her voice. “I’ve wondered if you’d called Sybil Williams.”
“Yes. We met on Friday.”
Kelly breathed a relieved sigh. “Thank goodness. She really does know what she’s doing.”
“I’m sure of it, and you were right. I like her a lot.”
“Good, good. Well, I’ll rest a little easier on that score. Come and say hello to the others.”
She led Lori to the gazebo, Lori pushing the stroller. Sandra beamed a welcome at Lori from a lawn chair placed dead center of the gazebo’s plank floor, her sparkling brown eyes so like her daughter’s. The resemblance ended there, though.
In many ways, mother and daughter were exact opposites. Kelly was slim and neat, even a tad uptight, while at fifty-seven, Sandra was on the plump side and more than a bit flamboyant. She’d undoubtedly spent a small fortune on hair spray over the years. Today she wore a little triangular scarf over her normal puffy, teased-up style. The checked scarf matched perfectly the large S on the shoulder of the bright blue blouse that she wore over a long denim skirt.
Kelly had been one of the first children placed for adoption at Tiny Blessings. She and Sandra had realized their connection only last year during Ross’s investigation into Barnaby Harcourt’s misdeeds. As different as they were, the reunited mother and daughter had grown close, proof positive, to Lori’s mind, of how God worked in the lives of His children. A survivor of breast cancer, Sandra still wore a pink rubber bracelet in honor of her recovery.
Tony Conlon, Sandra’s “particular friend,” occupied the chair at her side. He wore jeans, a T-shirt and suspenders—though why he would need suspenders, given the size of his belly, Kelly couldn’t imagine. She chalked it up to his penchant toward small eccentricities. Lori found Tony to be a delight with his quick smile, quick wit and white hair and beard. She often stopped in his shop, Conlon’s Gift Emporium, just to exchange repartee with him.
“My favorite girl reporter!” Tony exclaimed, showing a lot of white enamel and winking broadly.
Lori laughed, partly because of the old joke, partly because she knew it pleased Tony. A widower whose only daughter lived in Florida, he was a likable, charming fellow and simply wild about Sandra Lange.
Lucky Sandra, Lori thought, envying the older woman such devotion. Inspiring such devotion seemed to be a family trait.
Ross Van Zandt stepped up next to his wife and slipped an arm around her shoulders. Lori sighed inwardly. She wanted that kind of love, but she accepted that it might not be God’s will for her. Lucia, however, clearly was, and that, she told herself sternly, was enough. If she could just keep Lucia with her, she wouldn’t ask for romance or anything else.
Olivia Cavanaugh skipped over to peek at the baby. “Awww, she’s so cute.” Lucia sighed and squirmed, rubbing her nose with one tiny fist, and Olivia giggled. “Joseph does that sometimes. Mama says a baby’s dreams are delivered on the flutter of angel wings, and that’s why they jerk and stuff, because the angel’s wings brush them.”
Lori smiled. Joseph, Ben and Leah Cavanaugh’s son, was only a couple months older than Lucia. “What a lovely thought.”
Ben stepped up and laid his big, capable hands atop his daughter’s narrow shoulders. “Now, don’t wake her, Livy.”
“Oh, Lucia is a champion sleeper,” Lori told him. “I sometimes think maybe she naps a little too much.”
Ben smiled. “I wish I could say that about Joseph. He kept us up all hours for months, and even now sometimes that boy just seems to vibrate with energy. I think he’s going to walk before he’s six months old.”
“Speaking of Joseph, where are he and Leah?” Lori asked.
Grinning, Ben jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Leah’s putting out our lunch, with Joseph on her hip, no doubt, grabbing everything that comes within reach.” He shifted his gaze to the Van Zandts. “I just came by to let Kelly and Zach know that I’m making arrangements to meet my birth mother’s family.”
As a child Ben had been placed for adoption by Barnaby Harcourt, but until recently no one had known who his biological parents were. Records had recently been discovered during renovations hidden in a wall at the Harcourt Mansion, and Ben’s had been among them.
“Ben, that’s wonderful!” Lori blurted, thinking how blessed he was to have discovered family.
Of course he already had Olivia, his adopted parents and his adopted brother, Eli, who happened to be Lucia’s pediatrician, and now Leah and baby Joseph, not to mention his sister-in-law, Rachel, and brand-new niece, Madeleine. But Ben had suffered much loss in his life, too. Not only was Ben’s birth mother deceased, his first wife had died long ago—cancer, if Lori wasn’t mistaken. He must be thrilled to have found his biological siblings.
Lori would have fallen on her knees and cried out thanks to God if she had been so blessed. She was shocked to see the tall, muscular carpenter duck his dark head and look uncertain. He probably wished he hadn’t spoken up in front of her.
The trouble with being a reporter was that everyone always feared that they would see themselves in print if they weren’t careful. But surely they all knew this wasn’t news to her. Kelly and Ross had given her coworker Jared Kierney the story themselves, and Jared had passed the info on to her when she’d taken over the Tiny Blessings series from him. Both she and Jared had been very careful about what they’d used.
“Well, we better get back,” Ben said, nudging Olivia and backing away.
Tony made the observation, “Good man, that Ben Cavanaugh. Done a heap of work for me around the shop. Excellent carpenter.”
Murmurs of assent went around the small space as the Cavanaughs moved away.
Ross glanced at his wife, putting on a friendly face. “Can we have a private word, Lori?”
“Sure.” She looked down at the still sleeping baby, her hair sliding forward. Even held back from her face by a narrow elastic band, her hair constantly fell over one eye.
Sandra insisted that she and Tony be allowed to watch over Lucia while Lori and the Van Zandts spoke a few feet away.
“You don’t have to worry,” she told them. “I won’t be printing Ben’s plans on the front page of the Richmond Gazette.”
“Well, of course you won’t,” Kelly said dismissively. “We never thought you would.”
“That’s not your style,” Ross confirmed.
“Then what’s this about?” Lori asked, puzzled.
Ross lowered his voice to say, “We have a favor to ask, but first we want you to know that we’ll both understand if you don’t want to do it.”
“We would never ask you to compromise your integrity,” Kelly added.
“If only your competition had some,” Ross muttered darkly.
“You must be talking about yesterday’s Alton Kessler piece,” Lori surmised.
She’d read the story and knew for a fact that it wasn’t just unfair, it was at least partly false, and it attacked Kelly personally. Unfortunately it was just the latest in a steady stream of criticism and implied wrongdoing at the agency. No wonder the Van Zandts were upset. She would have been, too.
“We have to get at the root of these leaks and lies,” Kelly whispered.
“Do you think you could ask around, find out who Kessler’s source is?” Ross asked, coming to the point.
Lori parked her hands at her hips, striking a determined pose. “You leave it to me. I’ll go to Alton himself. I can’t promise that he’ll cooperate, but I do have a little leverage.”
Ross smiled wolfishly. “I knew we could count on you. I’m so pleased I won’t even ask what you’ve got