Love's Story by Kristin; Dianne; Billerbeck Christner Page A

retraction. I’m not saying I won’t. I will if it’s necessary. It’s just that I have another angle in mind. I need some time. Can the retraction at least wait until the regular weekly column?”
    She presented an interesting prospect.
    â€œYours can. I’ll do one from the newspaper today.”
    â€œFair enough.” The newspaper office’s door jingled beneath her departing touch. She paused and turned back to ask, “Did you get any personal threats?”
    His voice held a hint of humor. “I guess you could call them that.”
    â€œMe, too.”
    Her hand rested on the doorknob. There seemed to be something more on his mind. “As an outsider, you can write things I can’t. But you might get run out of town.”
    â€œThat’s part of being a good journalist, knowing when to pack up and run.”

    Meredith pursued her other angles at once. She eased down onto the stiff chair Clement Washington offered her. Meredith remembered that this man did not relish wasted time. As soon as her portfolio hit the floor, rousing a puff of dust, she began to recite her memorized spiel.
    â€œI came to apologize for my recent newspaper article. My accusations referred to sawmills across the country, but in your defense, the town has taken them quite personally.”
    A righteous anger bloated Washington’s cheeks. “Given your occupation, you are neither naïve nor stupid. Your article’s intent was quite clear.”
    â€œBut, it was not personal.”
    â€œThen why are you here?”
    Meredith held back her own rising emotions and spoke in a calm tone. “Wasting timber is a serious issue.”
    â€œI agree.”
    â€œThen you apply methods of conservation?”
    â€œLet’s take a walk.” He didn’t expect an answer. His chair scraped against the floor, and a few papers fluttered up to resettle on his quivering desk.
    Meredith grabbed her portfolio and scrambled after him, his words hurling back at her. “Wood is a much-needed resource. Where do you think your paper comes from?”
    She panted, working up a sweat to keep up with the man’s cantankerous strides. “I agree. Timber should be used. Foresters only offer suggestions to keep these resources from running out one day.”
    Washington stopped so abruptly that Meredith had to retrace her steps. Her chest heaved as she looked where he pointed. He shouted above the buzzing saws, his finger still thrust forward.
    â€œSee what he’s doing?”
    Meredith gave a half shrug.
    â€œHe’s sweeping. I keep a clean mill. It cuts down on the chance of fire.”
    It was one of the methods of conservation she had read about. “That’s a fine thing,” she shouted back.
    They watched the mill workers as Washington pointed out to Meredith the many ways that the mill already minimized waste. They utilized the entire tree as it passed through, from logs to shingles. When she had seen enough, they left.
    â€œMr. Washington, I’m favorably impressed, and I do apologize for the trouble I’ve caused you.”
    â€œI accept your apology.”
    â€œEven so, I’ll feel negligent if I don’t share something else with you.”
    â€œBy all means,” he gestured with outstretched palms, “don’t hold back now.”
    She smiled. “President McKinley has appointed Gifford Pinchot as chief of the Division of Forestry. Heard of Pinchot?”
    â€œI’ve heard of him. Why?”
    â€œHis division offers free advice to mill owners. Would you be willing to take a look at such materials?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
    â€œThen I thank you for your time. I’ll get you the information and put some good words about your mill in my next article.”
    â€œI’d appreciate that. In your magazine article, too?”
    â€œYou’re neither naïve nor stupid,” she said with a