by with some dinner for you.”

  “Oh . . .” She wasn’t sure what to say. “Thanks. We finished early, so we went out.”

  “I figured out that much.” His tone was calm and remote. But Sara still felt accused by a certain look in his eyes.

  “My car is down this way,” she said.

  “Okay, I’ll walk you.” Before she could answer, Luke fell into step beside her.

  They walked down the empty street, side by side, without touching or even talking. Sara felt tense and self-conscious. Luke had sunk into one of his maddeningly distant modes, which made it even harder.

  “I was just hanging out with my boss for a few minutes after work, Luke,” she said suddenly. “We were just talking, having something to eat.”

  Sara knew she sounded defensive, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Yes, you just told me that. I guess you and Wyatt are getting along better these days.”

  It wasn’t his words exactly, but more his tone that pushed some button inside her.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, feeling suddenly angry.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me. A few days ago you sounded like you hated the guy. This sudden change of heart surprised me, that’s all.”

  “I wouldn’t call it a change of heart,” Sara said, finding his choice of words unnerving. “He’s my boss. I’ve got to try to get along with him.”