Unconsciously, Nancy laid a hand on her stomach. “There’s our child,” she said stubbornly.
“He doesn’t feel he deserves a loving wife and a family. Do you think he’ll feel he deserves a child or that he’s forfeited his right?” Nancy blanched and Jillian laid a hand over hers. “We can get through to him, Nancy. Everything’s going to be all right. Do you trust me?”
Nancy stared at Jillian. Slowly, she nodded.
Jillian let out a breath. “Good. Call and tell Dawn we’re going to have him in her office tomorrow. Don’t tell her where he is, though. There’s a family meeting over in the clinic conference room at ten. Come there and we’ll work out what happens next.” She reached out to give Nancy a hug. “We all want what’s best for Robbie and you, Nancy. We’re going to bring him home. Trust in that.”
“All right, guys, that’s what we’ve got so far.”
Gil sat in the morning news meeting with the thirty-some-odd editors and team leaders of the Gazette. The long conference table was littered with coffee cups, papers, folders.
The editor in chief, Walt Pinter, rose. “Get out there and put together a paper.”
The group of them headed out the door and into the cubicle farm that was the Gazette’s news floor, already focusing on the tasks of the day ahead.
The mail cart was stopped outside Gil’s office. “More of this stuff,” grumbled Pat Danley, the mail clerk. “I’m getting married in three days, Reynolds. I’m going to be ticked if I throw my back out handling your mail.”
“You’ll survive, Danley.”
“Easy for you to say.” He rolled the cart forward.
Gil stepped into his office, skirting the full canvas bag that Pat had deposited next to its companions. Curious, he opened an envelope and started to read. There was a knock at his door.
“Cool, you’re out of the meeting.” It was Fetzer, smiling broadly. “I’ve got a live one, chief.”
“Yeah?”
“Robbie Logan. My doc source tells me that the family’s found him and they’re planning to drag him back, kicking and screaming.”
“Drag him back? Where is he?”
“Vegas, can you believe it?” Fetzer grinned. “If you’re going to violate probation, you may as well do it right. Anyway, I need travel money.”
“Travel money? For what?”
“To cover the story.”
“In Vegas? I bet you want to cover the story.”
“I’ve been on this thing for months,” Fetzer protested.
And Gil thought of Jillian. “Forget it, Mark. If anyone’s going to handle this one, I am.”
It wasn’t often that you could expect people to drop everything and show up at a midmorning meeting without notice, but she didn’t come from an average family, Jillian thought as she looked around the Children’s Connection conference room. She came from a special family, indeed.
She stood. “Thanks for making it on such short notice, everyone. I appreciate it and I know Nancy does. I’m sure you’ve all gotten the news that we’ve found Robbie. Or, rather, Scott has. I’ll let him tell you about it.”
Dark and just a little bit dangerous looking, Scott leaned back in his chair. “I called up a local guy in Vegas who owes me a couple of favors. He was able to get a lead on Robbie. I was out there yesterday morning and got a visual on him. My guy has someone on him making sure he stays put.”
“Where is he?” Nancy asked, hands folded on the table before her. She appeared pale but composed. Unless you noticed that her knuckles were showing white.
“He’s at the Sandstorm Motel near downtown. According to my guy, he’s been doing day labor. Construction,” Scott elaborated. “Working under the table. Assumed name. He’s paying cash by the night at the hotel. Goes by the name of Rhett Ganz, which I assume he’s shortened from Everett and Logan. Over to you.” He nodded to Jillian.
Everett. The name Robbie’s kidnappers had given him that he’d used most of his life. The name that she suspected deep down inside he identified with more than Robbie.
She stirred. “Thanks, Scott. So we know where he is. His probation officer told Nancy that he has until tomorrow to show up in her office. If he can do that, she might be able to avoid sending him to jail. He’ll probably have to do community service on the weekends or something like that, but he won’t do time. If we blow it, then he’ll be facing at least some time in a cell.”
She looked around at them. “Robbie’s smart enough to know the kind of trouble he’s courting. I guess that tells us he feels like what he’s running from is worse. Our job will be to convince him that he’s got a good, happy, productive life to come back to. I think, and Lois agrees with me, that our best bet is to do an intervention.”
“You mean, just show up as a group?” Nancy asked.
“Exactly. I know he’s not big on crowds but he knows us. We’re family. Together, we can show him how much he matters, how much he means to us. It’s just a matter of—”
They heard a commotion out in the hall, voices coming closer.
“You can’t go in there,” Jillian heard Sue object. “It’s a private meeting.”
“I don’t give a damn,” a man’s voice replied, and the door to the conference room was wrenched open.
It was Gil, dark and vivid and there enough to take her breath away. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, not sounding sorry, at all. “This won’t take long.”
His eyes met hers and in simultaneous joy and despair, she knew: she was in love with him. It snapped through her like an electrical shock. She loved him. It might be her curse and it might be impossible, but it was her reality.
She just had to learn how to live with it.
He was carrying something, Jillian saw, a sack thrown over his shoulder like Santa Claus.
She searched for calm. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard you were going after Robbie.”
Nancy made a noise of distress.
Jillian bristled. “How did you—”
“We’ve got our sources.” Gil gave a humorless smile and thumped the bag to the ground. “Anyway, I figured you ought to have these.”
“Who do you think you are, barging in here like this?” Terrence interrupted from behind him.
Gil turned to give him a level stare. “Gil Reynolds, editor with the Gazette.”
“What the—” Terrence came up out of his chair.
“David,” Jillian said quickly.
“Come on Dad, hear him out,” David said, moving from where he’d been lounging against the wall near the door to put a hand on his father’s shoulder. And aim a weather eye at Gil.
Gil gave him a nod. “I wrote an editorial this weekend about Robbie. This is the mail we’ve gotten in the past three days. One of the bags, anyway. I couldn’t bring them all.” He loosened the cord that held the canvas shut and dumped some of the letters out on the conference table.
“What was the editorial about?” Jillian asked.
Gil pulled a folded-up piece of newsprint out of his pocket and handed it to her.
And she looked down at the page.
When is enough enough? When is the debt paid? When does a man get to go on with his life? If you asked Robbie Logan, he might tell you never.
Assuming you could find him.
That’s because Robbie has left Portland, tired, probably, of the unending public scrutiny and censure. When and if he returns, it will very likely be to a jail cell rather than his wife’s side. You see, Robbie made the mistake of thinking that redemption was possible, that he could start again.
When it comes to people who have made mistakes, though, we’re not likely to cut them slack.
In the debate of nature versus nurture, there is much discussion of environment creating a stunted rose or a luxuriant weed. Genes win out, so the belief goes and so it happened with Robbie. Despite all he had gone through, Robbie ultimately did the right thing three years ago. Why, then, can’t we forgive and forget? The parents
and children affected by Charlie Prescott’s schemes did. So did the Department of Corrections.
Why not us?
Robbie Logan was trying to redeem his life, but the wind of public outrage blew down that house of cards. Maybe it can be built again of stronger stuff. So I will say it here in this space first: you are seeing the end of the Gazette’s coverage of Robbie Logan.
Sometimes, enough really is enough.
The editorial was signed Gil Reynolds.
The words swam on the page before her. Stunned, Jillian looked up at him. “You wrote this?” she whispered. “Do you mean it?”
“Trust me,” he said sardonically.
“All of these letters are in support of Robbie?”
“And printouts of e-mails. I thought you might be able to use them to help convince him to come home.” His lips quirked. “See? Newspapers do have their uses.”
She looked into his eyes, trying to gauge his mood. His face was unreadable. He’d written the editorial, brought the letters, come to find her. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
Not necessarily, she realized immediately. Gil would never write an editorial just to gain her favor. If he wrote it and put his name on it, it was because he believed in the words he was setting to paper. Just as he’d have brought the letters because he thought it was the right thing to do. He’d gotten it, and that was important. But was he here only to discharge an obligation or was he here for her? Could they get past all the harsh words they’d flung at one another and find another chance?
Could she make herself trust?
Nerves warred with hope within her. She had to try, she had to. She had to make things right between them. That wasn’t the most important thing, though, she reminded herself, not just then. The most important thing was bringing Robbie home.
She turned to her family. “This could be what we need to convince Robbie if the intervention isn’t enough.”
“If this doesn’t do it, I’m not sure what else could,” Nancy said, glancing up from the letter she was reading with the first expression of hope Jillian had seen on her face in over a month. “We just need to find him in time.”
“The clock’s running, folks,” Scott said. “He’ll be off work around three. If we want to catch him, we need to roll.”
“I’ll put my travel agent on it,” LJ said, pulling out his cell phone. “We’ve evolved a close, personal relationship over the past two months.”
“I have a better idea,” Gil interrupted. “My buddy Alan Barrett has a private jet. Assuming he’s not using it, I’m sure he’d be happy to loan it for the trip. He owes me,” Gil explained. “I’ll just go give him a call.”
Jillian watched him walk out into the hall, nerves jumping in her stomach. She had to talk with him, she had to try to set things right. He loved her, he’d told her as she’d left his condo that night. Despite everything, he’d said it.
If only he hadn’t changed his mind.
“Jillian, listen to this,” Nancy said excitedly.
“Our son Chad has been at the Children’s Connection day care center for a year. I’ve never seen a better-run facility. Mr. and Mrs. Logan are unfailingly cheerful, kind and patient. By all means, hire Robbie back.”
“That’s great, Nancy.” Jillian glanced back over to Gil, in the hall. She took a deep breath. She had to remain calm, but it was hard to do when she felt her entire life was hanging in the balance. Suddenly, she noticed David watching her as he leaned against the wall, a little half smile on his face. As she looked at him, he gave her a wink.
“Alan says the jet’s out at the executive airport,” Gil announced, walking back in. “Assuming you’re ready to go, you could be there this afternoon.”
“We,” a voice said. Jillian looked over to see David giving a genial smile. “We could be there.”
“We?” Gil echoed. “I kind of figured this was a family show.”
“Not at all. The letters are a key part of the effort. I think you need to go along to vouch for the bag. Besides—” he straightened to throw an affable arm around Gil’s shoulders “—it’ll give us a chance to get to know you. I’m David Logan, by the way. Jillian’s twin brother.”
Chapter Sixteen
It seemed patently unfair to Jillian that all she wanted to do was get five minutes alone with Gil and suddenly that was the last thing that was possible. Robbie, she reminded herself as the entire Logan clan, plus miscellaneous spouses and Gil, carpooled out to the airport. Robbie was the important one here, especially with Nancy looking as though she was holding on with her last bit of nerve. They needed to get Robbie home. Everything else could wait, however little Jillian might want it to.
So it was that she found herself standing with the rest in the hangar at Hillsboro Airport, watching the mechanics and pilots ready Alan Barrett’s jet to tow out. Jillian walked about restlessly, shivering in the shade of the building.
The she saw Gil standing alone out on the tarmac, watching a green-and-yellow Cessna that had just started up. Her mother had shepherded Nancy off; everyone else was involved in other conversations. Jillian took a deep breath and walked out into sunlight.
“Gil?”
He turned to her. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She couldn’t read his expression behind his sunglasses.
“Ready to go?”
“As ready as I can be,” she said. “There’s a lot up in the air.”
“Give it a few minutes and we will be, too.”
They were already, she thought, searching for a way to start. She was a therapist; emotions were her stock-in-trade. She knew what she wanted to tell him. Why, then, was she standing here staring at him, tongue-tied?
Begin at the beginning.
Instead, she cleared her throat. “I just wanted to say thank you. For the editorial, for bringing the letters, for coming here. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
He seemed disappointed, somehow. “I went back and looked at the articles we’d done on Robbie. They didn’t tell the whole story. The editorial finished it.”
“It pretty much said it all.”
He nodded. “All I had to say.”
All? she wondered.
Across the apron, the Cessna began to move, propeller whirling.
Begin at the beginning, Jillian told herself, rubbing her arms. “About the other night,” she began.
He turned to look at her then. “Yeah?”
“You said some things.”
“We both said a lot of things.”
“You were right about some of them. A lot of them.” She watched the Cessna roll toward the runway. “I don’t let a lot of people in. I never have. When you learn things as a kid, it’s hard to change those habits.”
Gil put his hands in his pockets. “Given what you learned as a kid, I think it’s a damned miracle that you’ve become who you are.”
“I could be better,” she said.
“We all could be. And sometimes we make one another better. Isn’t that part of what being with people is all about? I’m a better person because of you. I’ve learned things.”
“What I said about your work at the paper was wrong. I understand why you had to run the story about Robbie. That doesn’t mean I liked it but I understand why you did it. I was wrong to say otherwise. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You made me think. I’ve always told myself I did my job for the community but I’ve never let myself become a part of it. You taught me how.”
He pushed up his glasses and looked at her. Suddenly, it was as though nobody else was there, just the two of them. And it was like it always was with him, the immediate connection, as though they were looking inside each other. He was a man of honor and bravery and she loved him. She’d tried to fight it, tried to deny it but there was no point. Her heart was his. He was the man she loved and he had given them a chance, a chance for happiness.
She just had to find the courage to grasp at it. “When I talked with you the other night, befor
e we…”
“Made love?” he supplied gently when she colored.
She nodded. “I had no idea when I got to your house how I was ever going to tell you. It seemed too enormous. I was absolutely tied in knots over it. But you made it easy.”
“I care about you, Jillian. It wasn’t hard to listen.”
I care about you. What had happened to “I love you”? she wondered. Had he changed his mind?
Out on the runway, the Cessna was taxiing, gathering speed. She had to take the risk, Jillian realized. She had to trust. Taking a deep breath, she made herself meet his eyes. “I missed you this week. I thought about you all the time.”
“Not nearly as much as I thought about you,” he said.
She wanted to look away but she made herself hold his gaze. She swallowed. “I don’t have a lot of practice opening up but I want to learn. I want to be with you, Gil. I want to see if we can make this work.”
“You mean that?”
With a roar, the Cessna lifted into the air.
And suddenly, miraculously, it was easy. “I love you, Gil. I realized it the minute you walked in today, before you ever said a word. I want you in my life. I don’t know what shape that will take, I don’t care. I just need you there. I love you,” she repeated.
She’d barely gotten the words out before he wrapped his arms around her. “Say it again,” he demanded.
“I love you.”
He fused his mouth to hers and the joy bubbled up inside her. “God, Jillian, you have no idea what this week was like. I thought I’d lost you forever.”
“Not a chance,” she said, smiling into his eyes. “You got under my skin too far to ever get you out.”
“I love you,” he said. “I thought I was just going to go nuts when you walked out last week. We’re going to make this work, I don’t care what it takes.”
“Of course we will,” she said. “Because it’s right.”
Gil parked the rental van down the street from the Sandstorm Motel, before a stucco building painted with murals. The motel was cramped and seedy and old, packed into a small lot off to one side of downtown. The plastic sign was missing a chunk at the bottom so that the fluorescent tubes showed through. Cracked and peeling paint covered the trim.
Always A Bridesmaid (Logan's Legacy Revisited) Page 19
