Starry Night

Nash’s lack of faith in her abilities.
    The holidays were the worst, and while it was only early November, the frenzy had already started. The list of parties Nash assigned her to attend was already mammoth. Halloween decorations were still arranged around her desk, and already there was a Christmas tree in the display window of the department store across the street.
    Determined to stick with her plan, Carrie went directly into Nash Jorgen’s office.
    A veteran newsman, Nash glanced up from his computer screen and glared in her direction. He seemed to sense this wasn’t a social visit. His shoulders rose with a weary sigh. “What now?” he growled.
    “I’m handing in my two-week notice.” If she’d been looking for a response, she would have been disappointed.
    He blinked a couple of times, ran his hand down the side of his day-old beard, and asked, “Any particular reason?”
    “I hoped to prove I can be a darn good reporter, but I’ll never get the chance writing anything more than copy for society weddings. You said when you hired me that you’d give me a shot at reporting real news.”
    “I don’t remember what I said. What’s wrong with what you’re writing now? You’re good.”
    “It isn’t what I want to write.”
    “So? You make the best of it, pay your dues, and in time you’ll get the break you’re looking for.”
    Carrie was tired of waiting. She straightened her shoulders, her resolve tightening. “I know I’m fortunate to work for the Herald . It was a real coup to get this position, but this isn’t the career I wanted. You give me no choice.” She set her letter of resignation on his desk.
    That got Nash’s attention. He swiveled his chair around to look at her once more. His frown darkened, and he ran his hand through his thinning hair. “You really are serious, aren’t you?”
    A chill went down her spine. Nash was actually listening. “Yes, I’m serious.”
    “Fine, then.” He reached across his desk and picked up a hardcover book and handed it to her. “Find Finn Dalton, get an interview, and write me a story I can print.”
    She grabbed hold of the book, not recognizing the author’s name. “And if I do?”
    “Well, first, there’s a snowball’s chance of you even locating him. Every reporter in the universe is dying to interview him. But if you get lucky and he’s willing to talk and we print the piece, then I’ll take you off the society page.”
    Carrie wavered. He seemed to be offering her a chance, as impossible as it might seem. Now it was up to her to prove herself. She dared not show him how excited she was. “I’ll find him.”
    He snickered as though he found her confidence amusing, and then sobered. He regarded her with the same dark frown he had earlier before a slow, easy smile slid over his harsh features. “I bet you will. Now, listen up—if you get an interview with Finn Dalton, you can have any assignment you want.”
    Taking small steps, Carrie backed out of the office. She pointed at Nash. “I’m holding you to your word.”
    The managing editor was already back to reading his computer screen and didn’t appear to have heard her. It didn’t matter; she’d heard him, and he’d come across loud and clear.
    Once she was out of his office, she examined the book to see the author photo, but couldn’t find one, not even on the inside back flap.
    Walking back to her cubicle, she paused at Sophie’s instead. “You ever heard of Finn Dalton?”
    Sophie’s eyebrows lifted on her round face. “You mean you haven’t?”
    “No.” The book title wasn’t much help. Alone . That told her next to nothing. The jacket revealed a snow-covered landscape with a scattering of stubby trees.
    Sophie shook her head. “Have you been living under a rock?”
    “No. Who is this guy?”
    “He’s a survivalist who lives alone someplace in the Alaskan wilderness.”
    “Oh.” That was a bit daunting, but Carrie considered herself up to the challenge. She’d been born and raised in Washington State. She’d hoped to join her family for Thanksgiving, but if she needed to use her vacation time to find Finn Dalton, then she was willing to.
    “His book has been on the bestseller lists for nearly seven months, mostly at the number-one position.”
    Carrie was impressed. “What does he write about?”
    “He’s the kind of guy you can set loose in the wild with a pack of chewing gum, a pocketknife, and a handkerchief, and by the time you find him