Finding Stefanie (27 page)

By the time Lincoln had gotten the paperwork processed, they’d already taken Gideon to surgery to stop the internal bleeding his broken rib had caused.

Lincoln dialed Stefanie’s number and listened to the phone ring, each drone a moan of dread until she picked up. Then he explained quietly, in a voice he’d heard her use.

“Don’t let him die, Linc,” she said, as if he had some magical power to stop their worst fears. He could already hear her jangling her car keys.

Like a fool he answered, “No, I won’t.”

He felt folded inside out, all his raw and ugly edges showing as he considered the orange molded waiting room chairs. Why couldn’t waiting rooms be filled with soft lights, soothing music, leather sofas? Lincoln wandered the halls. At 4 a.m., the hospital was a lonely place.

Lincoln found Pastor Pike shortly before dawn sitting at the end of the hall on the second floor, his hands over his face. He stood there at the apex between two hallways, caught in indecision.

The pastor met Lincoln’s eyes with such a look of sorrow that Lincoln moved in his direction. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Pike’s treatment of Gideon, but he was remembering a scene he’d done in
Unshackled
, where the hero, unable to help the person he loved, had poured out his helplessness by splitting wood. As that
scene rushed back to him, he saw the same frustration on Pike’s face. He’d like to be splitting wood . . . if not something else.

“You know he didn’t do it,” Lincoln said, sitting.

Pike didn’t need a name. “He probably saved her life.”

“Was she raped?”

“No.” Pike covered his forehead with his hand. “No, thank God.”

“And thank Gideon.”

Pike looked up at him. “And Gideon.”

“He really loves Libby, you know. Maybe he deserves a second chance.”

Pike leaned back, his head against the window. Darkness still shrouded the Bighorn Mountains, although the slightest filter of gray had begun to lighten the gullies, dissipate the lights in the parking lot.

Pike spoke quietly, not to Lincoln, it seemed, although he was the only one in the hall. “It’s not easy to raise two daughters alone. I gave myself excuses for how I protected them, even how I judged the people they spent time with. Missy was always so opinionated and strong, and she knew exactly what she wanted. But Libby is softer. More gullible.”

“Maybe she saw something in Gideon the rest of us couldn’t see.”

“You saw it.” Pike’s tone held self-recrimination.

No, Lincoln mostly saw himself in Gideon. But he didn’t say that. “You said something in a service I attended—”

“The
only
service you attended. I don’t remember what the sermon was about.”

“About letting circumstances define you. Make your decisions for you. You said that God wants to use our circumstances to make us into people of character.”

Pike braced his elbows on his knees, running his hands over his hair. “I remember now.”

“Do you believe that?”

“Hebrews 12 says, ‘Look after each other so that none of you fails to receive the grace of God. Watch out that no poisonous root of bitterness grows up to trouble you, corrupting many.’” He closed his eyes, sighing. “I’m sorry, Lincoln.”

Lincoln didn’t know what to say.

“I’ve been so bitter over my wife’s passing, over having to parent alone, that I’ve completely missed the grace of having Libby and Missy around. I’ve boxed Libby in, afraid that I might lose her too. Afraid that God couldn’t take care of her like I could. Afraid that His plans for her might be different from mine.”

Lincoln stared at his hands. They continued to tremble. He clasped them together. “What does it mean . . . to ‘fail to receive the grace of God’?”

“It means that God is in our lives, giving us moments and people and situations to remind us of His power and love. They aren’t always what we expect, or even want, but God does it so that we might grow, not only as people but in our relationship with Him. God doesn’t promise that everything is going to be good.” Pike’s gaze traveled to Libby’s closed hospital door. “But He does promise to be with us and hold us up through it all. That’s what Paul means when he says in every situation he can be content—at peace—because God can give him strength for everything he needs to endure.”

Pike nodded, as if he’d been speaking to himself. “Even this.” He glanced at Lincoln. “Making sure that no one fails to receive grace means making sure we recognize God at work in all circumstances. Sometimes even I underestimate how important our eternity is to
God.” He stood and held out his hand. “Thank you, Lincoln. Thank you for everything.”

Lincoln took his hand, amazed at how firm his grip was.

He watched as Pike went in, leaving the door open, and sat beside his daughter’s bed. Libby had obviously been given a sedative because she slept soundly. Her father took her hand and bent his head to pray.

“What you don’t realize is that maybe God has already answered your prayer.”

Lincoln turned and stared out at the Bighorns.
God, is that true?
How could that be true? He hadn’t even been able to lift Libby from the car.

But maybe . . . He pressed his hand against the cold glass, and the tremor stopped. He watched the faintest gold of the dawn seeping through his fingers as it reflected off the mountain. Maybe all these years he’d been trying to fill his life with things that made him look strong. Perhaps strength
did
come from inside.

Strength was in his mother, working hard to create a life for him. In Dex, believing in Lincoln when he was a runt kid needing a job. In Stefanie’s seeing good in his broken horses. In Libby, who gently reminded Gideon that he was worth loving. And in Nick, asking Lincoln to take care with his sister.

Strength was even in him . . . earning all their trust enough that in Gideon’s hour of darkness, he had come to Lincoln.

Yes, Lincoln had money and pull and status . . . but even that, God had given to him. Maybe for this very reason.

“Linc?” Stefanie’s voice came from behind him, and he turned. She looked rough, disheveled, with half-moons of exhaustion under
her eyes. But the look of need on her face undid him, and he thought he’d never seen anyone quite so beautiful.

“Gideon’s still in surgery,” Lincoln said.

She buried herself in his arms, her cheek against his chest. He leaned down, breathed in her scent. She molded against him so perfectly it seemed as if she’d always been there.

He walked with her, hand in hand, to the waiting room, where Nick and Piper sat in the orange chairs. Macey had her back to them, staring at her own reflection in the darkened panes of glass. Haley sat in Piper’s lap, her eyes wide as she watched Lincoln.

For the first time in hours, he became aware that he was limping slightly.

Two policemen were standing at the counter, and now they approached him. “Lincoln Cash?” one asked, as if there might be some confusion. He did look a little like a car-crash victim in his bloodstained jeans and jacket. He must have gotten blood on him from Gideon’s head wound.

He nodded.

“The hospital says you brought in Gideon North?”

Lincoln glanced at Stefanie, who’d gone a shade whiter. He squeezed her hand. “That’s right.”

“We have some questions to ask you about the kidnapping of Macey and Haley North.”

Lincoln could have kicked himself when he shot a look at Macey, who’d turned from the window when she heard her name. After all his years as an actor, he should have done a much better job of not giving away the ending.

He winced when one of the cops turned and walked toward her.

And when Stefanie looked up at him with an expression of pain, it tore clear through him.

As if she might be watching some eight-millimeter homemade movie, Stefanie saw the events reel out in jerky, painful, warped bits of action.

“What’s going on here?” Nick demanded, even as Macey pulled her arm away from the reach of the cop who went after her as if she might be a fugitive. Piper held Haley in her arms, wearing her fight face.

Behind the shouting in her mind, Stefanie faintly heard Lincoln’s voice, low and all business. “Gideon didn’t kidnap anyone. Those are his sisters, and he thought Haley was going to be adopted.”

Apparently that meant nothing to the first cop, who was already recognizing Haley, already preparing to take the little girl away from her life at the Silver Buckle.

Away from the Noble family.

Stefanie let go of Lincoln’s hand and pushed past the cop, holding out her arms to Haley, who sprang into them, burying her face in Stefanie’s neck, shaking. Her thin legs clamped tight around Stefanie, hanging on with all she had. Stefanie held her fiercely, smoothing her hair, fighting the urge to do just as Gideon had done a couple of months ago. Run.

Please, God, don’t take these kids away from us. Let them have a family.

Macey stood at the window, arms folded, glaring at all of them, as if they’d somehow betrayed her.

“That kid’s a hero,” Lincoln was saying, telling how Gideon
had saved Libby. “You can’t seriously think he’d be a danger to his siblings.”

His voice, so calm, so determined, wove a thread through Stefanie that held her together. He glanced at her now and again as if to say, “Don’t worry.”

Except he couldn’t hold back the hand of Social Services. Less than two hours later, as a nurse came to inform them that Gideon was beginning to wake, a sleepy caseworker strode through the hospital entrance.

Morning followed the woman in, a cascade of sunlight that seemed to mock them as she questioned Nick and Piper and Stefanie about the past two months. Dread crept in as Stefanie spoke quietly, explaining why they hadn’t called Social Services, explaining why she’d thought life on the Silver Buckle might be a better choice, a new beginning for the kids.

After all, she’d begun to believe it too.

Haley had finally gone to sleep, collapsing in Stefanie’s arms, and when the social worker reached for her, Lincoln intercepted the woman and led her over to one of the officers.

Stefanie longed to listen in on the huddle of caseworker, cop, and superhero. When the caseworker nodded, agreeing to something, hope lit inside her.

Until the woman returned and motioned for Stefanie to give Haley to her.

“No,” Stefanie said, her eyes filling. “Please.”

“You have no right to these children,” the social worker said, tucking her hands under Haley.

The girl stirred, and when she opened her eyes, she let out a scream.

“Haley, listen to me,” Stefanie said, speaking over her screams. “It’s going to be okay.”

It wasn’t, though, and Stefanie wept as Haley thrashed in the woman’s arms, fighting. Macey came to the rescue, practically wrestling the caseworker for her little sister. Haley calmed in Macey’s arms.

But Stefanie was still screaming inside.

Lincoln leaned against a far wall, his expression grim.

Stefanie watched them go, Haley’s eyes, full of fear, holding hers. Accusing. Alone.

Stefanie sank down into the plastic orange chair, sank her head in her hands, and felt everything inside her begin to shatter.

CHAPTER 19

“W
E’LL GET THEM BACK.”
Lincoln didn’t know what else to say, feeling as if he was even lying to himself. Even with his arsenal of lawyers, the charge of kidnapping against Gideon might stick. Despite Gideon’s status as Haley and Macey’s brother, he not only did not have custody, but he’d taken them across state lines—a felony offense according to the law.

Lincoln’s best cajoling, his charm on overdrive, had only been able to convince the social worker to list him as one of Macey and Haley’s approved visitors. She had been inclined to put Stefanie and the rest of the Nobles on the no-contact list.

But he didn’t tell Stefanie that. Especially since he’d finally gotten her to stop crying. To pile insult on top of her pain, she wasn’t allowed to sit by Gideon’s bed in ICU because she wasn’t listed as family, so Lincoln was camped out with her here in the waiting room. He’d passed the time by calling his lawyer, who had contacted a local attorney and retained him to plead Gideon’s case.

Now Stefanie got up from where she sat in the waiting room,
looking thin and tired as she stared out the window. “Thank you,” she said softly, giving him a pained smile.

Lincoln nodded and scrubbed his hand over his face. He’d liked the person he’d been as he stood up for the kids as if he might be an uncle or . . . a father. The image of Stefanie holding Haley, her eyes pleading with him to save the day, had found fertile soil and seeded all sorts of thoughts. What might it be like to have children with long dark hair, teasing dark eyes?

He stood and walked over to Stefanie, putting his hand on the small of her back.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said in a voice he didn’t recognize. “Why didn’t I call Social Services the first day?”

“Stef—”

“No!” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I always do this—I think I can change things or help or even be something I’m not. I’m not their mother, and I should have seen that. I’m nobody, and now I’ve lost the kids and gotten Piper and Nick into big trouble.”

His attention had caught on the word
nobody
. She was hardly nobody. Even he, a recent observer of life on the Silver Buckle, could see that she held the ranch together, that without her in their lives—in his life—everything would unravel.

But he didn’t know how to say that, nor did he know how to soothe the terrible pain in her eyes or the roaring of hurt inside, so instead he pulled her tightly to him. Holding her with every ounce of invincibility he had. “It’ll be okay.” He’d make
sure
it was okay.

Stefanie wrapped her arms around him, leaning against him.

“Isn’t this sweet?” The voice came from behind him.

Stefanie disentangled herself as Lincoln turned.

Elise Fontaine, dressed in black leggings, a printed white cotton
baby doll dress, and a short jean jacket, held her sunglasses in one hand and gave a smile that he’d heard some producer had lately paid her a seven-digit contract to flash.

She looked good too, tan and glowing, as if she’d just breezed in from a week at an elite spa. She cocked her head. “You’re a hard man to track down, Lincoln Cash. Don’t you answer your cell phone? I had to call Delia, who told me you were in the emergency room! Are you okay?”

He’d erred on the side of secretive about his reasons for needing to contact his lawyer when he tracked down Delia in the wee hours this morning. He glanced at Stefanie, who had edged away from him.

She stared at him a second, then wiped her face and turned to Elise. “Hello,” she said, forcing a smile.

Next to Elise, Stefanie had a poise about her that made her seem regal. He didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it before, but Elise looked downright . . . trampy.

Dex came through the waiting room door before Lincoln could think to introduce anyone. “Finally. I can’t believe I have to trek halfway across the planet, or at least Montana, to find you.” The man was always moving, energizing every room he entered. But now he had a windblown look, his hair disheveled, a hint of dust on his leather jacket.

“We stopped by the ranch—what a place, Linc! Love it. When you said you were building a theater, I had no idea. It’s going to be the go-to spot for everyone in the industry. I already have my marketing people working on a magazine, an insider’s view of Cash Productions and the Spotlight Ranch.”

Trust Dex to always be one step ahead of him.

Lincoln still had today’s emotions to contend with. “What are you doing here?” His words came out harsher than he intended, and he noticed Stefanie frowning at him.

Dex clamped Lincoln’s arm. “When someone says hospital and my number-one star in the same sentence, I start to get worried.”

“And
I
missed you.” Elise wiggled up to him and put her hands on his face, giving him a kiss.

Stefanie watched her without blinking.

Lincoln caught Elise’s forearms. “Nice to see you too.”

“Didn’t you get my messages?” Dex said. “I told you I was coming to check out your ranch.” His voice lowered as he looked at their attentive waiting room audience. “What
are
you doing here?”

He needed a cup of coffee. “It’s complicated,” Lincoln said.

“Well, you don’t look so good. And you’d better get your game face on. I saw a news crew not far behind me.”

Lincoln didn’t answer, but he noticed Stefanie inching toward the door.
Wait.

“Dex has a great idea,” Elise said, looping her arm through Dex’s. “We’re going to have the premiere for
Unshackled
on your ranch!”

“What?”

“I need a soda or something,” Elise said. She turned to Stefanie. “Be a sweetheart and fetch me something cold to drink, will you?”

Stefanie glanced at Lincoln, but his brain wasn’t working quite right and he wasn’t sure what to respond to first. A premiere . . . in Phillips? And Stefanie wasn’t the help. . . . “She doesn’t work for me,” he finally said.

Elise appeared surprised—Lincoln had been hoping for ashamed. “Really. I’m sorry. And who are you?”

Lincoln stared at Stefanie, opened his mouth, but the right answer
refused to emerge. She was his friend? his girlfriend? the woman he loved? The names bundled up in his chest, refusing to untangle. And unfortunately the wrong answer tumbled out. “She’s my neighbor.”

Stefanie looked as if he’d struck her. Then she swallowed, and he knew he was truly the king of the jerks. “That’s right. We’re just neighbors.” Then she nodded at Lincoln as if confirming something she’d always known. “I’ll see you back at the ranch.”

“Stef—”

But she’d already brushed past Elise and Dex and ducked through the door.

It was then that the camera flash went off. And his life came crashing back around him.

Could Stefanie be any more of a fool?
Just the neighbor.

He could have answered anything.
Slugger. Horse Girl.
Even
friend
.

Instead he’d picked the one word guaranteed to skewer her. Stefanie actually thought she might heave, woozy as she felt climbing into her truck. Thankfully, she’d driven separately from Piper and Nick, not sure when she might leave, and now she pulled out of the parking lot, nearly sideswiping a rental car.

She wanted to scream, thinking of Gideon lying there in the ICU, alone. He certainly couldn’t count on Lincoln, could he?

She clenched her jaw so tight she thought her molars might crack. That wasn’t fair. Lincoln had been a friend to her, to all of them, the last few hours. A very good neighbor, as it turned out.

Besides, she
was
nobody to Gideon. Not on his list of family. Not even allowed to see him.

Or Macey.

Or Haley.

Her stomach writhed, and again she thought she might be ill.

If she never saw another movie, another tabloid, another hint of Lincoln Cash and his ilk again, it would be too soon.

She wrapped her hands around the steering wheel of her truck, fighting the trembling that shook down her arms, hating the slick of tears in her eyes.

She had really made a fool of herself this time. Had it been only yesterday that she’d practically told him he was her hero, given him a rousing speech about his inner strength, his ability to inspire?

After all that, he’d just stood there and told her exactly what she meant to him.

Nothing.

She floored it out to the road and fishtailed as she turned right.

Slow down.
She pictured herself bleeding and lying wheels-side-up on the side of the road.

The entire scene with Lincoln felt so frighteningly familiar it stole her breath. She’d given a part of herself away again. And gotten it stomped on. Maybe not her body this time but her heart for sure, and lots of her closely guarded hope. She’d even given him a piece of her dreams, the ones that included Gideon’s sisters and others like them.

Stefanie used her palm to whisk away her tears. How she longed for a ride on Sunny. The thought filled her throat. If only she hadn’t been so foolish with Doug, she would have finished school, gotten her vet degree, done something with her life. She never would have had to return to the ranch out of desperation, been trapped there. She probably wouldn’t have been around to see Lincoln
Cash move into the neighborhood, bringing along his parade of gorgeous women.

She never would’ve had to feel this horrible roaring inside her heart.

Stefanie turned off the interstate, grinding up dust on the back road, not slowing, her hands white on the wheel, heading straight for the Silver Buckle. To the land, the house, the memories, the safety, the past, and the future, right back to her new home—her lonely, dismal, cold digs.

After all, where else did she have to run?

Libby felt as if she’d been trampled by a herd of horses. She opened her eyes and groaned. What was—?

Panic reached up and she started to wheeze. A hospital room, complete with a hanging pink curtain and an IV in her arm. Her father sitting on one side, his head on the bed, and Missy asleep on the other side. What had happened? What—she remembered . . .
what did she remembe
r
?

Luther and JB . . .

She gasped, putting her hands over her mouth. “What—?”

“Shh, honey. Shh.” Her father raised his head, blinking, apparently exhausted or at least groggy. “You’re okay.”

She put her hand to her head and felt a stitch; her mouth tasted funny and her tongue felt big. “What . . . did Luther and JB . . .” She swallowed, feeling sick. “I remember them hitting me, and then Luther—but he didn’t. Someone . . .”

“Yes, they’ve been arrested.”

She was staring at her father, at his pained expression, when
memory whooshed back, and suddenly she saw it all on fast-forward. Gideon tackling JB and then getting kicked, and Luther jumping on him, and— “Daddy, what about Gideon? Is he—did they hurt him?”

Missy was awake now and she stood up. “Gideon’s going to be okay. He got out of surgery a couple hours ago.”

Her father fired Missy an age-old look that he used from the pulpit when he wanted them to sit still and be quiet.

“Surgery?” Libby heard the shrill note of panic in her voice. “Why—how bad?”