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“Bess got shot because of the leads I followed and the stories I wrote,” I said instead. “If I had known that was the price of the news coverage, I never would have published those pieces.”
“And Dale Meecham never would have been caught!” Bess said. “Neither would Leo Bardot. I’ve never been so proud to work for the Chronicle as I was the day that first story came out. Pete…” She stopped, trying to compose herself. She couldn’t, though, so she spoke through her tears. “Pete was like family to me. He gave everything to that paper. And not for money. He did it for his community.”
Christine was wiping away tears, too, and I felt about six inches tall.
“I never should have expected anything else from someone who lives in California,” Bess said softly, sniffling. “Go back to your beaches and overpriced coffee.”
“Bess, you know me,” I said. “I plan to ask for enough money for the Chronicle that I can give you a nice severance and you can retire early. You’ve given your whole working life to the paper, and you were shot.”
“Oh, sure,” she said, shrugging. “Just send old Bess into a corner to shrivel up and die while you go back to your men with waxed chests and earrings. Poor Grady.”
She was nothing if not dramatic. I looked at Christine for help, but I could tell by her expression that I wasn’t getting any support from her.
“You’re good at this,” Bess said. “And you love it. I see the look on your face when you look at a new edition for the first time. There’s pride there. Ownership. I feel it, too, and I wouldn’t give it up for all the money in the world.”
“It’s not about money,” I insisted. “And I plan to come back and visit and to keep seeing Grady.”
“Christine, what would Pete say?” Bess asked.
Christine’s eyes widened as both of us looked at her. Bess hadn’t hesitated to put her on the spot. I was curious about her answer, though.
“Pete always said he hoped Avon would carry on the Chronicle one day but that it seemed like an impossible dream. What he wanted most was for her to be happy.”
“I am happy here,” I said, meaning it. “At first, I didn’t think I would be. It’s so cold and far from a big city. But the people…and the Chronicle. And Grady.” I locked gazes with Bess. “I do love it, but I don’t know how to get past what happened to you.”
“Stay and we’ll get past it together,” she implored. “Please. You have family here who love you. Laura and Don and Harper, and…me.”
Tears flooded my eyes. I’d never thought I’d have a family again, but she was right. I had family in Sven’s Beard, and I also had a purpose—the Chronicle. Selling pharmaceuticals had only been a means of earning money, but I had never really enjoyed my job or felt a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. Putting together a weekly newspaper for Sven’s Beard was so much more than that. Here, I was truly part of a community.
“You’re sure?” I asked Bess.
She rolled her eyes, looking up at the ceiling. “They don’t make men like Ryan Grady in California, Avon. If you don’t want to stay for me or for the paper, stay for that one-in-a-million man who’s crazy about you.”
With my emotions overwhelming me, the tears welling in my eyes overflowed and ran down my cheeks. The past few days had been rough. I was behind on sleep and I’d let fear take over. Fear over what had happened to Bess, fear about my ability to run the paper long term, but mostly—fear of falling in love with Grady. I’d been burned by love in the past. But my lumberjack police chief with a soft side was one in a million. He was worth the risk.
“I want to stay for all of it,” I said, covering my face with my hands.
Christine came over and hugged me, letting me cry.
“So you’re staying then?” Bess asked. “You’re not selling the Chronicle?”
I pulled away from Christine and smiled at her. “Yes, I’m staying. And no, I’m not selling.”
“Attagirl,” Bess said, opening her arms for a hug.
Happiness coursed through me as I gently hugged her good side again. This was the right decision, but it still felt like I’d just jumped off the edge of a cliff.
I had to tell Grady. But I didn’t want to do it while he was in the car with his friends. I made a split-second decision to book the next flight to San Diego so I could pack up my apartment and notify my landlord that I was moving.
Then I’d return to the Beard and surprise Grady. Now that I’d finally admitted what I really wanted—both out loud and to myself—I could hardly wait to be in his arms again.
