Season of Hope. Virginia Carmichael
Читать онлайн книгу.you and Jack meet here at the Mission?”
“No, up on the mountain. I pulled him out of a drift when he went off-trail last spring.” Gavin shook his head at the memory. Crazy guy could have died that way, upside down in ten feet of snow.
“He never told me that.”
“Probably didn’t want to worry you.”
She laughed and the sound made him smile without his permission. “No, he loves to worry me. More likely he was embarrassed at having pulled a less-than-stellar move.”
“You don’t ski?” Maybe she did and he just hadn’t noticed her under a ski hat, ski suit and goggles. No. He was pretty sure he would have noticed her even under all that. She sure looked like she spent time at the gym. Then he realized he was giving her an extended once-over and dropped his gaze.
“Not my thing. In fact, exercise and I have an awkward relationship. On-again, off-again, depending on the number of cookies I need to burn.” She shrugged one shoulder.
It was as if his mouth had declared independence from his brain. He needed to stop asking questions and pray a call came in. “Well, if you ever feel the need for more commitment, we could go snowboarding for the day. I’ll even let Jack come along.” Was he flirting with her? What was wrong with him? Gavin wished he was alone so he could give himself a punch in the arm.
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just smiled at him as if he’d said something cute. “Does your family live around here?”
Reality check. “Yes. My grandmother lives here, and my sister and her little boy are moving here next week.”
She leaned forward, interest shining from those bright blue eyes. “Younger or older sister?”
“Allison is four years younger.” And you don’t want to know the rest of the story on my prodigal sister, so don’t ask. Then again, as a newspaper editor, she just might. They were all about dishing the dirt.
“My cousin has a little boy. We can arrange a playdate at the park if she wants. Moving is hard on kids.”
Moving was extra hard on a kid who didn’t really have any place to call home. But he was ready to change all that, if Allison would let him. Sean would love to make some friends. He nodded. “That would be great.”
There was a beat or two and then he said, “Hey, I’m sure someone will be here soon. I feel bad about you wasting your time.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she glanced around the deserted lobby. “True, it’s pretty slow right now.”
The far door that led to the offices opened with a bang and Jose strode through. His hair was cut short, red polo and khakis neatly pressed. Except for the massive multi-colored tattoos covering each arm from wrist to biceps, he looked like your middle-management employee. His name tag bounced as he advanced on them, expression intense.
“Did I hear that right? Calista’s in labor?” His Mayan features were lit up with excitement.
“Sure is. Grant left a few minutes ago.”
“And you let him drive?” Jose raised both hands in a “what’s up” gesture.
“No, Lana took him over.”
Jose relaxed against the desk, a smile creasing his face for the first time. “Good thing. When my wife had her baby last year, I almost wrecked the car and we only had to drive three blocks.”
“He didn’t look like he was fit to do much besides walk. Maybe not even that,” Gavin said, remembering Grant in the lobby, too excited to put one foot in front of the other.
“I’m Jose.” He seemed to notice Evie for the first time and put out a hand. Gavin watched her shake it and introduce herself. Her expression was friendly, her tone even, but Gavin had seen alarm pass over her face when Jose appeared. He was definitely scary-looking, but there wasn’t a man in this Mission who was more committed to peace.
“You must be tapped into the community if you’re heading The Chronicle. Best hometown paper we’ve ever had.”
Evie smiled that megawatt smile, both dimples making an appearance. Gavin could see the pride in her eyes.
Jose tapped a finger on the desk, thinking. “You and Gavin should work up something about the whooping cough epidemic. Last year we had a few cases, but this year they’ve already had seventeen. The babies get sick the worst. No fatalities yet, but there will be if people don’t get on board with the vaccinations.”
Gavin looked to her, suspecting she was already giving the idea a pass. Sure, the outbreak had his office going crazy, but that would be low priority at the paper.
“I was thinking the same thing when Jack told me you worked with the CDC, but I didn’t want to pressure you.” Evie was nodding at Gavin, as if this made perfect sense. “You need to get the word out, and we can help.”
He forced his face into something that he hoped passed for encouraging. She was right. But he wouldn’t be the one to walk into the lion’s den. Journalists were all the same. Drama for profit. There were real people suffering and they showcased it for greed. Gavin dropped his gaze to the desk, struggling to compose his thoughts. But babies would die without the information out there, so it didn’t matter what he felt about papers.
The large glass front doors opened and two women in red Mission jackets came into the lobby, probably Lana’s replacement.
He stood up and angled himself out of the desk chair. Thankfully nobody had called.
A young woman with a name tag and a long dark braid came toward the desk. “Jose, what’s going on? Lana said there was some sort of emergency?” She scowled, features twisted in surprise.
“Grant got a phone call, Lissa.” He waggled his eyebrows. The expression on the young woman’s face went from confusion and annoyance to all-out glee.
“No way!”
“Yes, way. But keep it on the down-low for now. She just got checked in.” Jose put his finger to his lips.
He couldn’t help laughing. He locked eyes with Evie and she was grinning from ear to ear. The joy was contagious. A baby was going to be born. The whole Mission was waiting for this baby. That was the way it should be, for every kid. Family and friends and well-wishers waiting to give a big welcome. He felt his smile fade a little. That’s not the way it was for Allison and Sean, for sure. There was no one to welcome him, to hold Allison’s hand. He hated that it had happened that way.
“Call me tomorrow about the article. We can get started on it right away.” Evie pulled her keys from her purse and gave a wave. A second later she was wading through the little kids, toward the middle of the lobby. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, and her steps were quick.
Gavin watched her for a moment, noting the glass doors and the darkness outside. Her keychain had been a tiny bottle of pepper spray. It was downtown Denver, not New York City. The sidewalk shone with fresh snow. People passed the Mission at a steady rate. There was no real reason to need an escort to the parking lot. And Grandma Lili would thump him if she found out any grandson of hers let a woman walk alone at night.
Gavin took a breath. “Hey, wait up a minute,” he called.
Evie turned, surprise on her face.
“Let me walk you to your car.” He slipped on his coat.
“You think I’m afraid of the dark?” She laughed up at him. The black of her coat hood contrasted with the pink in her cheeks, and her eyes sparked with interest. He dragged his gaze away.
“I’m sure you’re not.” He pulled on the long metal handle of the front door and held it open for her. “Better safe than sorry.”
He grimaced inwardly. That was his personal motto, would probably be written on his tombstone. Here lies Gavin, better safe than sorry. Just as soon as he walked Evie to her