At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories) - By Barbara Bretton Page 0,97

morning."

"It would appear so."

"Did she sound very upset?"

His mother nodded. "She seems to believe loud arguments are the only way adults communicate."

"I know," he said. "Apparently she heard a lot of them the last few years." He didn't blame Catherine's relatives for not wanting to take on the responsibility of an active, angry little girl. Most of them were in their fifties and sixties, looking forward to retirement and a life of reduced stress and strain.

"I didn't realize Gracie would be here today."

He met her eyes. "Yeah," he said, "you did. That's why you cancelled our plans to eat out."

"The two of you need to talk."

"A little late for romantic advice."

"I'm trying to help."

"And I'm trying to salvage the Gazette and figure out how to be the best father I can be for Sophie. I don't have time for the rest of this."

She leaned more heavily on her cane. Noah noticed once again that Ruth's life required more effort from her these days than it ever had before. "I've been reading your column, Noah."

Funny how he hadn't really made the intellectual leap from the act of writing to the discomfort of being read. "Ann Levine is out on medical leave and I was pulled in to sub for her."

"If what I've read so far is any indication, you are immensely qualified."

He muttered his thanks. They were private dreams made public before he had realized what he was doing. "Just filling in until we can put together a deal to sell the Gazette." He launched into an explanation about ad space availability and rates but his mother raised her hand to stop him.

"It's more than that, Noah. You're writing from the heart."

"I'm writing for a paycheck," he said, trying to deflect her words.

"You're writing for Gracie Taylor."

"I'm writing for Sophie."

"In part, perhaps, but Gracie is at the heart of it all."

"It happened a long time ago," he said after an uncomfortable silence. "She ended it. I wouldn't have." He had asked a lot of her. He knew that now. Not even love gave a man the right to expect a woman to put aside her dreams and follow him to Paris.

"A moment ago you said you wanted to salvage the Gazette," Ruth persisted.

He said nothing.

"You could do it, if you set your mind to it, Noah. You're talented. You have great vision. You care about—"

He stopped her with a look. "You asked me to put together a deal with Granite. That's what I'm doing."

"I've only been the Gazette's caretaker while you were gone, Noah. Now that you're back in Idle Point, you should be the one to decide its fate."

And the fate of the men and women who were its life's blood. She didn't say those words but Noah heard them just the same. They were a tightly-knit group at the Gazette, second and third generation employees who cared about the craft of journalism as deeply as they cared about their town and each other. The Gazette was a family operation, built on trust and loyalty. Noah's grandfather had understood that. So had Simon. After his death, when the Gazette had been in danger of going under, his mother had stepped into the breach and her warmth and good common sense had kept them afloat.

Now it was Noah's turn. He knew that if he sold to Granite News, the conglomerate would fold the Gazette into their larger family of newspapers and within a year all of the people he had come to know and care about would be out of work.

If he didn't sell, he would be committing himself and Sophie to making a life in Idle Point.

"...she needs a home..." his mother was saying, as if she'd read his mind. "Idle Point is a good place to raise a child."

Then why did you send me away?

But there was no point to asking her that, same as there was no point to believing a life in Idle Point was possible for him without Gracie at the heart of it.

#

Gracie had grown up to be a lovely young woman. She was still reed-thin, still soft-spoken, but there was strength about her that Ruth found compelling. Ruth had always admired strong women, mainly because she had never considered herself to be one. She had always deferred her desires to Simon's will, keeping his secrets, dreaming his dreams. Her rebellions had been sly rather than decisive, and the repercussions devastating. There was the sense about Gracie that she could handle what life threw her