Coffee Scoop by Kathleen Y'Barbo Page B

planning a visit to see how the coffee business works. I suppose Ryan told you this already, but just say the word and I’ll have the jet ready.”
    “Yes, well, I appreciate your generous offer, Mr. Renfro,” Carrie said as she followed him down the hall toward the noise, “but I really can’t. It wouldn’t be right under the circumstances.”
    He nodded. “I understand. Can’t be accused of taking favors from someone you’re writing a story about.”
    “I’m glad you understand.”
    “Of course,” he said. “Now how about I get us a couple of pieces of pie to go?”

CHAPTER TEN

    A week later, Carrie climbed out of her mother’s Toyota at the airport. As the recorded message regarding unattended cars fought for attention over the honking of horns and whine of jet engines,  
    “Remember Mille will be around to check on you. You have her cell number, right?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “Okay.” Carrie handed her check-through bag over to the curbside porter then slipped him a tip.  
    “Honey, are you sure this is safe?” Mama grasped Carrie’s elbow then turned the gesture of concern into a hug. “I’m already worried and you haven’t even left yet,” she said into Carrie’s ear. “I feel so helpless, what with you going off into the jungle and all.”
    Carrie held her mother at arm’s length, her gaze traveling from Mama’s perfectly styled blonde hair to her expertly applied makeup, and then to her pink manicured nails. Mama looked anything but helpless. In fact, she looked fabulous.  
    Her mother looked her up and down then stepped back to lean against the car door. She looked ready to speak and yet reluctant to say anything. Carrie recognized the familiar expression. Mama’s worry extended beyond the usual concerns of air safety and lost luggage
    “Mama. What is it?” She paused. “Look, I’m going to be fine, Mama. Really.” She paused. “And besides, I’m not going into the jungle. This is a coffee plantation and I have reservations for a perfectly respectable hotel in a nice village.”
    “Village?” Mama shook her head. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
    “Okay,” she said as she toyed with the zipper on her bag, “maybe I used the wrong word. It’s a town, Mama, a nice little city with all the comforts of home. Feel better?”
    “I suppose.” The smile she offered didn’t quite make it up to her eyes. For all her bravado, Mama still looked worried.
    “Is there something else?”
    “Actually, yes,” she said. “I need to know something.”
    Carrie knelt down to dig her boarding pass out of her carry-on bag. “Sure,” she said as she straightened and lifted the bag onto her shoulder. “Ask me anything.”
    “Are you doing this for me?”
    Looking past Mama to where the security officer stood watching, Carrie feigned innocence. “Doing what?”
    “Carrying on a vendetta against Ryan Baxter because of the mistake I made.”
Carrie whirled her gaze around to collide with Mama’s. “What are you saying, Mama?”
    “I’m saying that I see how you act when you’re sending computer messages back and forth with him. I also see a light in your eyes when you talk about him. That light disappears when you talk about this story you’re doing.” Mama touched her arm. “Carrie, pray about this. Ask God to show you not only what you are supposed to write but why you’re supposed to be writing it. I didn’t do that and look what happened. All your daddy’s money gone just because I didn’t seek the Lord before I acted.”
    Carrie nodded. “All right.”
    Mama tightened her grip. “There’s something else.”
    “What?”
    “Don’t you dare try to destroy a ministry the Lord is behind. I don’t care what that newspaper pays you. Don’t you do it.”
    Carrie glanced down at her watch then stepped back. “I promise, Mama. I’m going to give Ryan a fair shake, and I won’t let what happened to you color my impression of his ministry.”
    “Oh, Carrie,