by Marta Perry
She hurried across the grass toward them, her heartbeat quickening as she approached. How did she say this? How could she tell her father that the world was about to hear he was a liar and a thief?
The other man saw her first, and she saw the quick flare of recognition in his eyes before he turned away to point out in the general direction of Sullivan’s Island.
How did he know who she was? She’d never seen him before. Casually dressed, middle-aged. Military, she thought automatically. When you were around it all the time, you knew.
“Daddy.”
He turned around. “Amanda. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. We have to talk.”
The other man spoke up. “Thanks for the sightseeing tips. I’ll be sure to check out the places you mentioned.”
“What? Oh, yes.” Daddy was rattled. “Glad I could be of help.”
Too late, she thought. She’d seen that betraying look of recognition. Whatever was going on, this was no casual meeting. This man was in on it.
“It’s no good,” she said. “I know.”
“Honey, now’s not a good time. How about I stop by your place in a little bit, okay?”
She shook her head. There was nothing to do but come out with it.
“The Bugle is after you,” she said flatly. “They’re running a story in tomorrow’s paper. They’ve got a picture of you at the festival taking money from some contractor.” She got it all out on a rush of words and came to a stop, feeling as if she’d been running.
Her breath caught in her throat. Daddy looked dismayed. Not guilty, thank the good Lord. Just unhappy with the news she’d brought.
She grasped his hand, feeling the strength of it close around hers as it had when she was a little girl. She blinked back tears.
“I know you didn’t do anything wrong. You couldn’t have. But unless you do something to stop it, all Charleston is going to read about that in tomorrow’s paper.”
Still holding her hand, her father looked at the other man. “What do you think?”
For a moment the man’s face tightened in denial. Then he shrugged. “I guess we’d better go down to the newspaper and resolve this.”
“That’s it, then.” Ross stared across the width of the office at Cyrus, the weight of the decision pressing on him. “I’ll…”
The rap on the door gave him a welcome respite. “Come in,” he called, despite Cyrus’s frown.
Brett Bodine stalked in, followed by another man—lean, graying, with a closed face that gave nothing away.
Bodine, with his flushed face and clenched jaw, was easier to read. He’d like to take Ross’s head off.
Ross thrust his chair backward as he rose. If Bodine thought he could intimidate the press—
The thought broke off when he saw who else was there. Amanda. A quick glance was all he could allow himself, but even that was like a blow in the gut.
Cyrus took a step forward, the light of battle in his eyes. “If you’re here to talk us out of the story, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Bodine’s hands curled into fists, but before he could speak, the other man interrupted, pulling an ID from his pocket. “This isn’t precisely what you think, gentlemen.”
He held it out to Cyrus. Whatever it was, it stopped him cold. He looked, grunted, and passed it to Ross with an air of handing the situation over to him.
“Agent Baker.” He let the realization sink in. “What’s the federal government want from the Bugle?”
Baker permitted himself the briefest of smiles. “Ordinarily, nothing. But Ms. Bodine told us about the story you plan to break.”
He couldn’t prevent his gaze from slipping to Amanda. She hadn’t known about the federal agent, he could see that.
He forced his focus back to the agent, preparing to negotiate. This was familiar territory, after all. He’d often played the game of getting as much information as possible from tight-lipped officials.
“And what exactly is your interest in our story?”
“We’d prefer that you refrain from printing it.”
Ross sensed Cyrus’s feathers ruffling at that, but the older man kept silent. With a little luck, he’d let Ross handle this.
“I’m afraid we can’t accommodate you.” Ross’s mind worked furiously, trying to sort out the possibilities. Bodine might be cooperating with the feds, ready to give up his fellow conspirators. In that case, they could be playing for time.
“I’m not trying to pressure you, Mr. Lockhart. Only to prevent the Bugle and you from making an embarrassing mistake.”
Ross stiffened at the expression, but kept a slight smile pinned to his face. It was all part of the elaborate dance, with Baker determined to give away as little as possible while Ross was equally set on getting the whole story.
“It’s good of you to be concerned for the Bugle, but you’ll have to convince us with facts.”
“Tell him and be done with it,” Bodine snarled. “He’s not going to cooperate for less.”
“Daddy…” Amanda began, and then stopped, hands moving in a small gesture of helplessness.
The gesture seemed to clutch his heart. For a moment he could barely breathe for the desperate need to protect her.
Agent Baker shrugged. “You realize that this is off-the-record.” He looked from Cyrus to Ross. Seeming satisfied with their nods, he went on. “Several months ago, we received a report of possible irregularities in the awarding of contracts at the Coast Guard base here. The report came from Brett Bodine.”
A small gasp escaped Amanda.
“We investigated.” Baker went on as if he hadn’t heard. “With his assistance, we were able to identify the officer involved.”
The facts Ross thought he knew flew into the air, rearranged themselves and came down in a new pattern. “But the meeting with Winchell. The packet of money.”
“Not money,” Baker said. “We’ve managed to persuade Mr. Winchell to cooperate with us. He handed over a list of the deals made by the officer.”
Bodine’s expression tightened, if that was possible, and Ross understood. The man was in pain at the idea that someone under his command had abused his position.
“We need you to kill the story until we’ve completed our investigation,” Baker said. “I can assure you, it’s in your country’s best interest.”
“Who is the guilty party?” Ross planted both hands on the desk. Baker had to give them more than that.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“You can give us an exclusive,” Ross countered. “If we don’t jump the gun on you, that’s the least you can do.”
Baker’s noncommittal mask was probably hiding some furious calculating. How far could he go?
“Forty-eight hours,” he said at last. “You don’t mention anything in the press for forty-eight hours, and we’ll give you a couple hours’ head start on the story. That’s the best I can do.”
“It’s a deal,” Cyrus said, clearly unable to contain himself any longer.
“Good.” Baker shook hands briskly, first with Cyrus, then with him. “We’ll be in touch.”
Bodine took the hand Cyrus extended. For Ross, he had nothing but a furious glare. And Amanda…tears had spilled over, trickling down her cheeks.
Bodine and Baker turned to the door, Cyrus behind them, probably trying to get another fragment or two about the story.
He didn’t bother to listen. All he could see, all he could think of, was Amanda. He reached out, not quite daring to touch her.
“Amanda, please. Stay. Just for a moment.”
Her father spun at the words. “My daughter has nothing to say to you.”
Amanda wiped away tears with the palm of her hand. “It’s all right, Daddy. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
She closed the door behind them and turned to face him.
She didn’t want to stay. Amanda pressed her palms against the solid wood of the door behind her. Talking to Ross was only going to m
ake the pain in her heart worse. But she wouldn’t be a coward about it.
Ross’s face was a taut mask, revealing nothing of the feelings behind it. If any. Did he feel anything but ambition? Want anything but success?
A cold shudder went through her. “There’s no point to this.” She turned away, groping for the doorknob.
“Wait. Please. You need to see something.”
She didn’t move.
“Please.” His voice softened to a husky rumble. “Just look at this, and I won’t ask you for anything more.”
She turned back slowly to face him, and he swung his computer screen toward her.
“Look. This is the front page of tomorrow’s edition, made up before we heard the agent’s story.”
She had to brace herself before she could look at it. Had to prepare herself to see the photo of Daddy. Above the fold, Cyrus had said.
She stared. Blinked. And took a step toward him, shaking her head to clear it.
“What? Where is it?” The lead story was a follow-up to the rescue. She leaned closer, scanning the page. Nothing. There was no mention of anything else to do with the Coast Guard Base.
She touched the screen, reading it through to be sure she wasn’t making any mistake. Then she looked up at Ross’s face.
“I don’t understand. You were going to run the story in tomorrow’s edition. Why did you give it up before you’d even heard the explanation? Did Cyrus change his mind?”
“Not Cyrus. I changed my mind. Cyrus…well, he went along with me in the end.”
Meaning Cyrus hadn’t wanted to. She tried to still the spinning of her mind. Tried to hold out against the hope that began to blossom inside her.
“You convinced him not to run the story. Why?”
He turned away slightly, as if he didn’t want her to see his face. His fingers pressed against the desktop until they were white.
“You.” He stopped, cleared his throat. “When I saw how much you were hurt, it forced me to take a good look at myself.” He darted a glance toward her. “I didn’t like what I saw. The man my grandmother had hoped I’d be—he’s pretty well buried by now, isn’t he?”
He didn’t seem to expect an answer to that, which was fortunate, because she didn’t have one.
“I’ve been blaming everyone else for what happened to me back in D.C., but the truth is that a major part of the blame falls squarely on me.”
That she could respond to. “Your friend betrayed you. That wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m the one who fell for it. I’m the one who rushed into print. I was too proud, too sure of myself.” The muscles in his neck moved convulsively. “I never stopped to ask myself whether I might be wrong.”
The chill that had gripped her heart began to fall away. Ross was taking down his protective barriers, piece by piece. He was letting her see who he really was.
“My grandmother expected me to become an honorable man who relied on God for guidance. Instead, I became a cynic who relied on nothing but his own ambition. That’s not who I want to be.”
He was facing her now, close enough that she could see the pain that darkened his eyes and twisted his lips.
“No,” she said softly. “It isn’t who you are, not really.” She tapped the computer screen. “You put your job on the line with Cyrus to delay the story, even before you knew the truth.”
“Cyrus thought I was crazy.” He shook his head. “Crazy was what I was before, when I let myself be eaten up by anger and ambition. Maybe being humbled by losing everything I thought was important was the only road back to finding out who I really am.”
Tears spilled over again, but they were good tears. “I’m sorry you went through that. But if you hadn’t, I’d never have met you.”
“Maybe you’d be better off if you hadn’t.”
“Don’t say that.” She hesitated, wanting to put into words the effect he’d had on her. “Being challenged by you made me realize what’s really important to me.”
He reached out slowly, letting his fingers brush her cheek. Warmth flooded through her, erasing the last bit of tension.
“I already know. Your family. Your faith. Any chance there’s room for me on that list?”
She couldn’t breathe for the happiness that filled her, bubbling up until she felt she might lift off the floor. “There’s plenty of room for you.”
“I love you, Amanda Bodine.”
She caught his hand, pressed it against her lips and said the words. “I love you, Ross.”
“Enough to marry me?” There was the faintest trace of uncertainty in the words.
“Definitely,” she said.
He drew her against him, his lips claiming hers in a kiss that promised a love that would last a lifetime. Her arms went around him, holding him close, knowing this was meant to be. God had planned them for each other from the beginning. They’d just both been too stubborn to see it.
Ross pressed his cheek against hers. “My grandmother would be delighted.”
Joy bubbled up in her again. “Miz Callie will be, too.”
He held her back a little so that she could see the love burning steadily in his eyes. “I’m afraid your father is not going to be exactly pleased.”
“He’ll come around when he sees how happy you make me,” she said. “He’ll see that God meant us for each other. Forever.”
Epilogue
Miz Callie had insisted on a family dinner to celebrate Amanda’s unexpected engagement. Amanda wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. Maybe it would have been better to wait until everyone had gotten used to it—in this case, everyone being her father.
Still, so far they all seemed to be behaving themselves. Against Miz Callie’s will, everyone had brought something, with the result that there was enough food spread out on the long table at the beach house to feed half the island.
Since they’d long since outgrown the number of available tables, folks had spread out all over the place, and the volume of Bodine chatter was faintly overwhelming, even to someone who was as used to it as she was.
She glanced at Ross, sitting next to her on the living-room floor. He smiled, seeming unaffected by the clamor, and leaned over to kiss her cheek lightly.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Very much okay.” She moved a little closer. “You’re officially accepted, I do believe.”
“More or less,” he said, but it didn’t seem to bother him that Daddy wasn’t quite reconciled.
“Of course you’re accepted.” Miz Callie, sitting behind them in her favorite rocker, touched Ross lightly on the head. “Brett is even being pleasant.”
“Maybe he’s just relieved that this investigation is wrapped up and moved off the front page,” Ross suggested.
“Well, now, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Miz Callie’s face clouded a little. “He took it hard, knowing that an officer under his command betrayed the service that way.”
They’d all been shocked to learn that her father’s aide, Thomas Morgan, had been using his position to take money under the table from contractors in exchange for doctoring the bids.
“Nobody wants to hear that a fellow officer is crooked.” Adam, arms wrapped around his knees, leaned forward to join the conversation. “That’s someone you might have to trust your life to one day, besides the fact that it gives all the honest men and women in the service a black eye.”
“I think most folks know enough not to blame anyone else for what one person did.” Miz Callie rested her hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “As for us, I’d say we have a lot to celebrate.”
She’d raised her voice a little on the words, and the room seemed to fall silent as she spoke. Miz Callie’s descendants turned their faces toward her.
“We celebrate our Win’s safety after a dangerous mission.”
Win smiled, looking a little embarrassed as sounds of thanksgiving echoed through the room.
“We celebrate the fact that truth has come out in a difficult situatio
n.” She looked at Amanda’s father, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Your daddy would be proud of you, Brett. You did your duty.”
More than one person blinked back tears, Amanda knew. They realized, none better, just how hard that had been for her father.
“And we celebrate the truth coming out about another family member who did his duty.” Now a tear did trickle down Miz Callie’s cheek, but her hand on Amanda’s shoulder was strong. “We know now that Ned Bodine served his country in the navy during the war, and he’s going to be honored as he should be for that service. Adam has learned that Ned didn’t die in the war.”
A murmur of surprise went through the room at that. Most of them had just assumed that Ned hadn’t come back.
“We’ll find out what became of him afterward, Miz Callie.” Ross took her hand. “I promise.”
Miz Callie touched Amanda and Ross, her touch seeming to link them to all the generations that had gone before. “And we share the happiness of Amanda and Ross. May their love grow and flourish all their days.”
Amanda let her gaze move from one face to another around the room—her kin, the people she knew best in the world, linked by faith and by love. She had them, and now she had Ross. Her heart was filled to overflowing with thankfulness.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing to pick up the second book in my new Love Inspired series about the Bodine family of South Carolina. Amanda Bodine takes center stage in this story as she struggles to find her place in the world, defend her family and commit to true love.
Amanda and her hero, Ross, are both searching for the secret to who they really are and what God wants for them. I’m sure many of us have walked that road, wondering whether we’re really on the path God intends. I hope you’ll identify with Amanda’s struggles.
I hope you’ll let me know how you felt about this story. I’d love to send you a signed bookmark or my brochure of Pennsylvania Dutch recipes. You can write to me at Steeple Hill Books, 223 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279, e-mail me at [email protected], or visit me on the Web at www.martaperry.com.
