Hail Mary
Page 15
“I’m not marrying Hale,” she said a bit defensively.
Pushing back from her desk, her mother took off her glasses and put them down, running a hand down the sides of her nose. Liberty recognized the gesture as a sign she was stressed. Her mother crossed her arms. “You’ve told Hale that?”
Frustrated, she shook her head. “I try to tell him, but he won’t accept it.”
Her mother looked skeptical. “Liberty, you know his family has a controlling interesting in this newspaper.”
Liberty rolled her eyes. “Mother, we’re not in some third world country that has arranged marriages.”
Scowling, her mother narrowed her eyes. “Hale is good stock and has always been the boy in your life.”
Resenting those words, Liberty shook her head and looked away. “Mother, I just don’t … feel that way about Hale.”
“Oh, stop it, Liberty.” Her mother’s voice turned from professional to curt. “I have told you before it’s not fair to treat the Langreen family like this. It’s not. This alliance would be a good thing for you.”
“You mean for you.” Liberty shot back at her. Her marriage would give her mother more political power with the board.
Flaring her nostrils, her mother shook her head and looked away. “You are the most stubborn child. Always have been.”
“Good thing I’ve always been in boarding schools, isn’t it?” Liberty had never felt bad about attending boarding school … until her father died and it felt like boarding school was where her mother preferred her to be.
Liberty’s mother turned to stare at her. Her eyes narrowed. “Let me be clear, Liberty. You’re getting engaged to Hale at that party.” Liberty felt her face flush, and she tried to calm her trembling hands as her mother continued. “You’ve messed around with that poor boy for too long. Since you were children, and you know it.”
Liberty was about to respond when her mother put a hand up. “Before you give me some snippy retort, let me remind you I still control the bank accounts of that nice little trust fund you pull from, and it can be shut off like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I see all the donations you make to those refugee camps. Do you want that to end?”
Liberty wanted to rail against her mother. Wanted to tell her to shove the bank accounts, but those families counted on her money. Also, as much as she hated to admit it, she needed her mother’s support to go to the conference.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
Finally, her mother shook her head and moved back to her desk, sitting before speaking again. “Texas Waters will be a tough nut to crack, but we need a good story. Really good.” She turned to the computer. “The gal I usually send just quit on me. I need someone who can get in there and get close to him. Make him trust you. This isn’t just a fluffy piece. We need the truth about the man.”
“You mean the dirt,” Liberty said bluntly. She knew her mother wanted something juicy for the paper.
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Truth and dirt usually coincide, dear. That’s a fact of life.”
Irritation wove through her. She’d listened to her mother talk about how to report and what a good reporter did over countless formal dinners when she was home for holidays. “I want to go to the conference in Nigeria and report something meaningful.”
“Nigeria is too dangerous,” her mother said flatly.
“I won’t go off alone.” Even as she said it, she knew it was likely something she might do.
Her mother frowned. “Hmm, I’ve heard that before, haven’t I? Like last semester when I found out you’d been to Turkey.” Her mother’s tone nailed her to the wall.
She sighed. “I was—I am fine.” She stuck her chin into the air. A group of friends had taken a trip to Turkey to check out the UN camp there. “The information I gathered there will help me with the article I write in Nigeria.”
Her mother shook her head. “No. Please stop asking.
“Mother, you’ve raised me to do this. Father would want this.” Her voice softened at the mention of her father.
Turning her gaze back to her, her mother let out a big breath. “I can’t lose you too.”
Unsure of how to take any kind of vulnerability coming from her mother, Liberty softened more. “I’m not father. I’m not going into a war. I’ll be at a conference. That’s all.”
Her mother turned more matronly than Liberty was used to seeing, the lines around her eyes eased. “You never think you’re going into a war, Liberty. Sometimes, the war’s just brought to you before you can do anything about it.”
Their eyes held.
They weren’t the type of mother and daughter who shared their feelings. Since her father was killed five years ago, her mother had only spoken of it once, after the funeral. Then she’d sent Liberty back to school, telling her to focus on her studies.
Over the years, Liberty had wanted to discuss it more, but her mother had shut her down at every turn until it was just a thing between them that they never talked about.
Liberty blinked. “I will not live my life being afraid.”
Her mother threw her hands up, standing and moving to the windows overlooking the city. She hesitated, her lips tight. “You’re not going to change your mind about this, are you?”
Finally, her mother understood that. “No.”
Hesitating for a few moments, her mother whirled back. “I’ll make you a deal. You get a good story on Texas Waters, something that will sell papers, and you commit to giving the right answer at that engagement party. Then I’ll send you to the conference in Nigeria.”
She hesitated. “Mother, I can’t commit to marrying Hale. I …”
“You what, Liberty?” Her mother asked.
A nervous energy whipped inside of her. “I love Hale, as a friend, but it’s not …”
“Disney?” Her mother offered, with a sarcastic laugh. “A fairy tale?” She tsked her tongue. “Most things aren’t. I tried not to sell you the fairytale of true love, dear.”
“Did you love dad?” Liberty asked quietly. It was something she’d been thinking about, wondering about.
A devastated look washed over her mother’s face. “How could you even ask that?”
Happiness surged into her. It actually soothed Liberty to hear her mother confess this. She blinked. “I thought so.”
Her mother’s face turned severe, her lips pinched. “That’s the exact reason you should marry Hale.”
This made no sense to her at all. “But …”
Her mother put a hand up. “I’m done, Liberty. You may go.”
Turning for the door, she felt confused. “So I can go to Nigeria if I get the story on this Texas Waters?” She gestured to the computer.
Her mother’s posture stiffened, and she shook a finger at her. “Get the story, say yes to Hale.”
She frowned at her mother. “I can’t commit to Hale.”
Her mother picked up a file on her desk and opened it. “Then I can’t commit to Nigeria.”
Liberty shook her head. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, she didn’t have any job prospects and her mother did control the purse strings. She didn’t move.
“What?” Her mother looked up at her, a wary expression on her face.
She had to negotiate something … that wasn’t marrying Hale. “If I get you a good story, you let me go to Nigeria and cover the conference?”
Her mother shook her head. Finally, she waved a hand. “This article better make me want to cry.” A small smile played at her lips.
Liberty felt elated. The smile was a small thing by most people’s standards, but for her mother it was everything.
Her smile disappeared. “However, if a war breaks out between now and then in Nigeria, the deal is off.”
Liberty couldn’t quit smiling. This was the furthest she’d ever gotten in her opportunity to cover something she’d always dreamed about. There was always the possibility of war, but she knew the region was stable at the moment. Sh
e nodded, trying to squelch some of her happiness. “I don’t need three weeks to do an article on a country music singer. I’ll get the scoop on him, and the article will make you cry.”
Her mother nodded. “We’ll see. And, please Liberty … think long and hard about marrying Hale, he would make a good match for you.”
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About the Author
Taylor Hart has always been drawn to a good love triangle, hot chocolate and long conversations with new friends. Writing has always been a passion that has consumed her dreams and forced her to sit in a trance for long hours, completely obsessed with people that don’t really exist. Taylor would have been a country star if she could have carried a tune—maybe in the next life. Find Taylor at:
www.taylorhartbooks.com │ Twitter: @taylorfaithhart │ Facebook: Taylor Hart