Authors: Judy Christie
Want to learn more about author Judy Christie and
check out other great fiction from Abingdon Press?
Sign up for our fiction newletter at
www.abingdonpress.com to read interviews with
your favorite authors, find tips for starting a reading
group, and stay posted on what new titles are
on the horizon. Connect with other fiction readers
or post a comment about this book.
Discussion Questions
Bonus chapter from book two in the Green Series
Don’t be fooled by the sweater vests.
That was my first thought when I looked through the window and saw the Big Boys standing on my porch on New Year's Day. They looked like high school social studies teachers except for the grimaces—and the briefcase.
Of course, in my sweat pants and Mammoth Cave t-shirt, I looked like a high school gym teacher myself. Maybe I should have chosen the shower over the second cup of coffee.
I opened the door, hating to start my second year in Green with these two.
“Good morning, Chuck, Dub,” I said. “What brings you out to Route 2 so early?” I shivered as a chilly wind blew and stepped aside for them to enter. “You might as well come on in.”
The two men exchanged a brief look and glanced around at the old cottage I happily call home. “Haven’t been in here in a while,” Dub said. “Aunt Helen loved this place. Lots of memories.”
Chuck threw his brother an impatient stare and interrupted in a harsh tone. “We’ve heard some disturbing things around town, Miss Barker. We need to talk to you.”
“Business matters, newspaper business, family stuff,” Dub said, looking just the tiniest bit apologetic. “We want to straighten this out before it goes any further.”
I motioned to the couch, hoping they would take a seat and give me a moment to collect my thoughts. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“This isn’t a social call. We need to talk to you right away,” Chuck said.
“So you mentioned,” I murmured, wondering what could possibly have pulled these two men away from home on a holiday devoted to televised football, one of their favorite activities in the world. “I guess you’re not here to tell me Happy New Year.”
Chuck, the bossy brother, started to stand up, reconsidered, and sat back down. “We’re here to buy back
The News-Item,”
he said. “We want it back. We’re prepared to make you a good offer.”
“A real good offer,” Dub said.
“The paperwork's all drawn up, and we’ll give you a check today.” Chuck clicked open the leather satchel and pulled out files. His brother fished in his pocket and produced an expensive ink pen.
“But … but … ” I actually sputtered.
“The Item
isn’t for sale. I own T
he Item.
The staff and I own it.”
“Of course it's for sale,” Chuck said. “Everything's for sale. We heard about that ridiculous little profit-sharing ploy of yours. Won’t work.” He held out a check and waved it in my face. “This is a generous offer. Take it. Take it.”
I stepped back, thinking of the water moccasins that lived in the pond across the road. Chuck looked ready to strike at any moment. Country living had its drawbacks, and neighbors who lived closer might be nice right about now.
“I’m not sure what this is all about, but let me emphasize that
The Green News-Item
is not for sale. I have established a partnership with the employees, and we have big plans. If you want to talk business, set up a meeting at my office. End of story.”
I had struggled for my paper and its staff and my wonderful new life. Green meant too much to me to even listen to these men today.
I stood up and walked to the door, as dignified as I could, with my heart about to pound out of my chest and my fleece pants sagging. My hand trembled as I reached for the handle.
Before Chuck and Dub could stand, a light tap sounded, and the door swung open. In walked Mayor Eva Hillburn, carrying her Yorkie terrier Sugar Marie. I jumped back, startled. Then I smiled, incredibly relieved.
“Happy New Year, Lois. Didn’t mean to scare you.” She was clearly amazed to see the McCuller men sitting in my living room and nodded at them. “Chuck. Dub. Have I come at a bad time?”
I reached around the dog to give her a half hug. “Happy New Year, Mayor. This is a great time.” When I spoke, the little dog jumped at me and bit me on the face. As though for good measure, she nipped my hand.
The living room, already tense, became frenzied. Dub leapt up. Eva jumped back. I reached my hand to my cheek and felt blood.
Maybe year two in Green was not going to be so great after all.
“Sugar Marie, bad dog, bad dog,” Eva said.
“Oh my word,” Dub said, handing me the white handkerchief he always carried. “Use this. Apply pressure.”
“Good grief,” Chuck said, closing the briefcase and rising. “It's only a scratch. That obnoxious little fur ball couldn’t hurt a fly. She's not a Rottweiler or something. Come on.” He turned to look at me as he and his brother stepped onto the porch. “This conversation is not over. We’ll be in touch.”
Chuck nodded at Eva with a frown, and I could have sworn Dub winked at her. Stunned, I didn’t say a word. I started to offer Dub his handkerchief, but it had blood on it, so I held it back to my face, my mouth ajar, as though I had a bad cold and couldn’t breathe through my nose.
In silence we watched them slam the SUV doors, spin gravel on the driveway, and head toward Green.
The mayor, a normally calm woman with a personality as controlled as her hairdo, shook her head, as though to clear her thoughts. “I came by to tell you I’m glad you’re staying in Green, to see how I might help you in the year ahead,” she said. “Not a moment too soon, it seems.”
“I have no idea what that was about,” I said and dabbed at my eye, noting more blood.
Eva began to fuss at Sugar Marie and apologized profusely. “We have to get you to the doctor … Sugar Marie, bad girl. Whatever came over you? I apologize. Hardly the way to let you know how thrilled I am that you’re staying.”
“Goodness gracious!” Eva was babbling at this point. “Did she get your eye? Here, let me take a look.”
Sugar Marie, now out of Eva's arms, sniffed around the room. I wondered if she would insult me further by peeing on the floor. I headed into the bedroom to assess the damage, and the dog growled at me—growled at me—in my own home … after biting me. On the second anniversary of my arrival in Green.
But Sugar Marie had broken up a very unexpected meeting with the Big Boys. Maybe that was worth a small facial scar. Probably even a doggie treat.
“I insist on taking you to see Dr. Kevin,” the brand-new, take-charge mayor said. “This needs medical attention. I can’t have my local newspaper owner suing me. I hear she intends to stay in town for years.”
“Sue you? You saved me from the Big Boys. I’d hug you again if it weren’t for Sugar Marie. Plus, it's kind of nice to have something to hold over that perfect head of yours.”
In the end, Eva and I arranged to meet my doctor friend at her office for an exam.
“Sugar's never bitten anyone before,” Eva kept saying on the drive to the clinic. I tried to keep a little distance between myself and the dog, who whimpered as though I had wronged her.
Kevin, one of my best friends and my physician, declared the wound in need of a few small stitches because of its location near my eye. “Just to be on the safe side,” she said, pulling out a little package of supplies. While giving me a painful shot, she asked about Sugar Marie's vaccinations and talked about the possibility of infection.
This year was getting better and better.
I had awakened with such happiness at what was ahead. Now I could scarcely worry about my wound for thinking about the scary visit by the McCullers, the files they had, the check. They wanted to buy
The Item
? But they had sold the newspaper. They were happy to unload it.
“Eva …” I tried to turn to her.
“Sit still,” Kevin said. “It's really not that smart to move when I’m working near your eye with a needle.”
“Eva,” I said again, staring straight ahead. “What were the McCullers up to?”
“No good, no doubt,” Kevin said, right as she tied up her needlework, pulling a little tight out of anger I suspected. Her opinion of most of the power brokers in town was pretty low.
“They want to buy me out.” I was completely perplexed—and a little fearful. “Things have fallen into place for me here. Chuck and Dub aren’t in the picture any more.”
“Maybe they’ve decided after a year out of the news business they want back in,” Eva said. “Maybe they hope to run you out of town. Or they’re trying to cook up a scheme to make lots of money. That's what they do, them and my brother. They look for schemes to make money and don’t care who they mow over.”