Judy Duarte – A Cowboy Family Christmas (страница 8)
“That’s a great idea, Sully. I’ll make that suggestion the next time I talk to my friend.” She offered him a warm, appreciative smile, dropped the meat on the counter then opened the pantry and pulled out several packages of buns. “Thanks again for the advice.”
“Sure. Anytime. Say, you need any help?”
Boy, did she. And on so many levels. But he was talking about dinner—and the need for her to get it on the table by five. “Sure, would you mind firing up the gas grill?”
“I’d be delighted.” Sully went outside to the deck.
Before forming the meat into patties, Lainie washed her hands at the sink, then dried them with the dish towel that had been resting on the counter. She couldn’t help glancing out the kitchen window at the cabin on the knoll. Her hand lifted, and she fingered the length of the scar that hid under the cotton and denim.
She’d just about reached her wit’s end when it came to dealing with handsome men, especially those who left her feeling guilty or embarrassed or lacking in any way. Fortunately, she’d be moving on again soon. Only this time, when she chose a new job, it might be best to consider one at a convent.
* * *
Lainie had just finished wiping down the countertops and putting away the last of the breakfast dishes when the ranch telephone rang. She snatched the receiver from its wall-mounted cradle. The cord, stretched from years of use, dangled to her knees. “Rocking Chair Ranch. This is Lainie.”
“Hey, kid.”
She was more than a little surprised to hear Mr. Carlton’s voice on the other end.
“I knew you could do it,” he said, his tone almost jubilant. “That column you sent to me yesterday was great. In fact, it was everything I’d hoped it would be.”
Thank goodness. Or rather, in this case, thank Sully. Either way, she was relieved to know she’d hit the mark. “Thank you, Mr. Carlton.”
“You mentioned the internet service wasn’t very good at the ranch, so I hope you received the additional letters I sent. I hadn’t gotten your column yet, but I had a good feeling.”
“Yes, I did. I had to go into town to find Wi-Fi so I could send it to you. And while I was there, I checked my email and downloaded them onto my laptop.” She hadn’t looked at them yet. She was waiting until she found both the time and the enthusiasm to tackle the chore. But her boss didn’t need to know that. “I’ll read them over the weekend.”
“Good, but you might want to get started on them right away. I’ll need your next column turned in by Monday at noon.”
“So soon?” Monday was only a few days away. She leaned against the wall and wrapped the curly phone cord around her index finger. “I thought my deadlines were on Wednesdays.”
“Now that we’re back on track, I’ll need more time to review your column.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following you.”
“When the last Dear Debbie quit without notice, I had to find a replacement and make adjustments. The column comes out every Friday, so I pushed your deadline back to give you time to write it. But that meant I had to review it quickly. I’ll admit that your column isn’t a huge priority to me, especially since the readership isn’t that big. But the fans we do have are very loyal. And they’re vocal.”
Lainie didn’t doubt that the lovelorn column was at the bottom of the editor’s priority list. Not that she knew what was at the top. She had no idea what the Brighton Valley residents expected to see in terms of news and special interest stories. At least, not yet. She’d have a much better idea after she researched her new community and the various organizations needing volunteers the next time she went to town. She’d even take her camera with her. Who knew what photo op she might find? Or what interesting tidbit she might learn. There were sure to be plenty of people or activities going on that she could use for a future article.
Mr. Carlton cleared his throat. “A Monday deadline isn’t going to be a problem for you, is it?”
She’d wrapped the phone cord so tightly around her finger that it had turned red, so she loosened it as she attempted to reassure her boss. “No, not at all. I’ll get my next column to you with time to spare.” Now all she had to do was to reassure herself that she’d come through for him again.
And to pull that off, she’d have to find Sully. Maybe she could bribe him with brownies.
“That’s just the kind of response I like in my staff,” Mr. Carlton said. “My full-time staff.”
He didn’t have to say any more. If Lainie wanted a bigger and more important position at The Brighton Valley Gazette, she’d need to keep her self-doubt at bay.
“You won’t be disappointed, Mr. Carlton.”
“We’ll see about that.” He muttered something under his breath—or possibly to someone else. “Listen, Debbie—or rather, Lainie. I have a meeting and need to get ready for it. I’ll let you go so you can get started on the next column. I can’t wait to see it.” Then he hung up without saying goodbye.
Lainie completely freed her finger from the cord, released her death grip on the receiver and returned it to the wall mount. Then she straightened her stance and blew out a ragged sigh.
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