“The Pittsburgh Press wants to shut us down.” Father’s voice cracked with the admission.
The ledger Elissa had been reviewing in Father’s office fell to her lap. “The Pittsburgh Press? They’re the buyers? The one who gave you the offer?” Her father had never mentioned the name of the intended purchaser. Her gut sank. No doubt the high-dollar paper would want to stop the Review’s presses. How could Father not have known that?
“Yes. I was deceived.” He collapsed onto his chair and sunk his face into open palms. “They convinced me the Review would be an extension of their brand.”
Elissa’s shoulders curled forward with an exhale. “I thought you said the buyer planned to keep the staff. That the paper was simply going to change hands.” She glanced out Father’s office door window to the vacant newsroom. Dozens upon dozens of employees, from a top editor to the twelve-year-old newsie, relied on their employment at the Review. “Nothing like eliminating the competition.”
“It was tough news to discover.” His heavy shrug equaled his weighty stare on the loan agreement. “The Pittsburgh Press has offers on two other papers besides us.”
“Did you sign the contract yet? Did you officially sell?”
His chin raised. “No. Not until next Tuesday.”
“What are the names of the other two papers? The ones the Pittsburgh Press wants to shut down too?”
“The Evening Post and the Weekly Sun. Neither can afford to run their presses.”
Papers that ran a nightly edition and a Sunday-only one.
“Times are tough. Competition is fiercer than ever.” He tossed a pen onto his desk.
Guilt stung, nestling in her mind about her decision to reject the initial coverage of the Shelby story. But her heart knew the right choice had been made. Cole was supposed to be released from the hospital tomorrow, but sadly he wouldn’t have a job to return to.
He sighed. “Maybe we should consider it a blessing we stuck around this long.”
Elissa allowed the news to sink in, but instead of grasping defeat, she embraced an idea. “What if we’ve been going about it all wrong?”
“That’s kind of the point, Lissie. If we’d been doing things right—”
“No, I mean our thinking. Here we are, believing everyone is our rival, when we could be joining forces.”
Father leaned forward in his seat, pinning his stare on her. “What are you suggesting?”
“We’re done with our press by four. After that, the place empties. And since our weekend edition goes out on Saturday, the press is open Sunday.” She straightened as the vision took form. “What if we print the Evening Post and the Weekly? We can do both without inconveniencing our operating hours.”
Father stood. “That may work.” He commenced to pacing while scratching his neck—his deep-thinking practice. “If they sold their press, they wouldn’t have the overhead cost of running it. Therefore, they could pay for us to print it for them. Keeping them alive and going.”
“With that extra ongoing revenue, we could chisel down that loan in no time.”
Her father gaped at her.
“What?”
“You astound me.” He bent over and kissed her forehead. “Chip off the old block.”
Grinning, she grabbed the phone receiver and held it out to her father. “The papers may not accept this offer, but it’s putting forth our best effort, right? Now’s the perfect time.”
Father took a step back. “I would like you to make the call, Lissie. If this works out, I’m thinking about slowing down, handling less responsibility.” He patted his heart. “This ticker is going strong, and I’m going to keep it that way. Besides, I’ve always wanted to travel more with your mother. After all these years of sharing me with the paper, she deserves it.”
She lowered the receiver, setting it on the desk. “What are you saying?”
“That starting now, you’re in training for publisher. Out of the handful of Tillmans that have managed this paper, I think you’re the strongest of the bunch.” He winked and grabbed his hat from the wooden rack then held out his office keys. “Do you mind locking up?”
The significance brought tears to her eyes as she received the keys. “It’s an honor, Father.”
He smiled and left the room.
Her heart was full, not only because her lifelong dreams could come true, but because she had a God and a father who believed in her ability. Maybe it was time for her to believe in herself as well.
She withdrew the note from the Boston Globe, her gaze toggling between it and the phone. Indecision had ruled her long enough. With a ragged inhale, she dropped the letter in the trash bin.
Pittsburgh was where she belonged.
Elissa buttoned her overcoat, a million possibilities dancing in her head. The Evening Post and the Weekly had seemed interested in the plan. Because Father had the meeting with the buyers Tuesday, Elissa had requested their final answer on Monday.
Hope and unease wrestled for prominence, but Elissa believed God had dropped the idea for the solution in her heart. Her only effort now was to trust.
She pulled her purse from the desk drawer and stilled.
Cole’s pen lay centered on her desktop, as intriguing as the man who owned it.
How did it get there? She perused the empty newsroom. Everyone had gone home.
Heart pounding, she reached for it, unscrewing the barrel like she had hundreds of times over their years together. Her breath jammed in her chest.
A note.
Cole was in the hospital. How had he managed this? Had he paid for someone to deliver it?
Fingers shaking, she pulled the paper from its home around the ink cartridge. Seconds into reading, she dropped her purse and sprinted toward the newsroom exit.
Back pressed against the wall, Cole jittered his leg, eyeing the iron monster.
Had Elissa noticed the pen, or was he going to be locked in the Review building all night? Why he took risks like this, he hardly knew, but when Sister Mary Monaca had allowed him an early release, all Cole had thought about was Elissa. He had to see her. Talk to her. Hopefully, kiss her senseless.
Heels against the metal steps snapped every cell to attention.
She’d found it.
Gliding toward him, she smiled with a brightness that warmed his heart. He’d never tire of being a recipient of those nose-crinkling grins.
“I thought you were still at Mercy.” Her gaze landed on his shoulder, the sling. “How are you feeling?”
Most of the day, like ripping his arm off, but … “Right now, all is perfect.”
She bit her lip. “I got your note.”
“I see that.” He wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Do you remember the last time I asked you down here?”
She rested her head on his chest and nodded, the lemon scent of her hair engaging his senses. “You kissed me.”
“Did you know I had planned that for months, and even that day I’d considered backing out?”
Pulling slightly away, her upturned face bore confusion. “You never told me that.”
“I was scared.” That moment had pushed their relationship from casual to serious. “What if you rejected me?”
She scoffed. “I don’t think you understood how much I was in love with you.”
“I can say the same about you.” He angled back to peer into her eyes. “Even now.”
Her mouth parted, a perfect invitation. The urge to smash his lips against hers coursed through him, but something else took precedence. He swallowed and released her.
“I was wondering if you could assist me.”
Her brows lowered. “Anything. How so?”
He reached into his vest pocket and withdrew an envelope. “I never turned in my article to your father for that competition. I was wondering if you could proofread it. You’re the best around when it comes to copyediting.”
“Is that what you called me here for?” She huffed, and her cuteness reached new heights. “But there’s no contest. The Shelby case is closed.”
He clucked his tongue, and she frowned. “I promised him an article. As did you.” Flashing a smile, he waved the editorial. “I’m going to keep my word. Just need your pretty blues to look it over.”
“Okay.” She held out her hand, and Cole placed the article on her palm.
Elissa sliced a fingernail through the envelope, probably a little harder than necessary. If Cole had wanted her to proofread his article, he could have asked in a less dramatic fashion. She thought he’d summoned her to the basement for something romantic. Like last time.
She swallowed her disappointment and conjured a smile. At least he was near. The past few days had been acute torture with Mercy’s visitation rule of family only. She stepped closer, brushing against his healthy side, and unfolded the paper.
Spark,
Your soft heart, your ambition, your zeal to help those afflicted by injustice are what make you a woman like none other. You’ve held my heart since that day at Howe Springs, and now I’m asking you to keep it forever. Would you give me the honor of a lifetime and be my wife?
Cole
Her tears fell onto the letter. His wife?
Cole dropped to one knee.
Her heart thrashed louder than the press behind her ever could.
“What’d you think?” He dug in his pocket.
She glanced at the note again. This was what she’d longed for five years ago. To be by his side. To be united in the most holy way. But something was missing from the page. Eight letters seemed a trifle, but to her, they meant everything. “I confess. It seems … incomplete.”
“Indeed.” He retrieved the box, opening it, revealing a ring.
Her hand went to her opened mouth. When did he have time to purchase that? The stunning diamond winked at her as if it knew something she didn’t.
“You’re exactly right. A couple of words were purposefully left out. I wanted the privilege to voice them.”
Her breath fluttered in her chest.
“I love you.”
The shards of her heart poured as tears from her eyes.
“You should’ve heard those words long ago. Just because I hadn’t voiced them, didn’t mean it wasn’t in my soul. You’ve always been the girl for me.”
“I love you too.” The first time she’d spoken that, it’d been a disaster. This time, it was beautiful.
He cleared his throat, eyes hopeful. “So what do you say? In response to my letter?”
“Editorial-wise, it’s a bit short.” She laughed, her smile as bright as her future. “But content-wise, it’s perfect.”
“What place does it have in your heart? Above the fold, or in the funny papers? The decision is yours.”
He talked her language, and she loved him even more for it.
“Above the fold.” She bent lower and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I will marry you.”
He slipped the ring on her finger. “Finally, where it belongs.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “I purchased this ring the night before I left for Columbia.”
“What?” She stilled. “You’ve had it for that long?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He stood and reached around her, drawing her to his chest.
She angled as to not bump his sling, but Cole didn’t seem to mind about his wound. With his eyes intensely on hers, he dipped his chin, lowering until he was a touch away.
“I was a fool for not returning sooner.” He sighed against her lips. “My love for you had caused me to believe you were best without me, but now I see God put us together. And He doesn’t make mistakes.”
And with that, his mouth pressed against hers, tender but sure. His one arm held her with the strength of two. The whispers of their stormy past faded from her being. His warm touch carried the promise that matched his loyal heart.
Cole Parker had pledged himself to her. Her heart swelled with adoration for the only man who’d held her hand, kissed her lips, and now, said “I love you.” Suddenly, a lifetime seemed too short.