thing.
Maggie spent nearly an hour interviewing Michael the
next morning, the whole time wondering what possible
angle she might take with this story. He made it perfectly
clear that his main purpose in coming to Pine Mountain was
to be a missionary, or in his own words, "to preach the good
news to the lost souls that my good friend Steven cared so
deeply for..." How could she write that in the newspaper?
She could just imagine certain individuals taking strong
offense to being Michael Abundi's "mission field," and yet
she didn't want to compromise his message either. Finally
Scott stopped by to take Michael outside on the porch to
*shoot some photos, and after that he gave him a tour of the
newspaper office. Maggie sat at her desk, going over her
notes. Perhaps she'd play up the Steven Harris connection,
maybe even contact his parents for a quote-she knew she
could get the number from her mom-then she'd show how
this unusual friendship had motivated Michael to come over
here. She'd already completed her opening paragraph by the
time he stopped in to say goodbye.
Looking for You All My Life91
"Thanks for coming, Michael." She smiled up at him. "I
think I'll try to reach Steven Harris' parents for some com-
ments on this story."
"Steven's parents?" His dark eyes grew wide. "I have
never met them. Do they live here in Pine Mountain?"
She shook her head. "No, but I think I might be able to
reach them."
He frowned slightly. "They did not approve when Steven
chose to leave his home to become a missionary. He wrote
them often, but they never wrote to him. Not until he
became ill ..."
"Oh my. How sad."
"But I would like to speak to them-if you think they
would be willing to speak to me-or maybe they will not
want to...
"If I reach them, I'll remember to ask," offered Maggie,
suddenly unsure as to whether she wanted to include their
quote in her article or not.
"All right. I must go now. Thank you."
"Stay warm!" she called as he left her office.
She returned to her writing until she heard Abigail on the
intercom. Her voice sounded stiff and formal as she spoke.
"Ms. Carpenter, a Mr. Ebbert is in the lobby wishing to see
you. I told him you were busy right now. But he demands-"
"That's right!" came a loud male voice, also over the
intercom. "I demand to know why you people aren't
printing my letters to the editor in your newspaper!"
Maggie thought for a moment. She hated leaving poor
Abigail on her own to deal with this troublemaker, but she