idea, narrowed her eyes and gazed around. Written words carried power. Much more than any argument she could present for the article would convey. She lowered her gaze to the blank piece of paper resting on the box and began to write the introduction she would use to convince Dr. Austin to agree.
The view from Dr. Austin’s office at the Assembly Herald building is, at once, spectacular and calming. Maple, elm and oak trees paint dappled shadows on the paths and grass, and between their bark-roughened trunks one can see the water of Chautauqua Lake rippling in the sunshine. A warm breeze rustles through the tree branches and the leaf shadows dance...
* * *
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Austin.” Charles rose and extended his hand to the courtly older gentleman. “I am an admirer of your writings.”
“You’re too kind, Mr. Thornberg. And I’m quite certain you have not come to Chautauqua merely to compliment me. So why am I here? What is this meeting about?” Dr. Austin pinned him with a sharp look.
He smiled, stood by his chair and waited for the older man to take his seat. “I have submitted a business proposal to your partner, Dr. Austin. And Mr. Fuller graciously consented to summon you so that we might discuss it.”
“Mr. Thornberg has recently purchased the Jamestown Journal, John. He has come here with a business plan that he believes will be advantageous to us both. I think he is right.” William Fuller rose from the chair behind the cluttered desk and came to stand beside him. “So I will simply say, from a monetary perspective, that what he offers is, indeed, advantageous for us. And from that angle, I would recommend we accept the deal he brings. However, I know there are things about the Assembly Herald newsletter more important to you than profit. Therefore, I will leave you two to discuss those matters. A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Thornberg. I wish you well in your new endeavor.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fuller.” Charles shook the man’s large work-scarred hand. “The pleasure was all mine, sir.”
“I’ll talk with you later to hear your decision, John.” William Fuller put on his top hat, tapped it into place and left the room.
“Well, it appears you have jumped one hurdle to your proposition, Mr. Thornberg. Let’s see if you can clear the next.” Dr. Austin stepped behind the desk, sat back in the chair William Fuller had vacated and folded his hands across his chest. “Have a seat and begin. And you can leave out the monetary details. That’s William’s decision. Mine is the content of the newsletter. What have you to say about that?”
“My proposition as to content is this, Dr. Austin.” He sat in the chair facing the desk and leaned forward. “I will accept and edit any articles or columns you wish included in the Assembly Herald. I will lay out the newsletter with the regular columns on their designated pages, provide all ‘filler’ material, write an editorial if you wish and handle any correspondence that is not meant for a specifically named contributor. I will pass forward all such letters.” He sat back, encouraged by the slow nodding of Dr. Austin’s head. “All this plus the printing of the newsletter will be done at a cost less than you now expend. But the true value to you, sir, will be the time you will save for your other duties and callings.”
Dr. Austin’s gaze fastened on his. “You are a shrewd negotiator, Mr. Thornberg. You have pointed out all of the benefits to us here at the assembly. However, you have neglected to tell me what advantage this deal holds for you.”
“A monetary one, sir. The Jamestown Journal is failing. The income earned from editing and printing your monthly newsletter will help to keep my newspaper afloat while I work to implement the changes I have planned and turn it into a profitable concern.”
“I see. I like your honesty, Mr. Thornberg.” Dr. Austin leaned forward, a smile peeking out from his beard. “If I understand you correctly, all of my present editorial duties will fall to you...including handling the correspondence.”
“That is correct, sir.”
“And I still have the final say over the content of our newsletter—the columns, articles and such?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then we have a deal, Mr. Thornberg. Unless you choose to back away.”
He puzzled over the odd statement, could find no reason for it. “And why would I do that, sir? I’m the one who came to you with the offer.”
“Look at the top of my desk, Mr. Thornberg, and tell me what you see.”
He eyed the piles of letters spilling into one another, then glanced at the sudden twinkle in the Chautauqua leader’s eyes. “I suppose it’s too much to hope you are a very poor correspondent, sir?”
The older man let out a hoot. “You suppose right, Mr. Thornberg. These are this month’s letters from the far-spread members of our nationwide Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle. And all of the questions they contain have to be answered in the monthly column in the newsletter. A few of the letters will be directed to specific teachers and those must be answered individually. So have we a deal, Mr. Thornberg?”
“We have, Dr. Austin.” Though I wish I had known about those letters and the time they will swallow preparing your monthly newsletter before I made my offer. He rose, met the Chautauqua leader’s hand over top of the letters littering the desk and shook it.
“There’s one other thing, Mr. Thornberg—as long as you are here, I shall introduce you to the author of a new column I intend to include in the monthly newsletter.”
“I shall be most pleased to meet him, Dr. Austin.”
“Her, Mr. Thornberg.”
Her? He jerked his gaze from the piles of letters and stared at Dr. Austin as he came around the desk, scowled after him as he walked toward the door. A woman?
“Would you please come in, Miss Gordon? I’ve someone here you need to meet.”
He wiped the frown from his face and took a step toward the door.
“Of course, Dr. Austin.”
A slender woman garbed in a plain brown dress and carrying a thin wood box appeared in the sunlit doorway. The wren! He jerked to a halt. She was the columnist? He wiped the astonishment from his face as she stepped into the room and glanced his way.
Dr. Austin closed the door and turned to face them. “Mr. Thornberg, may I present Miss Gordon. Miss Gordon, Mr. Thornberg.”
“Miss Gordon.” He dipped his head in polite acknowledgment.
“Mr. Thornberg.”
You. She didn’t speak the word, but it was clear from the cool look she gave him that she recognized him as the man she’d caught staring at her on the steamer. He clamped his jaw to keep from launching into an explanation.
“Well, this is a fortuitous meeting for all of us. Please be seated, Miss Gordon.”
He moved to hold a chair for her as Dr. Austin strode behind his desk. She gave him a curt nod to acknowledge the politeness and sat, holding the box on her lap. He moved to sit in the other chair, eyed the polished wood and wondered at the contents.
“This morning has been
