Gathering String by Mimi Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

would be President’s next choice for the Supreme Court.
    That’s when he started to follow how things went for Tess. If there was a rumor of a hot assignment on the horizon, he’d often give her a heads-up and encourage her to make a bid. He’d frequently suggest her to an editor in planning meetings. And as the months went by, he developed a habit of looking in at photography. If she was there, they’d chat, and if a little flirting went on, well, it seemed harmless.
    It wasn’t until one night over a beer with Higgins that Sam realized others had noticed. They’d just finished ripping apart Steve Johnson’s latest divorce and his penchant for tying up with online editors, when Rick abruptly said, “So, you and Benedict seem to hit it off. What’s the deal there?”
    Sam was genuinely surprised. “No deal,” he shrugged. “She’s good at her job. I like working with her.”
    “Yeah,” Higgins frowned at him, and Sam realized his friend disapproved. “And?”
    “And she’s a kid.” Sam’s sharp face pulled down into forbidding lines. “She’s new and she’s hungry. Why shouldn’t I steer a few assignments her way? Christ, Higs, you’ve got a dirty mind.”
    “Maybe.” Higs raised his beer to lips. “But I’ve never noticed you waving the flag for any of the young guys in photography. You telling me your philanthropy doesn’t have a thing to do with her being so goddamned cute?”
    “Well, I’m not blind,” One side of Sam’s mouth went up. “But …”
    “But nothing. She’s a comer, Sam, and works really hard. Don’t go all horny and fuck it up for her.”
    “Come on, Rick, I’m a married man, just like you.” Higs gave a droll twist of his mouth at that. Sam’s intermittent fidelity had been newsroom property for years. Sam rolled his eyes and lowered his voice. “Well, I steer clear of newsroom women. You know that. With the bean-counters sharpening their axes, do you think I’d risk my job on a shiny bit of tail? Besides, she’s not even glancing in my direction. All the young bucks are getting in line.”
    That was true. She dated a lot of different guys. Sometimes, writing late for the metro edition, he’d catch sight of her going out. Meeting some date who was waiting impatiently in the lobby, she’d dash past, having changed in the restroom into some tempting little dress, all long legs and curves. Eyes following her, Sam told himself to be grateful to any guy who could get her to wear something like that. As for taking her out of it ... Sam shook his head and looked back to the words on the monitor.
    Flooding in the Midwest that spring was devastating. Following an exceptionally snowy winter, the ice jams of spring swelled under drenching, unrelenting rain. From the upper reaches of North Dakota and Minnesota down through Iowa and Nebraska, the whole Missouri River watershed was carrying off livestock and precious topsoil while threatening to overwhelm states to the south. A huge swath of the nation struggled to hang on as the water rose.
    Sam was tapped as senior reporter to go into the hardest-hit areas. He knew she wanted the trip, and he made sure she got it. “Benedict!” he’d snapped at Baxter, the photo chief, jabbing his finger to emphasize the name. “She’s good, she’s got a fresh eye.” If it seemed extraordinary that someone as new and young as Tess got the trip, Sam ignored the speculative glances.
    They landed in Omaha at a heavily sandbagged Eppley Airfield on the overwhelmed banks of the Missouri. He planned to focus on the devastation in western Iowa, where swollen rivers had cut off interstate highways in all directions, tying up the nation’s trucking. But then Steve Johnson, the National Editor, called about an explosion in Remington, South Dakota, north of Rapid City. Cheyenne River flooding had isolated the town, and they’d evacuated people in boats. But the pressure on the gas mains was too much. One home had blown off the map, and now