Page 17 of Rumors in Bayberry (The Bayberry, Vermont #3)

Chapter Twelve

W hy had she agreed?

Sadie was mentally kicking herself for inviting him along on her interview. She had been planning to enjoy it. And now Reed’s presence would put a damper on it. After all, he was trying to buy her family’s paper.

But keeping the paper meant giving up her career as a foreign correspondent and settling down in Bayberry permanently. Was that something she wanted?

Her teenage-self would have said no way .

She couldn’t wait to make tracks out of town as soon as she graduated high school.

She’d earned a scholarship to Northwestern University in Illinois and even though she had to work for her board, she was willing to do it.

She hadn’t been willing to pass up a chance to go to the prestigious school for a journalism degree.

But her adult-self had to ask herself if she was still willing to put herself in harm’s way to give a voice to those who were muted by war—by a dictator—by horrific circumstances. She’d always believed her main job was to give wings to the truth. Had that changed?

The fact that she was asking herself these questions bothered her. Until this point in her life, she’d prided herself on knowing what she wanted and going after it. Since her father’s heart attack, she was questioning everything.

The one thing she knew was that her father could no longer run the paper. As much as she wished it was otherwise, the paper was going to change. Hence the question about whether she should take it over or bite back her objections to it being sold to Reed.

Maybe it would help if she knew more about the Rumor Quill . She’d seen it advertised online, but honestly, she had been too busy to investigate it. Now she was wishing she’d taken time to look into it.

As she drove toward the Anderson farm, she said, “So, tell me about the Rumor Quill .”

“What would you like to know?”

Immediately, a string of questions popped into her mind. Where did she start? “Where is the Rumor Quill located?”

“The home office is in Chicago, but we own numerous newspaper offices. Most of them are in the mid-west, but I’m planning to stretch the business from coast to coast.”

“And these newspapers, are they all small town papers?”

“Yes, they are.”

She asked questions about the relationship between the small papers and the Rumor Quill .

She was surprised by what she’d learned.

The purchased newspapers still existed in their own right, but a few of their regular articles were replaced with pieces from the Rumor Quill .

In turn, the home office would curate the cream of the crop articles from all of the small papers, and then they would use those articles to create a national paper that also included advertising for national companies.

It sounded a bit complicated to her. She wondered how they selected the articles that would make their way into the national paper. But she didn’t have a chance to ask more questions, because they’d arrived at their destination.

She bypassed the farm house and instead parked by the big old white barn with a red roof. The part that was unique about the barn was that an artist had painted a ginormous American flag on one end of the barn along with a bunch of sunflowers. It was quite spectacular.

“Wow,” Reed said. “That’s beautiful. You should include a photo of it in your article.”

She arched a brow. “Are you telling me what to publish?”

He dragged his attention from the barn to her. “What? No. Of course not. It was just a casual observation.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” She opened the car door and got out into the fresh autumn air.

He was right. A photo of the barn should be published but not with the pig and duck article. It wasn’t the only barn in the region that was painted. She could do a series on the painted barns with each of their stories. Well, she could if she stayed in Bayberry…

As they walked, the sunshine disappeared behind a cloud.

She looked up and noticed a number of gray clouds gathering in the sky.

The forecast said there would be some rain that week and the potential for some thunderstorms. She just hoped the storms held off until much later in the evening so they didn’t disrupt the Pumpkin Festival.

Reed stepped up next to her. “What are you thinking?”

“That it’s going to rain.”

He craned his chin upward. “You think so. Maybe it’s just a few dark clouds rolling through.”

“I hope you’re right, but the forecast said to expect the occasional shower. So, we better get a move on.”

As they made their way toward the barn, Reed stopped. He stared down at the mud. “I don’t think I wore the right shoes for this visit.”

She glanced down at his shoes, which already had a bit of mud splattered on them. She smiled. “Even if you knew where we were going, do you have any shoes that would be appropriate for stomping around in a barn?”

His brows rose. “Come to think of it, no. Absolutely not. I can’t even tell you the last time I was in a barn.” His gaze lowered to her pink work boots. “Those don’t exactly look like they belong in a barn either.”

“Oh, they might be cute, but they are also practical. They are waterproof and easy to clean.”

His gaze rose to meet hers. A frown pulled at his mouth. “And you couldn’t have warned me that we were going to be visiting a barn?”

“I thought that was obvious when I mentioned a story about a pig and a duckling, but then again, you are from Chicago.” She continued walking.

Most of the barn was empty, but she did notice there were a couple of momma cows and their babies in their stalls. They were faced away from her, so she kept going.

“Hey, Ms. Cow,” Reed said, making Sadie smile.

When she no longer heard him behind her, she had a thought. “Hey, don’t—”

A groan that was more like a growl sounded behind her. She swung around to see Reed jumping back. The cow next to him had its tail raised as it took a dump.

Reed was frowning as he stared down at his shoes. “Hey, that cow just took a dump on my shoes.”

She struggled not to laugh. “I was going to tell you not to approach a cow from behind and certainly not when their tail goes up.”

He scowled at her. “A little late with that warning, don’t you think?”

She couldn’t hold in her amusement any longer. The more she laughed, the more his scowl deepened. She pressed a hand to her mouth, but she couldn’t stop the rush of giddiness.

“Would you stop?” His voice held a grumpy tone. “My shoes are ruined.”

She calmed herself long enough to say, “And they stink.”

“You are not funny. Not funny at all.”

“Sadie, is that you?”

She turned to find Chester Anderson approaching her. He wore a green ball cap, his usual faded jean overalls that had smudges of dirt, an old white T-shirt, and black rubber boots.

“Hey, Sadie. It’s good to see you.”

She thought about holding out her hand to shake his but decided to just skip over that part.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.

” But was Reed technically a friend or was he a foe?

It was a question for another time. She introduced the two men.

“Reed read the original article I wrote about Hampton and Quackers. He begged to come meet them in person.”

“Oh. I don’t mind.” Chester’s gaze moved past her to where Reed was bent over, trying to clean off his shoes with some straw. She wondered how that was working for him. Chester nodded toward Reed. “Is everything okay with him?”

Reed straightened. “I got too close to the cow.”

Chester smiled, but unlike her, he didn’t break into laughter. She had a feeling Reed wasn’t the first visitor to get too close to the backend of a cow. “Are you ready to go see Hampton and Quackers?”

She noticed that Chester wasn’t talking to her. Perhaps he was trying to distract Reed from his ruined shoes. So, she stood by quietly.

“I would like that.” Reed stepped past her and then shook hands with Chester.

The next thing she knew, the guys were walking away. She was left to either hang out with the cows or trail behind them. How did this happen?

She swallowed down a groan and rushed after them. Chester was telling Reed about the farm. He was supposed to be telling her all of this information so she could pick out the interesting details to share with the readers.

She wasn’t going to be shoved out of this conversation. “Chester, the last time I was here, you were expecting to double your herd.”

“Uh, yes. We’re expecting to double it within the next few years. We’re taking our time with the expansion.”

Reed asked some questions about the size of the herd and about the mean-old bull that was in the pasture. She was impressed with the way Reed easily made friends. With his easy-to-get-along-with personality, he could have been a reporter.

She remembered it was his personality that had her falling for him so quickly. But that wouldn’t happen again. She was on to him now. She wouldn’t let herself get swayed by his flirty words or his charming smiles.

After this visit to the farm, she didn’t know if she would see him much longer. She was waiting for a call back from her editor just as soon as they had an assignment for her. Maybe that would be her answer—if she got the call, she would stay on her current career path.

Chester led them to a penned-in area containing Hampton the pig and a now-grown duck, Quackers. “They are the best of friends. We tried to separate them once, but Hampton wouldn’t eat. Quackers went nuts, squawking up a storm until we returned her back to the pen.”

Sadie had pulled out a small notebook that she always kept in her purse and a pen. She jotted down everything about the pig and duck. She was definitely writing this story before she left…whenever that would be.

“Aw… They’re so cute.” Sadie pulled out her phone and started snapping pictures. Her readers were going to go nuts over this story.