Undeniably Yours (25 page)

Nancy cracked a joke and everyone laughed. Meg looked at Bo and found him gazing steadily back at her, tenderness in his eyes.

You doing okay?
he asked her with that look.

She gave an infinitesimal nod, and he nodded back.

Electricity snapped between them, and she very much wished
that she could wrap her arms around him and hold on to him with all her might.

Oh dear
, she thought as she looked at him.
I just might have to . . .

Love you.

It might not be negotiable.

The notion caused her ribs to tighten with sudden fear. While Ty told the family a story about a fellow bull rider, Meg set her ice cream bowl on the table and made a production out of folding her napkin alongside it.

Bo and I are just dating
, she assured herself.
No pressure, no promises. I haven't fallen in love with him yet. I haven't risked everything for a man.

———

It brought Bo deep, deep pleasure to see Meg here, in the surroundings he'd grown up in. To watch her with his parents, brothers, sister. She'd been hesitant to come today, but she'd done very well with his family.

While he watched her, she let go fussing with her napkin and turned to answer a question put to her by his father. In that purple dress with circular diamonds in her ears, she looked lovely beyond words.

“You think God views us any differently, Bo?”
Her words had been coming back to him a lot lately.
“He doesn't care one bit about all the outward things. To Him we're equal. We're both loved the same, valued the same. We both need to find our worth in God's view of us.”

He was trying. And doing better at keeping that perspective.

He eased his shoulder blades lower into his chair, stretched out his long legs, and crossed them at the ankles. He could remember that his life had seemed full to him, before her. He'd
had his career, relationships, activities he liked to do on his days off.

It came as a dull surprise to think that his world could have ever seemed complete without Meg in it. It could never be complete without her again. His heart beat because of her. His love for her was so powerful that in some mysterious way it caused him to experience everything more deeply—a deeper bond toward his family, a deeper appreciation of God.

When Bo looked at Meg he saw, felt, and heard God's blessing. Every day, every minute they were together. For the first time, he was beginning to grasp the size of the grace God had extended to him. In turn, Bo found that he wanted nothing for himself so much as he wanted to serve out God's purpose for him.

He believed that a big part of that purpose was to take care of Meg. God had been preparing him all his life for her, he was certain of it. So put a stake in it. Frame it. Draw a line in the sand. He'd lay down his life before he'd lay down the responsibility of protecting her.

Semper Fi.

Again. Meg had left Whispering Creek to spend time with Bo Porter—again. Stephen released a huff of annoyance. This afternoon, she was sitting around an outdoor table with Porter and a group of people who Stephen assumed to be Porter's family.

Clasping his binoculars at his side, Stephen walked back toward his car. His strides slashed with impatience.

He'd grown sick of his crummy hotel room, of this armpit town, of the long, boring length of his days. He wanted to get to Meg and get out. But as long as she spent every moment outside Cole Oil and Whispering Creek with Bo Porter, he couldn't.

He'd researched Porter's background, and he didn't like what he'd found. Six years in the Marines. Tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Porter was a big, strong, dumb country boy with a military background. He probably kept a gun in his truck and a stocked gun closet at home. He probably liked to throw down and fight just for the fun of it.

Stephen didn't want to grow old and gray following Meg around, which meant he needed to orchestrate events to suit his goals.

First he'd separate Meg from Porter. Cleanly and surely.

Then he and Meg would have themselves a little face-to-face.

M
eg stood at the pasture rail next to Sadie Jo, far happier to watch other people riding horses than to ride one herself. Did that make her an impossible wuss? Or merely wise?

It was the first Friday in June, and Meg and Bo would soon be arriving at their two-week anniversary. Because of him, Meg slept, ate, worked, and relaxed in a bliss-filled, walking-on-clouds daze. She'd hardly noticed the long hours of this past workweek come and go.

“You must be hungry.” Sadie Jo pulled a lunch-box-sized bag of Cheetos from her purse and extended it to Meg. “I brought along a snack for you, dear.”

“Thank you, Sadie Jo. That's sweet of you, but I'm fine.”

“You need to eat something. It's almost dinnertime.”

“It's only 4:45.”

“You'll waste away!”

“Not a chance.”

Sadie Jo sighed, and Meg returned the Cheetos to her purse for her. “Don't they look great?” Meg tipped her head toward the riders.

“Just wonderful. Wonderful.”

Brimm, Amber, and Jayden were preparing to leave for a ride along Whispering Creek's trails. Zach, the redheaded teenager who worked for Bo, had been leading them around the pasture, giving out instructions for the past fifteen minutes.

Meg smiled at the sight of Jayden sitting on the saddle in front of Amber. Her tiny houseguest was a born cowboy. He gripped the saddle horn, grinned, and flapped his legs out to the side. When Amber lifted him momentarily to adjust her seat, he let out a screech of displeasure.

“Oh dear,” Sadie Jo said. “Do you think he has a wet diaper?”

“Sadie Jo.”

“Yes?”

“I'm forced to conclude that you have wet diaper OCD.”

Sadie Jo used a hand to shade her eyes as she regarded Meg. “What does that mean?”

“Obsessive compulsive disorder?”

“Hmm?”

“It means that I must have had the driest diapers of any baby in the country.”

“Oh my, yes. That's true enough. We went through diapers like water.”

Meg motioned toward Jayden. “See there, he's content again. Even without a diaper change.”

“I tell you, it does my heart so much good to see him and Amber like this.”

“Mine too.”

“I wish we had a bushel more just like Jayden. I could easily love them all.”

“I know.”

Well?
a voice within her asked.
What's stopping you? Why can't you have more here just like Jayden?
The question struck her like a lightning bolt.

A chill enveloped Meg's body, followed by a cascade of tingling goose bumps. She could see, suddenly, her path forward. Like a curtain swept back to reveal a brightly lit stage, characters, action. She'd prayed for God to show her how she could move forward with the calling He'd placed on her heart, and He'd just in this moment—with Sadie Jo's innocuous words—answered that prayer.

A few months ago inheriting her father's empire had seemed to Meg like a tremendous burden and a challenge that she wasn't, and never would be, equal to. But recently God had been whispering a simple, quiet truth into her heart. He'd reminded her that none of it was actually
hers
. Not the bank accounts, the properties, the staff, the possessions, nor the controlling interest in the company.

All of it belonged to Him. And that new certainty liberated her the way unlocked chains liberated a prisoner.

God had entrusted her with the sacred job of stewardship, yes. But in order to steward what she'd been given, Meg didn't have to make a zillion dollars for Cole Oil, or strive to be worthy of the role of chairman of the board. Her role was far simpler.

All she had to do?

One thing: what God told her to do.

And God had just told her what to do with Whispering Creek Ranch. She and Sadie Jo
could
have more little ones like Jayden here. The big house had ten bedrooms, and Meg could fill every single one of them with parents and children in need
of help.

She didn't personally care for the “I can kill deer!” decorating style of the big house, but that didn't mean other people wouldn't love it. In fact, visitors always ate up the whole lavish lodge thing. The home that her father had built decades ago
provided the perfect—absolutely perfect!—place for families to come and get back on their feet. Whispering Creek was big, safe, empty, staffed with capable people, full of nature, and full of horses.

Horses.

If Amber and Jayden were any indication, her guests might actually come to regard the horses as the most beloved of Whispering Creek's assets.

The horses! The notion struck her as so new and astonishing that Meg could hardly get her mind around it. Her gaze tracked Brimm, Amber, and Jayden as they rode. They were smiling and talking, their hair combed by the breeze, sun shining on their shoulders. Horseback riding was like therapy for them, a chance to set aside their troubles, a treat, an activity that they didn't usually have easy or free access to.

But here, they did. Because she, Meg Cole, owned a dude ranch.

She released a stunned laugh. Dude Ranch Owner. The most unlikely job description she'd ever imagined for herself. Yet God, it seemed, had a way of making the unlikely certain and the surprising possible. She couldn't believe that she hadn't recognized the hand-in-glove fit of it before now. Kids and horses. Horses and Whispering Creek. Whispering Creek and the work she was meant to do. God had been planning exactly this for her all along. She could look back and see it now, everything that He'd put into place and prepared.

She'd been wavering over the decision to keep the horse farm open, but God had just answered that unequivocally for her. Bo's horse farm had a role in the future of her ministry.

She envisioned it all in a tumbling sweep that unfurled into the future. Bo could keep his Thoroughbreds and also expand
the number of horses suitable for kids and beginners. Perhaps she might even be able to convince him to purchase some ponies.

She already had staff in place at the big house and could hire more. More cooks, more housekeepers. She could find a teacher who specialized in early childhood education and set up curriculum for the toddlers and preschoolers. She could bring in more nannies to assist. Older kids could attend the local public schools.

She could help the parents enroll in college courses if they were trying to attain a degree. Or, if they had their degree, she could help them with their job searches. Once they'd achieved the goals they'd set out to accomplish, she could find them safe places to live outside Whispering Creek's walls because her objective would be to bring each parent to a place where they could support their family independently.

So many details to research! She might need to establish a foundation and get civic approval to use the big house in such a way. She'd need to put an application process in place, to form guidelines for the people who came so that they'd understand what she'd be offering and what they'd need to adhere to in return.

She had a lot to learn, and yet it felt as if a towering fountain of determination inside of her had finally found the source of water that it had been seeking. The fountain flared to life, powerful, shooting streams of water high within her. This was her life's purpose. She knew it, and she knew how she could do it. She had the ability to offer families a new start and a shot at a stable future. Her! Unsure, vulnerable, tentative her.

As had always been the case, tears accompanied Meg's deep emotion. Through water-filled eyes she looked over at Sadie Jo, who was wholly unaware of the monumental things that had been transpiring inside of her. “I love you, Sadie Jo.”

Sadie Jo took one look at Meg and started clucking and crooning. “What's this? Oh, my dear heart. Don't cry. Come here.” She beckoned Meg into a hug that smelled like pink Dove soap. “I love you, too.”

After soaking in a long dose of comfort, Meg pulled back and held Sadie Jo by the shoulders. “I'm so grateful for you. After my mother died, I only had my father left and I needed you. You were there. And you've made a huge difference in my life.”

“I'm the lucky one.” Never one to let a person cry solo, answering tears clouded Sadie Jo's eyes. “I needed you, too. God saw that I didn't have children or grandchildren and gave me you. I'm so blessed. So fortunate.”

“I want to help children, like you helped me.”

“You already are, honey. You're helping Jayden.”

“I want a bushel more, exactly like you said a minute ago.”

Sadie Jo's eyes widened with hope. “Do you think we can?”

“I know we can.”

“Oh, Meg. That would be . . . that would be glorious beyond words.”

She squeezed Sadie Jo's shoulders. “Do you know how often God has used you to talk to me? You've called so many times when I needed it, or visited me when I was struggling, or said something to me that I knew came straight from Him.”

Sadie Jo laid a soft and wrinkly hand against Meg's cheek. “I suppose I did know about it, in a way. He's been my rock for a long time now. A person can hardly live with Him that long without understanding that He has a hand in everything.”

The sound of horses approaching from behind them, from the barn, drew Meg's attention. She let go of Sadie Jo and turned to see Bo walking toward them, leading Banjo and two other horses, all saddled.

“Ladies.” He took in the scene, his face softening into a what-are-they-crying-about-now? expression. “Anyone need tissues?”

Both women swept away their tears with their fingertips. “Thank you for offering, dear, but Meg and I only need tissues when we're having a good hard cry,” Sadie Jo explained. “This was only a little sniffle.”

“Ah.” His gaze searched Meg's face.

It always took Meg a few moments to adjust to the reality of Bo after they'd been apart because the effect of him in the flesh tended to bring on heart palpitations and breathlessness.

“I'm sure you ladies are wondering,” he said, “how I can possibly get any work done when I'm out here hanging around you so often. All I can say is that the person who signs my checks is way too lenient.”

“The person who signs your checks,” Meg replied, “is wondering why you brought out three horses.”

Bo pointed at himself, then Sadie Jo, then her.

Meg pulled a face. “A few moments ago I was thinking how content I was
not
to be riding.”

“But you owe me one more lesson, so you don't have a choice.”

Meg mock scowled at him.

In response, he raised an implacable eyebrow. “You, on the other hand,” he said, turning his attention to Sadie Jo, “do have a choice. I was thinking that you might like to join the rest of us on the trail ride. What do you say?”

“How old do you think I am, Bo Porter?”

“Fifty-five?”

Sadie Jo glowed.

“Come along with us,” Bo said to her. “It'll be fun.”

Mmm-hmm
, Meg thought darkly.
Loads of fun.

“I did love to ride when I was a girl. . . .”

“Since we'll be with Meg,” Bo assured her, “we won't be going any faster than a very slow walk.”

“Hilarious,” Meg said.

“I might . . . well, I fancy I might like to give it one more try,” Sadie Jo decided, “if you'll keep an eye out for me, Bo.”

“Yes, ma'am. There's no way I'm going to let anything happen to either of you.” He looked toward Zach, out in the pasture. “We're going to join you,” he called to the teenager. “Give us a few minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” Zach answered.

Bo helped both Meg and Sadie Jo onto their horses, adjusted the length of their stirrups, then swung onto his own horse effortlessly. Meg sat on top of Banjo, tense as a jackrabbit, but trying to look as normal and cool about riding as everyone else.

Zach led their procession out of the pasture, followed by Brimm, Amber with Jayden, and Sadie Jo. Bo came next, leading Meg's last-place horse with a rope.

“It's a little embarrassing,” Meg said to him under her breath, “that Sadie Jo is riding independently, but that I'm being led along by you.”

“What? This?” Bo lifted the rope. “I only did this so that I could keep you next to me. Maybe we can make out when no one's looking.”

Meg would have laughed, except that she didn't want to risk spooking Banjo.

She expected to loathe every minute of the ride and simply white-knuckle it through. Except that over the course of the next hour Bo's company, the scenery, and the slow gait of her horse combined to work a little bit of magic on her.

During the last stretch, she could even begin to glimpse why
her father had been so fanatical about it. Horseback riding was never going to be her thing, personally—

Hold that thought. Bo controlled his horse with a masculine ease and level of expertise that she found extremely sexy. He wore his Stetson. His rugged hands held his reins, his thumb occasionally rubbing against the leather. If she could always ride with him and could admire him the whole time, then, well . . . she should never say never.

After the ride, Bo and Meg drove to his house and ordered pizza. He kept telling her how well she'd done with Banjo, and she kept wanting to tell him about her plans for Whispering Creek and his horse farm.

Ultimately, though, prudence kept her quiet. Before she could move ahead with any of her ideas, she had to figure out what to do about her full-time job and the duty, heritage, and responsibility that came with it.
Lord? What would you have me do with Cole Oil?