Love's Story by Kristin; Dianne; Billerbeck Christner

with the light. The first thing she saw when the room was lit was the yellow hat with a green ostrich feather. Meredith moaned.
Oh, I should have returned you.

    Thatcher continued to chuckle long after the door slammed in his face. He shouldn’t have teased her, but he liked her spunk. It seemed natural to admit to her what he had just discovered for himself: He wanted to marry Meredith, even if it meant his own undoing.

Chapter 14
    M eredith’s fingers pounded out fragmented thoughts and facts until she came to a point where she left her desk to search through her bags. She needed the article that had first pricked her attention on the conservation problem, John Muir’s “The American Forests.” His bold words would make a good quote:
    â€œAny fool can destroy trees. They cannot run away; and if they could, they would still be destroyed—chased and hunted down as long as fun or a dollar could be got out of their bark hides, branching horns, or magnificent bole backbones.”
    Meredith tapped her cheek with her finger.
A bit too strong?
How would the townspeople react? She wanted to get their attention, and this would. She would leave it.

    The residents of Buckman’s Pride received Meredith’s newspaper article much like a hard blow to the stomach. Stunned people turned angry, even ugly. The uproar spread throughout the town until it reached Meredith early the following morning in the form of handwritten notes, delivered by a tight-faced Amelia.
    Warily reluctant, Meredith read:
“Something is rotten in the woodlands. You!”
    Another read:
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll write a retraction.”
    Finally:
“Come to the newsroom so we can talk about this mess. Charlie.”
    Meredith’s face felt hot. Amelia’s features resembled the sharp eyes of a vulture.
    â€œI can just imagine what those say.”
    The reporter crumpled the papers. “I take it you don’t approve of the article either?”
    â€œIt was a bit insensitive to imply that our sawmill is wasteful.”
    â€œI only said many around the country were.”
    â€œHumph! Same thing.”
    â€œI got their attention, didn’t I?”
    â€œYou can’t rip folks’ hearts open and expect them to listen to you.”
    â€œThey’ll listen, and if they don’t, someone else will.”
    â€œYou’re making it hard for yourself in this town.”
    There was a long silence, and finally Meredith said. “You’ll still be my friend, won’t you, Amelia?”
    Meredith heard a soft sigh just before Amelia said, “I’m your friend. Just take my advice as a mother’s.”
    â€œI never had a mother,” Meredith said.
    Amelia’s arms opened in invitation. “Come here, dear.”

    â€œSit down, Miss Mears.” The newspaper owner’s face twitched. “We’ve a problem with your last article. It’s too direct.”
    â€œCaused a stir?” She gave him a ghost of a smile.
    â€œI think every citizen of Buckman’s Pride’s marched through this door in the last twenty-four hours.”
    â€œThat’s great! We’ve got their attention. Now we can…”
    â€œWrite a retraction.”
    â€œWhat!” Meredith sprang to her feet like a lioness protecting her cub. “Never! It’s a valid issue, and Buckman’s Pride’s got to wake up to the facts.”
    His eyes snapped. “I realize that.”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œI let you publish the article, didn’t I? Now we need to back off a bit. Let things settle. Feed them some more of the fluff you wrote before.”
    â€œNews isn’t always pleasant to the ear.”
    His smile faded. “The logging industry is what this town survives on. You’ve attacked their jugular vein.”
    Meredith reseated herself. She clenched and unclenched her hands. “I don’t know if I can do a