Finding Stefanie (21 page)

Macey rested her chin on her knees, her voice dropping. “He was pretty rough on Gideon.”

Stefanie held back a wince.

“The thing is, with Gideon around, Dad mostly went after him. Not Mom or me or Haley.”

How awful to feel safer because someone else was getting the blame. However, hadn’t Stefanie felt some relief when her father focused on Nick’s absence and worried over Rafe’s career? With his attention on her brothers, he couldn’t ask the hard questions: Why his only daughter had quit school halfway through her freshman year. Why she’d returned to the ranch, thrown her life into training rescued horses and running cattle. Why she hadn’t followed her dreams of being a veterinarian. For a long time, she didn’t care that he didn’t inquire . . . just felt glad she could hide. After a while, especially when he’d gotten so sick, the questions didn’t matter anymore.

“Gideon says that we can start over here.” Macey looked up at her as if waiting for confirmation.

Stefanie sat on the edge of the tub. “My dad used to say that you have a new chance to change your world every day. It’s actually a verse in the Bible—Lamentations 3:23. God’s mercies are new every morning.” She took Macey’s hand. “Hey, how about we put some nail polish on.”

Macey shrugged.

Stefanie hadn’t worn nail polish in years . . . maybe since she’d been Macey’s age. But she must have picked up a bottle along the way because she found some bright pink polish in the bottom of the drawer. She shook the bottle, raising one eyebrow.

Macey put down her knees and held out her ravaged fingers.
“I’m really sorry about Clancy,” she said as Stefanie put on the polish. “Do you think someone did it because of us?”

Stefanie didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t even going to think those thoughts—or at least, had been trying not to. But the fact that someone might come after their family because of . . . what? Fear? Prejudice? It made everything inside her coil in fury. “It doesn’t matter. You and your family are staying.”

Macey remained silent for a moment as she watched Stefanie brush on the polish. The smell filled the tiny bathroom.

“I never thought Gideon would actually come for us.” She spoke so quietly that Stefanie practically held her breath to hear her. “I wrote to him over and over, and I couldn’t believe he actually came to the home to get us, like I asked him to.”

“Gideon’s a pretty great brother.”

“It wasn’t his fault—what happened. He didn’t do it.”

Stefanie blew on the first hand.

“He hadn’t even wanted to boost that car. But his friends did it, and he got dragged along.”

Stefanie stilled. She hadn’t heard the entire story, just bits and pieces from Gideon—like the fact that he’d been in juvenile lockup. She’d spent more time focusing on who he was now. She didn’t look at Macey as she took her other hand, straightening out her fingers. “People do things they regret when they want someone to like them.” She ran her finger over Macey’s chewed nails. “Or when they’re hurting.”

Then she dipped the small brush in the polish and began to paint them. “Let them grow, and in no time, they’ll be healed.”

Macey lifted her fingers and blew on them. She looked at Stefanie and smiled. “Yeah, you’re a lot like my mom.”

Stefanie wasn’t sure why, but the words found tender places she didn’t know existed. She finished a second layer on Macey’s fingers. “Beautiful.”

Macey rolled her eyes. “I’m not really a pink girl,” she said, though something in her voice suggested otherwise. “But thanks.” She got up, blowing on her fingers as she left the bathroom.

“People do things they regret when they want someone to like them.”
Stefanie’s own words lingered as she gathered her wet towel, hanging it on the rack. Was she being naive with Lincoln? letting him inside her heart to ravage it, just like . . . just like Doug Carlisle had done so many years ago?

What was it about her that made her fall for the wrong kind of man? the kind of man she so clearly didn’t belong with? One look in the mirror, at her straight-as-a-fence-post figure, her lifeless hair, her drab eyes, told her that Lincoln was just playing games with her heart. He’d toss her aside, just like Doug had, when he got bored with her.

She closed her eyes, hating the voices inside that told her—even if they were right—that she didn’t deserve a love story.

Not, at least, with a leading man like Lincoln.

God’s mercies were new every morning. Except for girls like her.

CHAPTER 15

H
E WAS HAVING A
Lincoln Cash the Invincible day. He’d started naming his days. Some were weak days, when the fatigue or numbness or dizziness or even his own fears crawled over him. Those were the days he drove the four-wheeler, which he kept parked near the house, down to the work site to direct traffic or over to the corral to watch Stefanie, who spent more and more of her time here, training the animals she’d talked him into buying. She’d showed him how to teach a horse to join up—that miraculous moment when a horse knows you’re his friend and will bond with you, follow you everywhere.

He wasn’t sure who had joined up with whom, but he had begun to believe that he, too, might follow Stefanie anywhere. He had imagined her smile on him when he’d marched into Pastor Pike’s house and told him not to even consider Gideon a suspect.

The North kids weren’t the only ones who’d started to feel like they’d finally found a home in Phillips. Until the crumpled Hollywood insider report, Lincoln hadn’t given a thought to the
tabloids or his agent or even his upcoming movie premiere of
Unshackled
. Dex had left a cryptic message on his voice mail a few days ago mentioning the event, but Lincoln still had a month before he had to make an appearance—however brief.

It felt light-years away.

Which, hopefully, was where Gina the stalker was also. He’d spent roughly three days on the phone with Delia and his other representatives, tracking down Gina and her whereabouts. According to a local PI he’d used a few times, Gina had vanished shortly after she’d walked out of the county jail after serving her time. Which meant she could be anywhere . . . including Phillips, Montana.

Perfect.

Lincoln was trying to forget about Gina and her threats, however, at least for the moment, and focus now on choosing between a springer-spaniel mix and a fuzzy-looking thing he might call a sheepdog. Around him, in the Sheridan pound, dogs of all sizes barked at him, each one fighting for attention, some jumping up and pawing at their cage doors, others simply staring at him with eyes that begged him to take them home. One basset hound lay on the floor, looking up at him with what resembled tears filling his eyes.

Thanks to Stefanie’s influence, Lincoln felt despicable for not adopting the entire lot.

He picked the sheepdog and waited while the pound managers cleaned him and updated the animal on shots and papers. The dog—he had to still be a puppy for his friskiness and the way he licked Lincoln’s face and neck—had big brown eyes and brown and white stringy fur, not unlike a mop. Lincoln also bought a cage and put the dog inside with about a year’s supply of biscuits. He secured the cage beside him on the truck seat.

Lincoln hoped bringing Stefanie a new dog less than a week after her other dog had died wasn’t excessive. But he couldn’t help it. It seemed that lately everything inside him wanted to make Stefanie smile.

He was a man living on borrowed time. Any moment, this happiness could burst and rain down pain. And he knew this because he had never felt so free, so hopeful . . . so himself.

He’d tucked Lewis Carter so far into the past, mostly because of the memories, but also because Lewis had been the person inside who had wanted a home and a dog and maybe a wife and someday a family. And Lewis came storming right out of hiding when Stefanie looked his way.

Sometimes Lincoln caught himself wondering what it might be like to let her inside his life—really inside, to look at all his weaknesses and even the ugly future before him. But maybe also to wake up to her smile and someday have kids, if the doctors said it would be okay, each one of them with dark hair and matching dark eyes and a smile that could light up his universe.

He put his fingers through the cage, and the dog licked them. “I sure hope she likes you.”

The Buckle was quiet when he pulled up, the sun sinking behind the log house. He got out of the truck, leaving the door open, and breathed in the cool near-summer air, smelling the life blooming from the prairie grass, the blossoming hills. He knew that Nick and Cole St. John, with whom Nick ran the Silver Buckle, had held a roundup two weeks ago, so most of the cattle were on a faraway pasture. Still, two large bulls lounged in the field behind the house.

Climbing back into the truck, Lincoln opened the cage and
released the squirming dog. He’d also purchased a collar and a leash, which he put on the puppy before letting him down to sniff.

He was negotiating the porch steps when he heard laughter spilling out from the front door. It sounded like Stefanie and perhaps Piper.

“Are you saying you’re falling for him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. What’s not to love?” Stefanie’s voice, full of just enough honesty, stopped Lincoln on the porch. He could barely hear above the sudden rushing of his heartbeat.

“You can’t be serious,” Nick said. “Aside from the fact that you aren’t leaving the ranch and that he’ll someday return to his life in Hollywood, he’s not a Christian, is he? That thought alone should make you put on the brakes.”

Lincoln wasn’t a Christian? He thought he was a Christian—hadn’t he gone to church when he was a kid? That counted, didn’t it? Nick’s words made him bristle.

“I’m not sure he
isn’t
a Christian. A man doesn’t act like he did at church without having something between him and God, even if it might be fractured.”

Thank you, Stefanie.

Only, her words made Lincoln squirm. He hadn’t exactly turned around to confront the feelings Pastor Pike’s words had stirred up:
“If we let our situation define us instead of lead us to God, then there is no victory.”

Frankly, considering the source made it that much easier for Lincoln to push the words into the dark recesses of his mind. But even more than that . . . the words frightened him. Because if God was using Lincoln’s circumstances to mold him, he just might fold.

“But don’t panic,” Stefanie was saying. “I’m not saying I love him. I just . . . really like him.”

Lincoln looked down at the dog, who had chosen now to piddle on the porch, guilt raking over him for eavesdropping. But he couldn’t seem to move, yearning to know . . .

“I’ve never seen you this happy. I don’t want you to get hurt again—especially if he doesn’t turn out to be the guy you’re hoping for.”

Please, let her say that he was her type. That he was exactly the guy she was hoping for. That he’d proven something to her. . . .

And what did Piper mean by the words
get hurt again
?

Did this have anything to do with the mysterious something Stefanie had mentioned but never elaborated on, the something that had her swinging like Babe Ruth?

Of course, the tattler on the other end of the leash barked, just as Lincoln would have given his right leg or maybe his new pickup to discover Stefanie’s answer.

But suddenly it didn’t matter because when Stefanie opened the door, those beautiful eyes grew wide, and her hands covered her mouth. She looked up at Lincoln even as she crouched. “Who is this?”

“He’s your new dog if you want him.”

As if the animal had already confirmed the answer, he leaped into Stefanie’s arms. She giggled—a sound that went right to the center of Lincoln’s body and warmed him clear through. She carried him into the kitchen, grinning.

Feet pounded down the stairs, and in a moment, Macey had the dog in her arms, laughing as he licked her face. The puppy’s entire body wriggled with joy, his tail moving so fast that it caught Haley,
who had come down the stairs with Macey, in the face, and even as she blinked, she laughed.

Then the dog turned to Haley and launched. Haley went down, giggling, petting, closing her eyes as the animal bathed her ears, her cheeks, her eyes. “Stop! Stop!” she said.

The entire room went still. Piper and Stefanie gasped, and even Nick didn’t move.

Haley lay on the floor, still giggling, the dog now over her, licking her ear.

Macey wore a look of triumph and grinned at Stefanie. “See, I told you she could talk.”

Haley didn’t seem to notice that everyone was staring at her, wearing funny faces. She wrapped her arms around the dog and buried her face in the animal’s fur.

Stefanie stood and took Lincoln’s hand. “What’s his name?”

“Bill? You know, sorta because it was a guy named Cash who found him?”

“Bill,” she repeated, and something sweet entered her eyes. “I like it.” She looked at him, and he knew her words before she spoke them. “You did good, Superhero.”

In that moment, he knew for sure that today could only be called a Lincoln Cash the Invincible day.

“I’m not saying I love him. I just . . . really like him.”

Those words throbbed in Stefanie’s mind as she wrapped her arms around Lincoln’s waist and let him drive them over the hills of the Big K. She thought he’d want to explore his land on horseback, but sitting behind him on the four-wheeler made her feel modern
and fun, the air in her hair, the motor drowning out words. Not that she needed to talk. Probably she shouldn’t.

Lincoln had bought a dog for her yesterday. An adorable dog with brown eyes and curly fur and the tendency to want to sit in her lap and lick her hands. She’d never had such a crazy, extravagant, thoughtful gift in all her life.

Not that men were in the habit of giving her gifts, but . . . a
dog
.

It had made her wish she’d told him exactly what had been on her mind the night he’d split his gorgeous chin open. That she’d been so utterly wrong about him. He wasn’t at all like Doug Carlisle, the man who had made her believe in her foolish eighteen-year-old heart that he’d loved her, that he wanted to marry her. That she should give him her body as well as her heart.

Sometimes she still saw Doug on commercials for his family’s car dealership branches, paunchier but still dazzling with his blue-eyed, golden-haired, local-boy-turns-star glory.

But his radiance didn’t have a prayer of brilliance next to Lincoln’s supernova shine. Which had Stefanie scared to death. Despite the gift of Bill the dog. If her heart didn’t watch out, it would fall right out of her chest and into Lincoln’s strong arms.

But before she did that—or hopefully before her feelings moved one more inch in the direction of no return—she planned on getting to the bottom of his relationship, or lack thereof, with God. Nick was right: she had no business falling for a guy who didn’t share her beliefs. But she couldn’t get past the sense that deep inside, Lincoln longed for redemption—and just didn’t know how to ask. If she could, she wanted to help him ask.

With the picnic lunch strapped behind her on the four-wheeler, the day had all the makings of romance—in the wind-stirred cirrus
clouds, the way the grass greened under the grooming of the sun, the hint of summer in the fragrance of lupine and primrose in the air. The Big K seemed lonely without the cattle, and she noted a couple of fences—especially the ones that bordered Silver Buckle property—that needed mending. Lincoln drove her through gullies and ravines and even over a small jump. A thrill of fear tornadoed in her stomach.

Not unlike the one in her heart. What on earth was she doing?

They finally stopped at the top of Cutter’s Rock, right where it connected to Silver Buckle land. From this vantage point, she could look west to the Bighorn Mountains, or east, where the parallel tire tracks headed toward the homesteaded Noble house. She got off, staring at her land as Lincoln untied the picnic basket.

“My great-grandfather first lived in a house just over that hill,” she said, pointing. “An old log cabin.”

Lincoln set the basket down and pulled out a blanket. “When I looked at a map of the property, I saw that this place might overlook your property.” He peered over the edge of the ridge into the canyon below. “Good thing Dex never saw this. He’d turn it into one of his classic Dex Ditch and Roll escapes.”

“What’s that?” She grabbed the end of the blanket and helped him lay it out. “Is it painful?”

“Yes, very.” When he grinned at her, she felt another swirl in her stomach. “Dex does it in all his movies—I have to jump out of a moving vehicle. Mostly you just launch off, roll, and land in the padding the stunt guys put out.”