Книга - Season of Hope

Season of Hope
Virginia Carmichael


Gavin Sawyer knows he's in trouble the moment he meets Evie Thorne at the downtown Denver mission where they both volunteer. He's drawn to the pretty journalist, even though reporters have caused him nothing but heartache in the past.Soon Gavin begins to let his guard down as he sees that this wonderful woman may be someone he can trust with his heart. But when he brings her home to meet his family during the holidays, Evie's secret past suddenly comes to light. Will their newfound love survive when he learns the truth?







The Gift Of Forgiveness

Gavin Sawyer knows he’s in trouble the moment he meets Evie Thorne at the downtown Denver mission where they both volunteer. He’s drawn to the pretty journalist, even though reporters have caused him nothing but heartache in the past. Soon Gavin begins to let his guard down as he sees that this wonderful woman may be someone he can trust with his heart. But when he brings her home to meet his family during the holidays, Evie’s secret past suddenly comes to light. Will their newfound love survive when he learns the truth?


“Let me walk you to your car.” Gavin slipped on his coat.

“You think I’m afraid of the dark?” Evie 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—it would probably be written on his tombstone. Here lies Gavin, better safe than sorry. Just as soon as he walked Evie to her car, he’d go back to being safe, because she was the type of woman who promised a whole lot of sorry. Smart, sweet, funny…and tied to a newspaper. Couldn’t get much further from safe than that. He had a lot on his plate without adding trouble to it. Now, if he could just remember that when he looked in those gorgeous blue eyes.


VIRGINIA CARMICHAEL

was born near the Rocky Mountains, and although she has traveled around the world, the wilds of Colorado run in her veins. A big fan of the wide-open sky and all four seasons, she believes in embracing the small moments of everyday life. A homeschooling mom of six young children who rarely wear shoes, those moments usually involve a lot of noise, a lot of mess or a whole bunch of warm cookies. Virginia holds degrees in Linguistics and Religious Studies from the University of Oregon. She lives with her habanero-eating husband, Crusberto, who is her polar opposite in all things except faith. They’ve learned to speak in shorthand code and look forward to the day they can actually finish a sentence. In the meantime, Virginia thanks God for the laughter and abundance of hugs that fill her day as she plots her next book.


Season of Hope

Virginia Carmichael






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


But Jesus said to them, “It is I. Do not be afraid.”

—John 6:20


For my sister, Susan, who loves without boundaries.


Contents

Chapter One (#ud8f66c4c-b8f2-5dbf-ae9f-cafd52af2925)

Chapter Two (#uad59365a-1b3f-5325-9094-826e935fc4d9)

Chapter Three (#u68c0fabe-79b0-5cc0-99f0-fb30ea12a028)

Chapter Four (#u3e8c4772-3a7d-5760-b980-018b882b366d)

Chapter Five (#u37875dcc-4191-57b5-a26f-639dbe408db4)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

Late, as usual. Evie swung the door of the Downtown Denver Mission open and dashed inside. The lobby was toasty, even though a bitterly cold November evening wind blew off the Rockies and right down Broadway without pausing to add a few degrees. She strode across the polished floor, her gaze taking in the large wooden cross that hung from the upper level.

She loved that old cross. It was so simple, so strong. It had brought her back to a life of forgiveness and hope. Her steps slowed and she took a deep breath. There wasn’t anything to be gained by running, except a few more seconds.

Now that she wasn’t flying through the lobby, she noticed a large poster announcing the Christmas tree–lighting ceremony. She smiled, knowing how excited the city’s kids would be. One of the biggest parties of the year, it brought the whole Mission family together, as the tree was delivered on an old-fashioned sled pulled through downtown by horses. Often as not, it snowed through the party, but that was part of living in Denver.

The sound of her own footsteps rang in the cavernous lobby. Must take a ton of money to keep this place warm. She couldn’t imagine trying to balance the comfort of the residents and the reality of the electricity bill. But that was why she was here. An empty spot on the finance committee, her brother, Jack’s, annoying ability to get his way and an extra dash of guilt meant Evie was the Mission’s newest volunteer.

She glanced at the large, decorative mirror mounted to the nearest wall and tucked her dark hair behind her ears. Snow melting along the collar of her coat, blue eyes, generous mouth and the flush of a woman who’d been running late all day. She’d heard she was pretty, even beautiful, but sometimes when Evie looked in the mirror, all she saw was her twin brother, Jack. Same quirky smile, same off-center dimples, same arched brows that made them look just a bit mischievous.

Except for that little bit of sadness in her eyes that was all her own, a shadowy reminder of too many years running after the wrong things, too many nights awake staring at the ceiling. She smoothed her slightly wrinkled office clothes and forced her mouth into a smile she hoped would pass as genuine.

Evie paused at the long, low front desk. She’d been volunteering for years at the Mission, mostly during the holidays or when they were short-staffed. Now, for the first time, she had a position. The responsibility felt heavy on her shoulders. “Hi, Lana. Do I smell cookies?”

“Gingerbread. It’s a rule that we can’t have finance meetings without cookies. Take one.” The secretary lifted up the plate, a smile creasing her face.

“Oh, great rule.” Evie snagged a soft, round cookie and took a bite. She’d pay for the cookie later. Power walking an extra mile or two at the gym might cover it. But she wouldn’t think about that right now.

Lana tipped her head toward the offices. “It’s hard enough to make tough money decisions. A little bit of gingerbread goes a long way toward keeping everybody happy.” Purple-tipped hair, cut military short, gave the impression that the secretary was a little nutty. Add in the wheelchair and Lana was the poster child for unconventional. But Evie had never been anything but impressed by Lana’s warmth and professionalism.

“Thanks for this,” she said, turning toward the office area.

“Welcome. We’ve got all your papers filed, but remember to turn in the background check waiver.”

Evie popped the last bit of deliciousness into her mouth and nodded. She wondered briefly if she would have any chance of stealing Lana away from the mission. Better pay, fewer hours, more vacation. Working at a big newspaper wouldn’t be so different from what Lana was doing now, with coordinating all the paperwork and the staff.

Her whole body turned taut with anger as she caught herself. Old habits die hard. Plotting to steal away the Mission secretary might be a momentary bit of shallowness for some, but for her, with all the ugly past she carried, it burned like a searchlight on her weakness. Over and over she had made the very worst choices with only her selfishness as a guide.

And even now, years after she’d walked away from a miserable situation made by her own bitter jealousy, she caught herself slipping. Self-loathing and frailty, it all felt so familiar. She dragged in a breath, willing the chill to pass. All she could do was continue to ask for grace and hold on to hope. A girl with a past like hers didn’t have much choice.

“Evie!” She knew even before she turned it was Jack, his cheery tone echoing around the lobby. He was half a foot taller and a hundred times more fun. Just the sight of him, with his energetic bounce, made her forced smile morph into something absolutely genuine.

“Wait up. I got stuck in traffic. Oh, and here’s Gavin. Looks like everybody’s late tonight.” Jack motioned toward the entry and tugged off his ski jacket as he spoke.

A man with sandy blond hair stepped through the glass double doors. He didn’t look up, gaze focused a few feet in front, mouth set in a line. More than preoccupied, he seemed to be carrying the worries of the whole city.

Evie cocked her head, watching him. So, this was the Gavin Sawyer who liked to snowboard with Jack up on Wolf Mountain. From what her brother had said, she’d gotten the impression Gavin was sort of an awkward science type, obsessed with viruses and germs. The man striding toward them was the furthest thing from a pale, nerdy lab rat that she could have imagined. Broad shoulders, strong jaw, he was classically handsome but for the little bit of a hunch to his shoulders, like he’d spent his life feeling too tall for the room. His suit fit well, the shirt pressed and tie straight.

This was not a guy who would be happy behind a desk all day, or in a cube farm. She gave him another head-to-toe survey, trying to pinpoint what it was that gave her that gut feeling. Athleticism, maybe. He was only a few feet away and still hadn’t noticed them. He seemed to be in his own world. He looked down at his watch and she grinned. There was something bright on the face, like a cartoon, and the strap was cherry-red.

“Wow. Earth to Evie.” Jack’s comment was followed by a loud snort of laughter.

She turned, face already heating. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Let me introduce you.” He stepped directly in Gavin’s path.

“Wait, Jack. I don’t—” She gave up and let him go. Trailing behind her twin, she attempted to look collected and cool. Jack was the outgoing, popular one. Give her a frantic newsroom an hour before the paper went to press anytime, but small talk just wasn’t her strong point.

Jack clapped a hand on Gavin’s shoulder in greeting. “Hey, you made it. This is my sister, Evie. She’s the editor of The Chronicle and our new board member.”

He turned, face polite, perfect mouth lifted in a smile. But Evie saw a flash of something in his expression that made her catch her breath. A narrowing of the eyes, a thinning of his lips. It was dislike, clear and simple.

“Hi. Glad you’ve joined us.” Gavin’s deep voice caught her by surprise. His tone was perfectly pleasant, if a bit distant. Nothing there suggested the feelings she’d sensed just seconds ago.

“Thank you.” She flashed a bright smile and focused on slipping out of her blue wool coat. She struggled to compose her thoughts, letting her hair hide her face for a moment. Had Jack told him an unflattering story? Was Gavin one of those naturally distrusting types? She could understand that, just a little. But the expression he’d had was more disdain. Her stomach dropped a few inches as she wondered just what he’d heard. Or seen.

“Gavin is our resident disease specialist so if you have any odd rashes, be sure to let him know,” Jack teased as he walked to Lana’s desk and took two cookies.

There was an awkward pause. She crossed her arms and looked at Jack, who was grinning at her. She wanted to smack him.

Gavin let out a deep chuckle and shook his head. Disease specialist didn’t sound like a particularly fun job and certainly didn’t fit with her first impression, but the guy took Jack’s teasing in stride. Better than Evie, who barely resisted giving her brother the look of death.

“Thanks for the cookies, Lana,” Jack called as he headed toward the Mission’s locked office area.

“Consider it a bribe. Don’t forget the Christmas tree is being delivered this weekend. I want you all to be there to help us keep the kids under control.” The secretary grinned and pushed the button on the desk that unlocked the doors and Gavin waved Evie ahead.

He held the door and as she passed, the smell of fresh air and soap wafted her way. As if acting on instinct, Evie glanced at his hand to see if he wore a ring and then grimaced at her own blatant curiosity. Gavin was handsome, smart and smelled wonderful. He also seemed to have taken an instant dislike to her. She was here to help the Mission’s finance board, not find a date.

As she started down the hallway, Evie caught the toe of her glossy black pump on a wrinkle in the old brown carpet, pitching forward. Strong hands quickly gripped her elbow, rescuing her from the headfirst trajectory.

“Careful. The Mission definitely needs new carpeting.” His low voice in her ear held more than a hint of laughter.

Of course he would have to be a witness to that acrobatic turn. Jack was halfway down the hallway, oblivious. Evie blew out a breath, calming her pounding pulse. Nothing like a near miss with the floor to get your heart rate up. “Right. It’s practically unsafe to walk around in here.” She met his eyes, wishing it didn’t matter how ungraceful she seemed.

Fine lines marked the corners of his brown eyes. His hands felt warm and sure against her arm, lending her a support she hadn’t known she needed. Evie wanted to lean close, to soak in the strength, to let someone else make all the big decisions, just for a moment.

Instead, she drew her elbow back from his gentle grip. “We’d better get in there before they start without us.”

Gavin nodded, the ghost of a smile still playing around his mouth.

Turning back toward the conference rooms, she steeled herself against the feelings that swirled in her heart. Besides the fact she was here to focus on the Mission, she wasn’t the type of girl who spent much time on her social life. There were a lot of reasons, really. Potential candidates were meager, even in a city as large as Denver. Running a paper wasn’t a nine-to-five job, either.

But mostly, if she was truly honest, it was the knowledge that in every relationship there would be the moment where she would have to be honest. Honest about her past and the person she had once been. That was enough to give her second thoughts about any man, even one as handsome as Gavin Sawyer.

* * *

Gavin moved on autopilot down the hallway, Evie just steps ahead. So, the new member of the finance board runs the local paper. Okay. Nothing he couldn’t work around. He took a calming breath. They were here to help the Mission build a healthy financial cushion, not pry into each other’s ugly secrets.

Jack had mentioned her and something about The Chronicle, but he hadn’t realized she was the editor. And so beautiful. Her smile was infectious, with a quiet confidence that made him want to follow her anywhere. But with his sister on her way to Denver, that would be a recipe for certain disaster.

Besides, right now he had a lot more to worry about.

The old fear gripped him and he felt his heart grow cold. He’d promised to do everything he could to save lives, promised on the memory of his best friend. No child should ever die of a preventable disease. No family should ever have to suffer that kind of anguish. He fought back the remnants of old grief and focused on the moment ahead. Finance meeting, then back to work. Nothing else really mattered.

Evie stepped back in a hurry as Grant Monohan rushed out of the meeting room, cell phone in hand. The usually unflappable director looked a bit worse for wear.

“There you two are. Go ahead and get settled. I’m just going to call Calista and check on her.” His voice was warm, if just a little anxious.

“Is she in labor?” Gavin asked. Grant’s wife was due soon, maybe tomorrow.

“Three days overdue. She told me if she doesn’t have this baby by Monday, she’s going to stage a sit-in at the hospital until they induce her.” He didn’t crack a smile. Gavin didn’t know Calista very well, but he’d definitely gotten the impression the woman liked her schedule nice and tidy. Babies just didn’t work on schedules.

“Uh-oh. My cousin went overdue and we all tried to stay out of her way until that baby arrived,” Evie said, her tone light.

“A few more days and I might wish I had that option.” This time Grant laughed outright, his joy shadowing his words. “But for now a lot of foot rubbing seems to be keeping her happy.” He held the door open and motioned them in.

The drab conference room was nearly empty. Evie chose a seat next to Jack, who promptly slung an arm over the back of her chair.

Seconds later, the door opened and another board member walked through. Her curly brown hair was pulled back from her narrow face, high arched brows framing bright eyes. She smiled, reaching out a hand. “You must be Evelyn. I’m Nancy Winkoff. I think we’ve met once before.”

“I think we sat together at the fund-raising dinner for the Denver Children’s Symphony last year,” Evie agreed.

Nancy passed out papers. “I’m so glad you’ve joined the five of us. Well, four, now that Tom moved to Los Angeles with his company. And I guess we’re three at the moment, without Grant.” She looked up, meeting Gavin’s eyes. “I didn’t expect to see you. I know you’re fighting a real battle over there at the CDC.”

Gavin nodded, his face tight. “Pray that we can stem the rate of new cases. I’ve never seen numbers like this before.”

He could feel Evie’s gaze on him and turned to face her. She looked mystified. Could the editor of the biggest paper in town really not know what was happening in her own city?

“We will,” Nancy said, her brow creased in worry. “So, welcome to the new member. There’s no mystery why we’re having a hard time filling spots. It’s a thankless job. Nobody enjoys pinching pennies in a place where every program is a good one.” She put a few papers in front of Evie. “Some catch-up homework. We’ve already gone over these, but here are the ideas for next month’s fund-raising, a few grants we apply for every year and a list of new corporate donors who have committed to sponsoring the Mission.”

“I’ll look them over tonight and make sure I’m up to speed.” Evie was all business and Gavin had to smile at the contrast between Jack and his sister. A more laid-back guy would be hard to find, yet his twin was speed and efficiency.

After a half hour of acquiring signatures and making sure the papers were in order, Nancy laid her pen on the table. “Looks like this meeting has reached its natural conclusion. Next week, same time, same place. And I’m praying that Grant will be showing us some pictures of that new baby.” She stood up, gathering a thick gray sweater from the back of her chair.

Gavin hoped he would be there to see the pictures, because the way things were going, the CDC would be running night and day. His stomach clenched at the thought of what might be happening by then. More children in critical care, a city in the midst of an epidemic, the Mission Christmas parties canceled. He gathered up his papers and followed Jack’s conversation with half an ear.

“Here, you guys, have another cookie.” Lana was pushing the cookie platter along the top of the desk as they emerged. The Mission residents were filing out of the cafeteria at the other end of the lobby, and the smell of something delicious reminded Gavin he hadn’t eaten dinner.

“Oh, Lana, you’re tempting me.” Evie flashed a brilliant smile and did as she was told.

“How did the meeting go? I saw Grant go by a few minutes ago.”

“I think he said he needed to check on Calista, didn’t he, Gavin?” Evie asked.

He nodded, keeping his gaze on Lana. Thinking back to that moment reminded him of Evie’s near accident in the hallway and how warm she felt to his hands. A friend’s sister was the very worst candidate for romance, even if he had the time, which he didn’t. Throw in her profession and she should come with a warning sign.

“He’s hovering over the poor woman.” Lana’s lips twitched. “At least Evie’s here to help out. I bet she’s got some great plans.”

Gavin cleared his throat. “Right. Feel free to bring any ideas to the table. Nancy would be the one to ask about specific projects, but the board is fairly informal.”

“Well, I figured, since Jack is part of it.” She gave her twin an ultra-innocent look. He responded in true Jack fashion by flicking his pen cap at her.

“Gavin, what sort of watch is that?” Evie asked.

He glanced down at his wrist, brows lifting in surprise. “My sister had it made for me.” He moved toward her, extending his arm. “She’s got a great sense of humor. See, every number is replaced by a different microbe. Instead of the number one it has Yersinia pestis or the black plague, two is ebola...” His voice trailed off. Every microbe actually looked like a number, wasn’t labeled, was brightly drawn. “Just geek humor, I guess.”

Evie stared, transfixed. “Okay, your sister should get an award for that.”

“She should. For a singer, she sure knows her science. I don’t deserve her at all.”

Reaching out to touch his wrist, she turned his hand to see the watch better. Her fingers were warm, almost hot to the touch. She leaned closer, dark hair falling forward. She smelled wonderful, like Christmas.

“Gavin’s out to rid the world of disease. If he had his way, no one would ever get sick.” Jack leaned against the desk, his mouth lifted in a grin.

She brushed back her dark hair and met Gavin’s gaze with those bright blue eyes. “That’s wonderful. Like a modern-day superhero.”

He felt a tug in his chest, right under his ribs. He’d always found his drive in the memory of Patrick, his best friend. He worked and studied and fought hardest when he thought of children suffering like Patrick had, of families grieving the loss of a child. But right now, more than he ever had before, he wished he had the power to wipe out the viruses that cut children down in the prime of their young lives. All because of one sweet smile.

He shrugged off the compliment with a good-natured laugh, but inside Gavin was waging a full-on war. He couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. Especially if the distraction came in the form of a beautiful woman who just happened to run her own paper. He had a walking, talking family secret on the way to Denver and right now, a journalist was the very last sort of woman he needed.

The shrill sound of a cell phone stopped the conversation and Gavin searched his pockets until he grabbed hold of his work phone. Flipping it open, he already knew who would be on the other end.

“Gavin? It’s Frank Ray. I think we’re going to have to go to a twenty-four-hour schedule. The labs are swamped with all the samples the hospitals are sending.” His coworker’s voice sounded rough with exhaustion.

“You’re probably right. I’m still downtown. Give me five minutes and I’ll be over.” Gavin snapped the phone closed and faced his friends.

“Trouble?” Lana’s expression said it all. Concern, fear, worry. Evie’s brows were drawn together, and she opened her mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it.

“You could say that.” He straightened his shoulders and tried to look confident. Part of his job was to keep the public informed, but not panicked. “Thanks for the cookies.”

He made as quick an exit as possible, buttoning his coat with one hand and searching for his keys with the other. The main hospitals would be full to the brim with cases, and their labs weren’t equipped to handle all the pertussis samples.

As the frigid night air hit him, Gavin felt the warmth of the Mission being stripped away. He pushed aside all the feelings that had swelled in him when Evie was near, the regrets of being too busy for a romantic life, the wishful thinking that did no one any good.

He hunched farther into his coat, walking into the biting wind. He couldn’t let his focus slip, not for a day. He had made a promise to Patrick and lives depended on him.


Chapter Two

“Over here!” Evie waved at Jack above the crowd of kids, but she wasn’t sure he heard her over the noise. The Downtown Mission’s children were gathered in groups on the sidewalk, eagerly awaiting the delivery of the annual Christmas tree. Grant wandered the sidewalk, crouching down every few feet to chat with some small child or another. The Mission workers passed cups of hot chocolate and took turns peering down the road for any sign of the tree.

Evie huddled inside her wool coat and tried to stamp some feeling back into her feet as her twin made his way over. The paper had been put to bed for the day, so there was nothing left but to jump back into the fray. It could be a 24/7 job, if she let it. She’d been down that road before, back in Aspen. A fast crowd of photographers, chasing a faster crowd of celebrities, made for a perfect storm of selfishness. She could feel her perspective slipping, just like old times. Her brain needed a little time away from the drama, and this was the perfect way to get a grip on her priorities.

Snowflakes drifted gently down over the crowd of excited kids, and Evie whispered a silent prayer of thanks. Christmas was her favorite season, all about hope, new beginnings and fresh starts. She was living proof of second chances.

“I heard the wagon got stuck on Lincoln Street.” Jack tugged his ski hat down over his ears and gave Evie a hug.

“Traffic at this hour?” She frowned up at the sky. Drivers in Denver were used to the weather.

“Something about a frayed rope. I didn’t catch the whole story.” Jack broke off as a cheer went up through the group.

Around the corner came a pickup truck pulling an old-fashioned wooden wagon. The large spoke wheels were caked with clumps of snow. On the cart was strapped an enormous, bushy fir tree. The truck stopped and Gavin jumped from the passenger’s side. His coat was unbuttoned and he wore no hat, but he had a length of rope over one shoulder. He waved to the kids and flashed a thumbs-up, which resulted in another round of cheers.

Evie sucked in a breath at the sight of his smile. Last week he’d seemed so preoccupied. Of course, she didn’t expect a finance meeting to be a barrel of laughs, but this was a different side completely.

“I’ll see if he needs help with the tree.” Jack loped off toward the wagon, joining Grant and a few other Mission workers in the job of wrangling the tree into the lobby.

“Will you help me hand out the cookies?” Evie turned to see a young woman holding a tray of brightly colored treats. Her name tag was sporting a blob of snow, but it was still legible.

“Sure, Simone. My pleasure.” She took the tray and started toward the swirling group of preschoolers.

From the corner of the group, Lana sang out the first lines of “Jingle Bells” in a sweet, clear voice. Evie joined in, moving through the crowd of waist-high kids, distributing cookies into mittened hands. The snow fell faster, large clumps landing on brightly colored hats. She couldn’t help grinning, although it was hard to sing and smile at the same time. To think she could have missed this moment by spending another evening at the office.

Her tray was almost empty when the song changed to “Deck The Halls.” She felt a small hand slip into hers and looked down into the face of a little girl.

“I love Christmas,” the girl said. Her lisp was so pronounced, her large eyes such a deep brown, that Evie almost laughed. So much sweetness in one little person shouldn’t be allowed.

“I do, too.” They both stood watching Gavin and Jack help carry the tree into the lobby. The children sang with gusto, if not perfectly in tune, and Evie blinked back tears.

Five years ago she was the very worst kind of person, without a real friend in the world. She’d turned her back on everyone who loved her. Chasing money and fame was all that mattered. Evie sucked in a shaky breath.

Thank You, Lord, for second chances. I won’t let You down again.

* * *

Gavin stood back to admire the tree. The Mission kids had decorated every inch as far as they could reach, then handed ornaments to Jack as he stood on a ladder. He really should be at the lab, but Frank had told him to take the evening off. Something about not being any use if he worked himself into the ground.

“You guys picked a great tree.” Evie stood by his side, shy smile on her face. She smelled lightly of something flowery, maybe roses.

“Gerry picked it out. I just tied it down.” He pretended to think it through. “But I should definitely get points for standing in the middle of Lincoln St. replacing the broken rope. I never want to stand in traffic again.”

She snorted. “Let’s hope that’s your once-in-a-lifetime moment.”

A short Hispanic woman bustled out of the double doors that led from the kitchen. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun, black eyes snapping with energy. “Gavin, is Grant in the office?”

Evie answered for him. “Marisol, I think he went to call Calista. She wasn’t feeling up to the party so she stayed home. He’ll be right back. Would you like a cookie? We have a few left.”

Lana held out the cookie plate with a smile.

“Uh-oh. Lana is making Grant cookies now. He won’t want any of my enchiladas. I made them especial.” Her words were a rebuke but she was smiling.

“Lana, why you not married? You cook like this and the men gather round.” Marisol gestured at Jack and Gavin, who froze like a pair of deer caught in headlights.

Covering her mouth with her hand, Evie looked like she was working to get her expression under control.

Lana snorted. “I’m not averse to marrying a younger man, but I’m pushing fifty. I don’t think good cookies will make up for a wheelchair and grandma status.”

Marisol paused, black eyes gone wide, cookie in midair. “Abuelita already? When did it happen?”

“No, no. Eric’s only thirteen.” Lana brushed a hand across her forehead, as if the thought pained her. “My son’s a great kid, but let’s give him a few more years. Like ten or so.”

“Ah, well, I am sure you will have many babies to cuddle.” She said this like a benediction, her dark brown hand lifted toward Lana.

“Thank you, Marisol. I can’t imagine how wonderful it will be. But you’re closer to that than I am.” Lana’s face crinkled in a smile, and both women sighed happily.

“You’re waiting for a new grandbaby?” Gavin wished he had a cheat sheet for the Mission staff and their families.

“Calista is having her baby soon. Very soon.” The older woman put a hand on her heart and closed her eyes. “Dios le bendiga. We must pray for her.”

Gavin glanced at Evie and grinned. He’d seen Calista, and the woman was as white as they came. And Grant, with his tall frame and blue eyes, was probably not related to Marisol, either. He was getting the full picture of this place and it was all about family, but not the kind he’d known.

The seriousness of what he’d seen this morning in the neonatal critical care unit intruded on his thoughts. He reached for his keys. “It was a wonderful party, but I’d better go.”

“Anything we can do, Gavin? Is the office running twenty-four hours?” Lana turned, concern lining her face.

“We are. Just keep trying to get the word out. We’re racing to stay ahead of the outbreak, but...” His voice trailed off and he could feel Evie watching him. It was the stuff of nightmares, his very worst fear, that his city would be hit with a disease he couldn’t control. That more families would suffer like Patrick’s had.

Lana reached up and squeezed his hand, sympathy written large on her features. “We’re praying.”

“Thank you.” Gratitude swelled in him. “And I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“What’s on Tuesday?” Jack mumbled through a mouthful of cookie.

“Gavin’s helping set up a soccer league for the kids.”

“Overachiever. Now I suppose I have to volunteer for that, too.” He pretended to huff, but Gavin knew he lived for sports, any sports.

“Actually, I need another coach. So, yes, you do.” He was already heading for the door. “Be there at six.” He let his gaze wander to Evie, just for a moment. When their eyes met, he felt a tug deep inside that had nothing to do with the finance board or coaching and everything to do with the fact she was a beautiful woman who had a smile that took his breath away.

A second later, Grant pushed through the far door, his phone clutched to his ear. The director’s tie was crooked and he was running one hand through his dark hair. “Yes, yes! I’ll be right there!”

The four of them froze in shock, watching the normally calm man snap closed the phone and take two steps forward. And then two more. He looked like he was sleepwalking, except for the wide-eyed expression.

“Grant, honey.” Lana’s calm voice cut across the lobby. “Are you okay?”

He looked up, a huge smile on his face. “It’s time! She’s already at the hospital!”

Gavin and Jack exchanged looks. Uh-oh. Looked like the dad-to-be was having a mental breakdown before he even got to the labor room.

“Why don’t we have someone take you over?” Gavin walked back across the lobby, holding out one hand to Grant like a lion tamer approaching a wild beast.

“He’s right. Let me get someone to cover the desk and we can take my car.” Lana rolled out from behind the desk and was heading toward the office doors. She punched in the code and hit the blue button that opened it automatically. “I’ll grab our coats.” And she was gone before he could answer.

“How long has she been in labor?” Gavin wasn’t an expert, but Calista was probably going to take a while.

“Twenty minutes. She just checked in. She didn’t want to interrupt our party if it was nothing.” Grant shook his head, dark hair falling over his forehead. “She sounded so calm. I wonder if they already gave her drugs. She said she didn’t want any.”

“Hmm. Sometimes they can be helpful.” Gavin led Grant toward the desk, one hand on his shoulder.

“Especially for the dads,” Jack murmured and Evie tried not to giggle.

Gavin glanced up, eyes creased with mirth. Their gazes locked and he watched her lips curve up at the corners.

Lana wheeled herself back through the door, her coat draped around her shoulders, purse on her lap. “Eric just left. Michelle and the child care folks helped the parents take the kids back to the family area. I’ve called a few more people.” She looked at Gavin and he nodded.

“Don’t worry. I’ll man the desk. Good thing you showed me the switchboard in case of emergencies.”

“Emergency? There’s no problem. I can drive,” Grant said.

Three of them spoke at once. “No, Lana should drive.”

Grant looked from one to the next, then grinned. “Okay, Lana can drive. Let’s go!”

And then they were gone, with only a cold gust of icy wind as a farewell.

Gavin walked behind the desk and slipped off his jacket. A new life, a precious gift to the mission family. “I was afraid we were going to have to take his keys.”

“Too excited to drive,” Evie agreed.

“Well, I’d better get. I’ve got a ski date early tomorrow morning.” Jack was already heading toward the door.

“Same girl as before? The bank teller?” Evie sounded hopeful.

“Who? Oh, right. No, she didn’t like to go out and do anything. Sort of a homebody.” Jack shrugged, as if that said it all. And it sort of did. Jack was all about the going and doing.

Evie looked at Gavin. “Won’t you need someone else here?”

He didn’t look up from the switchboard but poked a few buttons and frowned. “I’m sure someone will be here in a few minutes. They have staffers everywhere.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look toward the office doors, then the deserted lobby. Okay, so maybe there weren’t staffers everywhere. But they would come, and he wasn’t really certain about hanging out with Evie.

“I’ll just wait until someone else arrives.”

Emotions flashed through him. Concern, relief, dread. The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, the air smelled like cookies, and the excitement of a new life hung over them like a blessing. It was the perfect opportunity to get to know her better—something he was determined to avoid.


Chapter Three

Gavin could feel the heat at the back of his neck as he stared at the switchboard. It seemed to have at least a hundred more buttons than the day Lana walked him through the system. But this was what the Mission needed right now, so he was going to sit behind the desk and answer the phone. At least until someone else got there, and he prayed that would be soon.

“You really don’t have to stay.” He tried to keep his tone even, but the focus of the gorgeous brunette with the bright blue eyes was almost as unnerving as the switchboard panel. The way she laughed with Marisol, held a little girl’s hand and sang carols with Lana told him this wasn’t the gossip-hungry editor he’d imagined. She radiated energy, as if she was plugged directly into a current. He shouldn’t have been surprised, since she was Jack’s twin, but he hadn’t expected her to be so...vibrant. Quiet, yes. Jack had mentioned that part. But not this live wire of a personality.

“Not a problem. It’s not going to interfere with my social life to stay here a little longer.” She smiled then and he was glad he was sitting down. Perfect, matching dimples. And that was a definite reference to the lack of a boyfriend. He sat up a little straighter, needing to remember who she was and what she did. A journalist was not his type. The very opposite of his type, really.

There was a small pause, and then she seemed to make a decision. “So, did 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 car, he’d go back to being safe, because was she the type of woman that promised a whole lot of sorry. Smart, sweet, funny...and tied to a newspaper. Couldn’t get much further from safe than that. He had a lot on his plate without adding trouble to it. Now, if he could just remember that when he looked in those gorgeous blue eyes.

* * *

Evie walked out the doors of the Mission, and the cold cut through her wool coat like a knife. She shivered and hugged her arms to her chest. Being homeless was horrible, but being homeless in Denver in the winter was downright deadly.

She cut a glance at Gavin. His broad shoulders were hunched in his parka, his face set in a grim expression. She sighed inwardly. He obviously hadn’t offered to walk her to her car so they could chat. Evie appreciated the gesture, especially in this neighborhood. But she wouldn’t have minded if he wanted to get to know her even a little bit better.

“How long have you been on the finance board?” When in doubt, talk shop. Evie wasn’t any good at small talk, anyway.

“About five years. It’s been rough the past two, but things seem to be turning around.” He put out a hand and cupped her elbow as a group of ragged teens pushed past. Their raucous laughter echoed down the street.

“Do many public health disease specialists have experience in business?” She said it with a smile. So it was an awkward way to ask the question, but she was curious.

“Certainly not as much as running a paper would give me.”

She nodded. “Well, most of the profits from papers come from advertising, so I have to watch the business angle. We vet everything through our lawyers. We don’t want to tick off any deep pockets.” Evie said it matter-of-factly. Maybe he thought she sat at her desk and smoked cigars, yelling for the copy boys. “I think the pertussis article is important enough that we’ll make space, even if it means cutting out some fluff. The Chronicle is about informing and serving the community.”

Gavin stopped and turned to her, eyes intense on her face. He didn’t seem to notice the frigid December wind. “You’re saying the community comes first? That if you got a big story, a real shocker, you’d make sure it wouldn’t ruin anyone’s life before you ran it? If it was against your moral standards, it wouldn’t run, no matter how many copies it might sell?”

Evie could have sworn her heart dropped four inches and settled at an angle. Did he know what she’d been so many years ago? She opened her mouth to defend herself, to say how she’d only been trying to pay the bills, to get through journalism school. They’d said it would be easy. Just take some pictures. Follow the famous people and maybe expose a few liars in the process. But she didn’t say anything. There was no excuse for what she’d done.

“The Daily is the paper that runs the gossip. When I bought The Chronicle back from the bank, it was bankrupt and worthless. I wanted it to be something better, a paper that people could trust. And when I die, I don’t want to have to explain to God why I printed what I did.” Any more than she already would be. She felt her eyes burn and angrily blinked back tears. She couldn’t make up for ruining lives, exposing sins, but she was going to keep going anyway. The only other option would be to give up. And Evie wasn’t a quitter.

The chill breeze ruffled his dark blond hair, the orange glow from the streetlight casting his features into half shadow. Finally he nodded. “I see a lot of suffering on a daily basis. We need to reach the people that are falling through the cracks.”

Evie looked up at him, taking a deep breath. “I agree.” She hadn’t had to defend herself for a long time, and she felt off-kilter. Or maybe it was that steady gaze that let nothing past him.

“I can write up something tomorrow morning and bring it to you by noon. The booster shots are our best hope, especially for pregnant women, but nobody knows about it. When do you think we can run it?”

Evie did a quick mental calculation and came up with a time frame that included skipping lunch and staying hours after most of the crew had gone home. “It could run the day after tomorrow, but let’s put it in the Sunday edition. It’s the biggest. Everybody gets the Sunday paper.”

He nodded, a flicker of hope passing over his face. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”

“What got you interested in diseases?”

Emotions flitted behind his eyes faster than she could capture them. Confusion, surprise. “My best friend died in the fourth grade from chicken pox.”

Shock made her silent for a moment. “I didn’t know it could be deadly. I thought everybody got chicken pox. Parents even try to expose their kids, to get it over with.”

His face was tight with pain. “You’re right.” He paused, gaze locked on hers. “I had it. Patrick’s mom brought him over to my house so he’d catch it and be done before Christmas break was over.”

Evie felt her mouth drop open. Gavin had given his best friend a disease that killed him...at Christmas? “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too. I’m still sorry.” His voice had a hard edge to it. “And that’s why I work at the CDC.”

Evie wanted to reach out and hold him, to tell him it wasn’t his fault. But there wasn’t anything she could say that would make that kind of grief disappear.

He seemed to want to say something more but thought better of it. He nodded toward the parking lot. “I think it’s going to snow again. We’d better get you home.”

She walked toward her light blue Volkswagen Beetle and unlocked the door. He made a noise behind her that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

“What? You don’t like my car?” She was used to people poking fun at the powder-blue classic. She searched around on the floorboards for the ice scraper. There was a light film on the windshield, and she didn’t want to wait for it to defrost. Which would be about three hours with her outdated heating system.

“It’s great. I just figured you drove something nicer.”

She stood up, scraper in hand, and shot him a look. “Nicer?”

“Maybe I mean safer.”

“True, no airbags.”

“You can get those installed.” His lips quirked up in a smile, he held out one hand and she passed him the small plastic wedge.

“And what do you drive, Mr. CDC?”

“A Saab. I highly recommend them.” He made short work of the ice on the windows and brushed off the extra snow, handing back the scraper.

“Well, Edna and I are committed to each other. It’s till-engine-failure-do-us-part.”

He was grinning now, hands deep in his pockets, staring down at her. “Your car is named Edna.”

“That’s what she says.” Evie angled into the seat, dropped the scraper back on the floor and buckled up. “Thank you for the escort. And the window service.”

He didn’t answer, just raised a hand as she shut the door. As she pulled out of the lot, he was still standing there, looking amused.

The heater was going full blast and it was still twenty degrees in the Beetle, but Evie didn’t feel the cold. She turned toward The Chronicle offices, struggling to get her head back in the game. They had a big story shaping up and she needed to be ready to make decisions. But her mind kept returning to the man she had just left. He took a terrible tragedy and turned it into a life mission to help others. Handsome, yes. Educated, yes. Smart and purpose-driven, yes and yes. But all of those things added up to a man who wouldn’t want a woman with her sort of past. It was the kind of past that never went away, no matter how many community service articles she ran.


Chapter Four

“Did you get the message about the O’Brian’s car dealership ad? He says it’s faded and the type is hard to read.” Jolie plopped into the chair across from Evie’s enormous, battered oak desk and huffed out a breath. “Obviously somebody told him that. He was fine with the full color copy I showed him last week.”

Evie massaged her right temple and tried to smile. It was turning into the worst Friday on record. The newsroom was in chaos because the lawyers had nixed a major feature they’d planned. All they cared about was whether the paper would get sued. She would fire them, except that’s what she’d hired them to do, so she was stuck with following their advice.

“I’ll call him. Maybe he got ahold of a bad copy. Maybe it was passed around too much. What I saw looked great.”

She hated bad news, but Evie couldn’t shoot the messenger. Especially since Jolie was the best computer graphic designer she’d ever hired. No one else wanted to take a chance on a nineteen-year-old college dropout with hot pink highlights, but something about Jolie reminded Evie of herself at that age. Not the nibbled nails or the crazy punk-inspired clothes, for sure. It was more her obvious desire to prove to the world that she was more than just a girl. And the bucketfuls of attitude might be a little familiar, too.

“It was great, don’t you doubt it.” She shrugged and crossed one slim leg over the other, wiggling a foot until her polka-dot ballet flat hung by her toes. “Hey, why doesn’t your dad want to place an ad? I was looking at a Colorado Supplements brochure and the graphics were totally old-school. We could do a whole lot better than whoever he hired for that flyer.”

Evie dropped her gaze to her desktop and pretended to scroll through a few pages. Her father would never hire her. He thought she was just goofing around, playing at running a paper while Jack was the one who did the real work. But anybody who really knew the guy understood that Jack had about as much of an aptitude for business as the proverbial fish on a bicycle. “Yeah, I should ask him about that.”

“Of course, maybe it’s better to keep business and family separate?” Jolie pursed her lips and tapped a black polished nail against her chin.

She couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter. “Excellent advice. But since my dad has been grooming Jack to take over the family business since he was five, that boat has already sailed.”

“Speaking of that luscious brother of yours...” Jolie leaned forward, eyebrows raised.

“No, not on your life.” Evie shook a finger at her.

“But why not? He’s so handsome, and those eyes!”

“Because. He has a hard enough time getting to work as it is with snowboarding season in full swing. Throw in a girlfriend and he’d be MIA most of the time.”

“Well, I work as hard as I play, so maybe I’d inspire him.” Jolie flashed a grin as she popped out of her chair and left the office.

Evie waited for the door to close before she dropped her head in her hands. Her paper needed the revenue desperately. They were walking a fine line between solvency and bankruptcy, again. Lord, I’m trying to do the right thing here. I’m not asking for wealth beyond measure. Just enough to pay the bills.

When she’d first bought the paper, she’d fought hard to get them on solid ground. But things had slowed and The Daily was getting a good cut of their advertising customers. It was human nature that people would rather read gossip than human interest stories or exposés on slave labor. But she’d been there, done that. No going back. Even if they published community hero stories all the way into foreclosure.

* * *

“Thanks for distributing these, Lana.” Gavin handed over an armful of posters on pertussis prevention.

“Anything we can do to help, you know that.” The secretary laid the posters on the desk and cocked her head. “You look exhausted.”

“No, I’m fine. Just running a little low on sleep.” The low end of empty.

“Take care of yourself. We wouldn’t want you to miss Christmas.” She gave him a look that meant business and he nodded obediently. He would rest when there was time. If he didn’t keep working, the Mission would have to cancel all public gatherings anyway. It wasn’t something he wanted to say out loud.

Gavin’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he stepped away from the desk with a wave of apology. Lana smiled, making a shooing motion with her hand.

He snapped the phone open. “Allison, everything okay?” He hated the note of anxiety in his voice. She was a grown woman, with a son she’d taken care of all by herself, but he would always be her big brother. They weren’t related by blood, but he’d given up the step word a long time ago. She was his sister, end stop.

“Everything’s fine, Gav.” He could hear her smile and felt the muscles in his neck relax. “Just wanted to let you know we’re headed into Denver tonight. We made good time through Kansas. Nothing there to see but corn.”

Gavin leaned against the lobby wall and grinned. “Can’t wait to see you. Are you heading straight for my place?” Office workers wandered in and out of the double doors, staring at their smartphones or chatting with colleagues.

“No other place to go, is there?” Her tone was light, but the words held a lot of sadness.

Gavin knew what she meant. She’d been on her own for so long. Moving back to Denver was a big step, and hopefully it was one in the right direction. As long as Sean’s father didn’t make trouble, they would probably do just fine.

“I think it will be a whole new start for you both.”

“You’re right.” She paused, as if choosing her words. “Because I’m tired of hiding.”

Gavin straightened up. “What does that mean?”

“I’m just...ready to be honest about who I am and what happened.”

He felt his eyes widen.

“But let’s talk about it when I get there.”

Gavin took a breath, calming his thoughts. Allison didn’t need to explain everything, especially while driving. “Right. Be careful. See you real soon, sisty ugler.”

“Watch it. There’s still time for me to turn this rig around.” There was the brief sound of her laughing and she disconnected. Gavin snapped the phone closed. He’d wanted her to move here for years, right after he’d found out about Sean. But she’d been determined to make her own way. Maybe she was stubborn. Maybe it was shame. Whatever it was, he was glad she’d finally given in. His sister needed family around her, and his godson needed his uncle.

His brows drew down as he thought of her words. She was ready to be honest. How honest? To everyone? To the media? The idea of another bout of newspaper scandal made him ill. He never wanted her to go through something like that again.

But now wasn’t the time to worry about it. He strode out into the bright winter sunlight and headed for his car. God willing, they would get the whooping cough cases under control and he could really focus on welcoming her to Denver.

Of course, getting the epidemic under control involved a certain collaboration with a certain newspaper editor. Evie Thorne’s beautiful face passed through his mind. If he could just ignore those flashes of humor, that quick wit, those bright blue eyes, then he wouldn’t mind so much that he had to deal with a journalist. He had an unsettling feeling that his calm, predictable life was veering into completely unknown territory.

* * *

Yanking the cord that released the long window shades, Evie pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes and gritted her teeth. Her office had a heart-stopping view of Wolf Mountain, but the bright winter sunlight was making her head throb. Sometimes she wanted to be someone else, anyone else. Getting a call from another advertiser who’d rather pay The Daily than The Chronicle had her feeling like she should just pack her bags and head out of town.

A soft knock on her door brought her head up with a start. Gavin Sawyer stood in her office doorway, a concerned expression on his face, brows drawn together. His suit was nicely pressed, as if he was just starting his day, instead of heading into the afternoon. He had a badge clipped to his shirt pocket. Warm brown eyes and softly wavy hair made him seem casual despite the business wear. It was as if he always walked into The Chronicle on a Friday morning. Her mind stuttered to a stop.

“Are you all right?” His low voice brought her back to reality. Delusions weren’t usually concerned with your welfare.

She nodded, struggling to smile confidently.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead, but I have the main issues we need in the article, along with the most recent statistics from this week.” He took a few steps into her office, set the folder on her desk and looked out the large glass window to his right. “Nice view. Sure beats looking at posters on diphtheria.”

“Probably anything would be better than that. Does your lab have windows? Or are you a basement dweller?”

His lips tilted up a bit, as if she’d said something charming. “I don’t usually work in the lab. I have degrees in microbiology and epidemiology, but I get to spend my days in the fresh air. Mostly.”

“Until something awful comes along, like whooping cough.”

“Right.” He sighed. “It would be nice if we spent all our time trying to get kids to drink water and not soda, but it doesn’t always work that way.”

“Do you have an idea which languages need to be on the inserts?” She gestured to the chair across the desk.

“There’s a federal handout in there with brief guidelines in fifteen languages.” He settled into it, stretching out his long legs. He looked tired, a small frown between his brows. “Did you hear Calista and Grant had a little boy?”

“Sure did. I got a call from Jack, who heard it from Lana, who heard it from Jose, who got a visit from a deliriously happy Marisol.” News traveled fast in the Mission community. Plus, it seemed the entire group had been holding their breath until that baby was born.

“I peeked in at the hospital. Grant seemed to be back to normal. Proud as can be and mentally sound. We had a good laugh about him not being able to walk across the lobby that night.”

He looked around, still taking in the small office. Evie was painfully aware of the teetering piles of papers and the jumbled books haphazardly tossed onto shelves. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks. His office was probably neat as a pin.

“They say a messy desk is a sign of a tidy mind.”

“Do they?” Evie glanced around, wondering if the perpetual mess had anything to do with her mental state, or if it had everything to do with her organizational skill. “One of my employees says I use the EAS filing system. Every Available Surface.”

He grinned, tiny lines appearing around his eyes. “I would never survive in this office. How do you find anything?”

“Strangely, it doesn’t seem to be a problem.”

“So, if I moved something, right now, you could probably tell?”

Evie bit her lip, staring at the piles of papers and Post-its scattered like colorful snowflakes. “Depends on what it is.”

He stood up, leaned over her desk and wiggled his fingers. “Let’s try it.”

She fought to keep from laughing. They were going to play a game with her messy desk? Something about that grin made her want to play along. “Fine, I’ll close my eyes. Try to be very quiet.” She was almost surprised at her own flirting, but then that smile made her forget a lot of things.

She scrunched her eyes closed and put a hand over them for good measure. As if someone had thrown a switch, all her other senses went on high alert. She could hear the rustle of his shirt against his suit jacket, his slow breathing. The scent of his aftershave was deep and woodsy. She could hear, no feel him, moving very close to her. There was a tiny sound and then he said, “Done.”

She peeked between her fingers and frowned. Maybe she didn’t know where everything was. Maybe not even half of it. And then she saw the change and triumph surged through her. “You moved my pen.”

The look of shock on his face made her laugh out loud. His eyes had gone wide. “Well, I guess that proves it. Messy doesn’t mean disorganized. But how did you know?”

“I’m left-handed. I keep my pens on this side.” She waved with her left hand.

“I hadn’t noticed that.” He cocked his head, appraising her.

“Why would you?” Evie felt her face flush under his gaze.

Gavin ran a hand down his tie and cleared his throat. “So, how much space can you spare for tomorrow’s article?”

Evie struggled to switch gears.

“Half of the front and two full pages in the first section.”

“You usually have that much room on short notice?”

“Only when the lawyers tell us to shut down our biggest story of the year.” Even saying the words made her feel slightly sick. She could see the newsroom over his right shoulder, through the half-open door, and it looked like someone had hit the panic button. Her head throbbed a little, as if for extra emphasis. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. So much work, down the drain.

* * *

“Lawyers.” The word wasn’t a question, more like he was repeating her.

She nodded. “We keep them on retainer so we can pass stories by them. Otherwise we might be left open to lawsuits. It’s the kiss of death for a paper.”

“So, what exactly got shelved?” He was working on keeping his body relaxed, but he heard the tension in his own voice. Of course they’d need lawyers. Walking the fine line between getting sued and delivering the daily gossip must be a lightning rod for litigation.

“I don’t know how much you hear about the dark places in this city,” she paused, gathering her thoughts, “but there is a slave labor ring. It keeps moving. We can never quite catch them. We know some of the businesses involved. But the people we’re getting the information from are too unreliable. The lawyers said it was a no-go.”

There was a beat of silence, then another. His throat felt tight. “I do hear things, now and then. I have friends who work in the free clinics. They see girls coming in for treatment, always accompanied by men, never left alone.”

Evie raised her face, stricken. “There are those, too. Girls brought here with the promise of jobs and then enslaved. No one thinks it can happen in this city, but it does.”

“What about the police?”

“We can’t get word to the police fast enough. By the time they arrive, the groups have decamped.”

Her words hung in the air between them. So many people needed help, desperately, and sometimes he didn’t even know where to start.

“Thank you.” His voice was softer than he intended.

“For what? Failing?” Bitterness was written on every feature.

“For caring.”

She gave a small shrug and sat up a bit straighter. “Did you bring the current stats on the reported cases?”

He handed over the file.

She was busy studying the graphs and numbers. “This is bad.”

“I know. My grandmother’s been praying like crazy. She’s got the whole Women’s Guild at St. James on the case.”

“I didn’t know you went to St. James. I mean, I’ve never seen you there.” Then she paused. He knew what she was thinking. Just because someone’s grandmother went to church, didn’t mean they did. Usually grandmas held down the fort and everyone else went about their lives, sleeping late on Sunday and counting on the trickle-down effect of the prayers.

“Usually the early service.”

“Oh, I went to that one last summer when we were leaving on a trip. It was me and Jack and about forty old ladies.”

Too accurate to be funny, but he couldn’t help chuckling anyway. “Right. Just me and the old ladies. My grandmother has trained them all to treat me like their own. We have a great time at coffee after.”

Evie let out a throaty laugh that made him want to scrap his plans for the day and do something better, more fun, just the two of them. But that wasn’t really an option, in a lot of ways, no matter how that laugh tugged at him. Work was ramping up to round-the-clock shifts and Allison... Just the thought of his sister made him sit up straighter. All he could think of was how good Evie smelled and how that husky laugh made him want to take a day off work. He gave himself an internal shake. People reacted to stress in different ways, and he must be grasping at anything that wasn’t related to pertussis or fragile sisters. This was a working relationship and it needed to stay that way.


Chapter Five

His heart thudding in his chest, Gavin took the stairs down from The Chronicle’s upper floors at a quick clip. Everything would be fine. They would get the word out about the epidemic, Allison and Sean would settle in nicely and the Mission would get some big donations before the holidays. He let out a deep breath and paused in the stairwell.

It was a good thing Jolie had knocked. He had been about to make a fool out of himself, having an entire internal debate over whether to ask Evie out. So she had a heart. It didn’t mean he had to get any closer. Keep it simple and everything will be fine. Gavin took the last flight of stairs slowly, the sound of his dress shoes echoing in the empty stairwell. Timing was everything, and now was exactly the wrong time. He pushed the long metal handle and exited into the lobby. If he was honest with himself, never would be an even better time.

Twenty minutes later, with a tray of hot coffees in hand, Gavin punched in the code to the top floors of the Center for Disease Control. The building was humming with activity and not in a pleasant way. Gavin didn’t know if this epidemic was going to be something they could control. Babies got the first diphtheria, tetanus and pertussis vaccine at two months, and most of these babies were newborns. The older ones had one of the vaccines, but not the whole series. It wasn’t enough to keep them from developing the disease if they caught it from an older sibling or a parent. The most fragile infants were falling victim.

At the first door, Gavin peered in and saw Tom’s desk was empty. Piles of papers were strewn around. It reminded him of Evie’s desk, which made him think of the way she’d covered her eyes during their impromptu “spot the difference” game. His lips tugged up.

“How many more cases?” Tom asked from just behind him. His voice was quiet, subdued. He reached around and took a cup of coffee from the tray, raising an eyebrow.

“Three more confirmed, total of eleven babies in the NICU, and there are two isolated in the emergency area.”

“Well, if we’re trading bad news, Senator McHale is in your office.” Tom took a sip and nodded down the hallway.

Gavin felt like ice had dropped into the pit of his stomach. His first thought was of Allison, and the next was of Sean. The door to Gavin’s office was almost closed, revealing nothing, but they both stood watching it anyway.

“He didn’t say why he was here. I also didn’t ask. I didn’t figure he’d want to share his business with a lowly administrator.” Tom was more than that. He could run the whole local organization in a pinch. There were few things he didn’t know, and that Gavin was connected to McHale in a very ugly way was one of them.

“He’s been waiting about an hour.” Tom tossed the last bit over his shoulder as he wandered back to his desk, but the look they exchanged said it all. The senator never waited. Ever.

McHale had visited the CDC before. It was part of his election year rounds. Gavin had been struck by his utter arrogance. There were people who loved power. It happened in every profession. Unfortunately, McHale was determined to keep his power at any cost. Anything that made him look bad was blacklisted, no matter the reason. And an uncontrolled pertussis epidemic could certainly be considered a negative.

Allison was another. She’d ruined his presidential aspirations once. Revealing that he’d fathered a child out of wedlock and refused to acknowledge him might be the final nail in his political coffin.

Gavin steeled himself before opening the door, resisting the urge to knock. It was his office, after all. McHale was sitting behind Gavin’s desk, looking right at home. His dark hair was perfectly combed, manicured hands casually flicking through a stack of papers. Gavin wasn’t overly territorial, but if he hadn’t already had a bone to pick with the man, he certainly would have at the sight of McHale reading his personal notes.

“Finally back.” The man didn’t even have the good grace to pretend he hadn’t just been rifling through Gavin’s desk. He took one last peek and then tossed the stack down. Expensive suit perfectly pressed, silk tie straight as an arrow, a light tan that was more California than Colorado. He’d aged well since the last time they’d been in the same room. Or hadn’t aged at all, really. Politicians and celebrities seemed to hang at thirty for a few decades before they got wrinkles like the rest of humanity.

Gavin itched to straighten the papers, but he was so angry he forced himself to remain perfectly still. If he started moving toward the desk, he might just keep going until he grabbed McHale by the tie.

“How can I help you today?” He was proud of his easy tone and wished he could force a smile to go with it, but that was too much to ask of any man.

“I need copies of every outreach program, every vaccine push and every community education session you’ve put together. This outbreak is unfortunate, but it’s spreading unchecked.” He leaned forward, black eyes narrowed. “That’s your job, in case you didn’t know. And when you don’t do your job, it makes me look like I’m not doing my job.”

Gavin had known what was coming, had prepared for it, and it still made his blood pressure skyrocket. McHale wouldn’t know one end of a graph from another; the papers wouldn’t do him a bit of good. He was blowing hot air. And Gavin was in no mood to be bullied.

He bought a few seconds to calm himself by slipping off his coat and hanging it on the rack behind the door. His face felt hot, his collar too tight. He lowered himself into the guest chair. “I can do that. And we’re starting a new series in The Chronicle tomorrow.”

“Better be a good series. But is The Chronicle the biggest paper? What about The Daily?” McHale leaned over the desk, long fingers laced together in a contemplative pose. “Anyway, whichever one you put it in, you’ve got to be working day and night. Make sure everyone knows that this office is doing something, not just testing samples and visiting the hospitals. I don’t care if you have to go door to door. These numbers are way too high, and if it spreads from Denver to other places, they’ll come looking to see who let it happen.”

Of course they would. And there wouldn’t be any support from McHale, clearly. If Gavin hadn’t already been working on not hating the guy, he would be now.

“Well, if I’m out going door to door, they won’t be able to find me. Maybe the lab crew can give them a statement.”

The placid expression vanished from McHale’s face. “This isn’t a joke,” he barked, eyes angry slits.

“I’m not laughing.” Gavin stood up and stepped closer to his desk. “You may be concerned about how this makes us look, but I’m trying to save lives. I won’t play media consultant when there’s an epidemic.”

The senator may have been pushing fifty but he was still fit. He stood up so quickly it looked like he’d bolt over the desk. “Those papers are here to make us look good, when we need them. You think this is all about keeping babies healthy? It’s not. You’re funded by the government, which is run by politicians. If people think you’re inefficient, they complain to me. I get enough complaints and we’ll cut every program you have down to nothing.”

The words thumped and rumbled around in his head like shoes in a dryer. “I’ll give you the files and a copy of the story that’s running in The Chronicle.” He didn’t offer more.

He stood silently, debating. Gavin waited, watching emotions flash over McHale’s features. Anger, frustration, cold calm.

“Fine. And if I hear anything negative about this office, anything at all, I’ll be back. Use some of your time to cover your backsides. Even if it takes manpower away from reaching the at-risk people in this city.”

Gavin’s muscles tensed from the base of his skull all the way down his spine. “You’re telling me to take people off the regular task force and put them on media outreach, just so we can look good?”

Walking around the desk and standing inches away, his pale blue eyes cold and calculating, McHale said, “If looking good keeps your office open, then I would think you would be on board.”

They stood nose to nose, Gavin refusing to blink. He clenched his fists and willed himself to speak calmly. For Allison’s sake—for Sean’s sake—he kept his cool.

“Looking good should be keeping the pertussis from taking over the city. I don’t care if the public thinks I sit here and watch football all day. I’m going to do my job to get the preventative measures in place and try to stay ahead of the storm. The rest will have to wait.”

“Know what your problem is, Gavin? You think if you work hard, the public will see it. But honestly, the average American isn’t that perceptive. They have to be told when someone is doing their job. And part of your job now is to make sure they know how hard this office is working. You need me to make it official and put it in your job description? I’m sure I can get the director to do that.”

With those finals words, he turned on his heel. As his hand reached the door knob, he paused. Gavin felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“I know your sister’s back in town. She should have stayed in Florida.”

Blood was rushing in his ears. “She needed to be near family. Her son—your son—is growing up fast.” He was surprised at how calm he sounded.

McHale’s eyes glittered with anger. “Don’t ever say that again. She ruined my chances for a party nomination. She won’t destroy my career.”

In two steps, without his brain giving directions, Gavin crossed the room. He was twenty years younger and six inches taller, and rage was fueling his every movement. He wanted to wrap McHale’s tie around his fist and pull him in close. Through sheer force of will, his hands stayed where they needed to be: by his sides. “She didn’t ruin your chances, you did. And Sean is a child, an innocent victim. You need to reevaluate your priorities.”

For several seconds they breathed the same air, locked in furious silence. Then McHale turned on his heel and walked out.

Breathing heavily, Gavin tried to get control of his anger. Wasn’t it enough for Allison to be estranged from the father of her child? Did he have to be a power-obsessed politician concerned only with his own image?

Falling into a chair, Gavin stared unseeing at the stack of papers on his desk. His chest ached at the thought of Allison in the same city as McHale and not even getting a phone call. What a waste of a man. She’d wised up as soon as she’d found out she was having Sean. But her little boy deserved better than that.

Between a rock and a hard place, that was his life. McHale above him, pertussis creeping up from behind, and all the time there was his nephew, a little guy who never asked for any of this drama. Time to call Evie, see if she could put in some lines about the disease prevention center working overtime. Hot anger swept through him. He hated to even think of trying to spin the facts. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his time.

Was it possible to run an article that made McHale happy and still got the information out to the public? It would be an article that was three quarters sunshine and one quarter lifesaving, ugly facts. Journalists spun a web of words that changed opinion, sometimes regardless of the reality. It made him sick to even consider their expertise to sway public opinion. But McHale was going to be watching the pertussis outbreak very closely for any negative comments from the community.

Gavin took a steadying breath. Evie seemed like she walked her faith. Only time would tell if that was true. Meanwhile, he needed to focus on Allison and Sean and getting the epidemic under control. Help me remember, Lord, the only opinion that matters is Yours.

* * *

Evie felt the slam of a very small body against the back of her knees and tried not to pitch forward. She grabbed the bike rack to her left and let out a yelp.

“Sorry, Evie! Jaden, give your auntie some warning.” Stacey was trotting up the sidewalk, obviously left behind when Jaden saw Evie and made a break for it. Her rounded tummy was her only handicap, but that had been enough to give him a head start.

“It’s okay. I was just surprised.” Evie twisted around and rubbed the top of Jaden’s knitted hat. His arms were wrapped firmly around her waist, and he was grinning up at her, one front tooth missing.

“Do you see it, Aunt Evie? Do you?” He opened his mouth wider and wider, pointing with one mittened hand.

“Buddy, your mouth is open so wide I can see your lunch. But if you’re talking about that gap in your teeth, I would bet that somebody lost a tooth.”

“It was me! I’m the one!” He let go long enough to jump up and down. Huge brown eyes were even wider with excitement.

Evie shot a glance at Stacey, grinning. Her cousin was three years younger than Evie and about ten years further down the road to domestic bliss. Every now and then Evie caught the slightest sir of jealousy in her heart. Okay, maybe more than a slight stir. More like a full-blown green-eyed monster attack. The pretty blonde had lucked out first try and was married to her high school sweetheart. Another baby was on the way, who would probably have Stacey’s blond hair and Andy’s big brown eyes, just like Jaden did. Blessed. That was the word Evie would use for her cousin’s life.

“Let’s head over to the park before it gets any colder. I heard the temperature is going to drop this afternoon.” Stacey handed Evie a deli cup of what smelled like vanilla chai.

“Wow, how did I miss this?” Evie took a sip, almost scalding her tongue.

“You missed it when Jaden tackled you.” Stacey fell into step beside her as they walked toward the city center park. Lots of moms and dads and kids around on a freezing Saturday, but Denver worked that way. If you couldn’t handle the cold, you’d better stay inside or, better yet, move to Texas. The city didn’t stop for a few inches of snow, or even a few feet. It was just normal to look up and see snow on the mountains. And the streets and the cars.

Jaden raced ahead and went straight for the slide. Kids swarmed the area, adults clustered every few feet, trying to keep warm with coffee and oversize parkas.

“There’s a free bench. Somebody already scraped the snow off.” Stacey settled on one end and hunched over her coffee.

“Before I forget, there’s someone who’s just moving here and she has a little boy Jaden’s age. Would you want to have a playdate with them? To help them settle in to their new city and everything.”

“There’s no harm in that. We’re always up for a park date. How do you know her?”

“I don’t, actually. It’s the sister of someone on the finance board at the Mission. They just mentioned it and I thought of you.” Evie wrapped her hands around her cup and stared out at the playground, thinking of Gavin. She wondered if his sister would have his warm brown eyes, or his quiet sense of humor.

“Just a someone?”

“What?” Evie was caught off guard.

Stacey shot her a calculating look. “You normally use names. And a gender. Unless you’ve vowed to keep his identity a secret.”

She could feel her face getting warm. There wasn’t anything between them so there was no reason to be embarrassed. Or whatever it was she was feeling. “That wasn’t on purpose. Gavin Sawyer, male, no secret identity that I know of yet.”

Stacey grinned at her and said nothing.

“We’re also working on an article about pertussis. He’s a disease prevention specialist, works in community outreach.” There, that was Gavin in a nutshell. Except for that slow smile he had, the one that made a girl forget she hated flirting. And maybe it would be fair to mention the way his hair curled just a bit over his collar. And how he stood a good head taller than she was, and was very fit, but he never made her feel weak.

“Is he cute?”

Evie rolled her eyes, pretending to dismiss the question.

“Do I have to ask you again?” Stacey was smirking into her cup.

“Okay, a little cute.” She shot her cousin a glance. “A lot cute. He’s one of those guys that gets a first and a second look. But then when you talk to him, you forget about how gorgeous he is because there’s so much going on in his head.” She huffed out a breath. “Happy?”

“Cute and smart. Gotcha. So you’re going to use me to get to him through his sister? Not that I mind, I’m just trying to figure out my role here.”

“No! Of course not.” Evie glared out at the park, watching kids running every which way.

“Sure you don’t want me to put in a good word for you?” Stacey’s voice was shaking with laughter.

Evie said nothing, wishing she hadn’t tried to explain. She wasn’t even sure what Gavin was, except he was interesting in a way not many other men were. She met a lot of people in her job at the paper. Some good, some bad, most of them just like her. But he was different. Of course, that didn’t mean he’d want a woman like her, with an ugly little past tagging along behind her everywhere she went.

Stacey grabbed her hand. “I’m just teasing you, cuz. You don’t need my help at all. You can reel this guy in all by yourself. It’s my way of saying how thrilled I am you’ve found someone.”

Evie shook her head. “I haven’t found anybody. It’s not like that.” She would have said “at all,” but that wouldn’t have been completely true. She wished there was a little bit of reality to Stacey’s overactive imagination.





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