Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (30 page)

“Oh, okay then,” Jasmine said, her tone happy again. “I'll tell her that you're looking for her.”

“I would appreciate that,” he said.

“So...” Jasmine said, and she seemed to be moving toward the other side of the barn, where Ryan apparently stood, “
are
you dating anyone?” A nervous giggle trickled after the last word.

Maribeth's stomach pitched, not because Jasmine was so blatantly making a move on Ryan, but because she remembered asking a similar question once upon a time, and she remembered how that had turned out.

Would Ryan also take advantage of a young girl's infatuation? Would he lead her on until he got what he wanted, and then drop her when he wanted something else? Would he make her betray her faith? Would he cause her to leave her family? Would he change her life forever, the way Maribeth's life had been changed back then?

“Jasmine—” his deep voice echoed through the barn and settled against Maribeth's chest “—you seem like a very sweet girl...”

“I'm nineteen,” she said, “definitely not a girl.”

Maribeth could tell by the way her words got softer that she was still moving toward the other side of the barn, toward Ryan.

“And everyone says I'm mature for my age,” she added. “I was just thinking that if you weren't dating anyone—because I wouldn't want anyone to get upset with me or anything—but if you aren't, then maybe while you are in Claremont, I could, you know, show you around or something.”

“Jasmine,” he said, and there was a long pause that made Maribeth wonder if he were about to do something dramatic, like kiss her, because she knew what that was like, too, for the guy to give you hope that this was happily ever after and for you to believe it because you want to. “I've just met you,” Ryan continued, “and like I said, you seem like a sweet girl.”

“If you think I'm too young for you to date...” she started, but Ryan halted her.

“The thing is, you need to know someone, connect with them and care about them, if you want to have a relationship with them. And you deserve to have someone that knows you, cares about you and respects you as a person to date.”

“You go out with different girls all the time,” she said. “I've seen the pictures in the magazines and on the internet. And it looks like you normally only go out with them once, except for that Nannette girl that married the baseball player. I remember that one time when one of those magazines said you had secretly married her, or you were trying to plan a secret wedding or something like that.” She paused, apparently waiting for Ryan to say something. When he didn't, she barreled on. “So go out with me one time and see if you might want to go out again. Maybe it's the city girls that you don't like. Maybe you need someone who, you know, likes the simple things?”

“Jasmine, listen, please. I'm not trying to hurt you, and I want to make sure you understand. First of all, as far as those pictures are concerned, most of those women were one-time dates because I knew that I didn't want a relationship with any of them and that they weren't interested in a relationship, either. We attended events together because there were no strings. If any of them had wanted something long-term, I wouldn't have asked them out.”

“Well, this wouldn't even really be a date. I'd like to show you around Claremont,” she said, hope still evident in her tone. “That's all.”

Ryan's deep sigh was loud enough that Maribeth heard it.

“Jasmine,” he said, “you are a beautiful girl—young lady—and I'm going to tell you the truth. You're selling yourself short here. You don't know me.”

“But—” she started.

“You may have read about me in the tabloids and online, but that isn't the same as knowing someone. Many times the things they publish aren't even true or may be partial truths. And I get that you want to show me around town, but I also feel that you may be expecting that tour to turn into something more, and it won't.”

Jasmine gasped, and Maribeth put her hand to her mouth. The blankets shifted beneath her with the movement, and she held her breath and braced for someone to open the door.

A moment passed, and she released the breath and strained her ears to see if Ryan would say more. She didn't want him to lead Jasmine on, but she didn't want him to be cruel, either.

He must have taken a moment to think about his words, because another beat passed before he continued.

“The reason it won't,” he said, “is because you deserve someone who wants to go out with you because they have feelings for you, someone that knows you and the type of person you are, someone that you can connect with emotionally and someone who you can give your heart to.” There was a brief pause, and then he added, “And someone who will give his heart to you. You deserve more than I could give.”

Jasmine sniffed loudly. “I—I'm so embarrassed. I mean, how stupid, to think someone like you would even be the least bit interested—”

“That's not it,” he said. “I told you the truth. You are beautiful and intriguing, and if I were a different kind of man, I would take you up on that tour and maybe see what would come after. But it wouldn't be what you want, and it isn't what I want, either, not because I wouldn't be interested in you, but because I won't let myself take advantage of you. There's a guy out there who will give you that long-term love that you want, and I want to make sure you aren't wasting your feelings on me.”

Another uncomfortable pause magnified the creaks and echoes that were typical in the barn, then Jasmine sniffed loudly once more. “Are you going to tell anyone, like Dana, about this?” Jasmine asked.

“No,” he said, and when she sniffed again, he added, “you have my word.”

“I'm a fool, aren't I?”

He laughed softly. “No, you're not. You're ambitious and not afraid to go after something you want. I'm thinking that'll probably take you far in business one day, should you choose that route.”

Another loud sniffle, and then Jasmine cleared her throat. “I want to own a shop in the square one day. I don't know what kind yet, but that's what I want to do, the way Maribeth owns her place.”

“That's a great goal,” he said. “And if you have any questions about starting your business at that time, you know you can ask me.”

“Thanks,” she said, still sniffing but sounding a little more normal. “And thanks for not telling Dana or anyone about me, you know, kind of hitting on you, or whatever you call it.” She laughed.

“You're welcome.”

“Hey, you said you were looking for Maribeth. Do you want me to tell her when I see her?”

“No, I'll find her later, but thanks for offering.”

Maribeth listened as Jasmine apparently moved toward the tack room, and she said another quick prayer that the girl wouldn't open this door and find her eavesdropping on their private conversation. She hadn't meant to; she'd simply not wanted to come out and let anyone see that she'd been crying.

Thankfully, Jasmine moved past the tack room, but then she stopped and called out, “Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“I was just thinking that Maribeth doesn't date anyone, and she's older, you know, like more your age.”

His laugh filled the air. “So now I'm older? Is that it?”

“No, that isn't what I meant. I was just, you know, thinking about the fact that you were looking for her and then I got to thinking that maybe if you met someone like Maribeth, someone who you already know and someone who is like you, kinda, then maybe you should ask her out and see if she's a more-than-one-date type girl for you.”

“Someone like me?” he asked.

“She started her own business, and it's doing really good, I think. I know it's not as big and everything like yours, but it's a pretty big deal for Claremont. And, well, we all like her, but she's never really dated anyone. I was just thinking that she should have someone cool in her life, and you need to date someone more than once sometime.”

“I do?” Humor laced the question.

“Yeah,” she said, undeterred. “Because, well, you're like, what? Thirty, right?”

“Thirty-one next month,” he said.

“So, you were already pushing the limit for me,” she said. “But you'd be good for Maribeth, and pretty soon, you know, you'll be considered too old, I mean, for some people...”

This time he didn't hold his laugh back, and it echoed against the rafters. “Jasmine, you have gone from flattering me to deflating me in the span of fifteen minutes.”

She laughed. “Sorry. I just think you should think about it.”

“Okay.”

“Well, I've got to get back to the kids at the camp. I guess we're okay, right? I mean, if I see you around, it's fine to say hello? You won't feel funny talking to me after I acted so stupid?”

“Please say hello,” he said.

“Okay. I will.” Then she started walking away again and after a few seconds, Maribeth thought she heard her humming the tune from earlier.

Maribeth waited, listening for signs that Ryan had also left the barn. She didn't hear anything for a moment, and relief flooded through her...then the tack room door opened and revealed the heart-stopping presence of Ryan Brooks. But Maribeth's heart didn't stop; in fact, it pounded so powerfully that she felt each beat in her throat.

Now what would she do?

Chapter Seven

R
yan knew he'd heard something when he and Jasmine were talking. At first he'd thought it might have been one of the barn cats that often hovered in and around the stalls, but none of them made an appearance. He'd continued listening while he had the awkward conversation with Jasmine and hadn't heard the noise again, but still, he had this feeling that they were being watched, or at the very least listened to.

Opening the tack room door, he learned his gut feeling was, as usual, spot-on. “Care to let me know what you were doing in there, or why you didn't say anything when we were talking?”

Maribeth looked as striking as ever sitting on a stack of colorful saddle blankets wearing a red-and-white checked shirt, worn jeans that were frayed at the knees, a straw cowboy hat and boots. Her hair was braided and hung over her right shoulder, a bright red ribbon threaded through the dark locks. Add to all of that the cheeks that flamed due to being caught eavesdropping and her face as guilt ridden as a kid with her hand in the cookie jar, and she was downright adorable.

“I, um,” she started, then her dark brows dipped and she frowned.

“Yes?” he asked, and wasn't too happy with himself that he was enjoying this.

She blinked, straightened on the blankets and seemed to gather her bearings. “I wasn't hiding in here hoping to listen to barn conversations, if that's what you think. I came in here to get molasses treats for the kids to give the horses this afternoon.”

“And then you stayed in there because you heard Jasmine and me talking?”

She shook her head, and the long dark braid shifted on her shoulder. “No, I stayed in here because it was quiet, and I wanted a little privacy to...”

“To what?” he asked.

“Pray.”

Okay. Not what he was expecting. “There seems to be a lot of that going around,” he mumbled, remembering Hannah's statement that Autumn had been praying specifically for him.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. So you were praying and then you heard us talking, and you decided to stay quiet.”

“No, not to begin with,” she said. “I stayed quiet when I heard Jasmine in the barn because I didn't want to come out yet.”

“You hadn't found the molasses treats?” he asked, and he zeroed in on the treats beside her on the blankets.

“No, I had found them, but I didn't want her to see me crying.”

That got his attention. “I thought you said you were praying.”

“I was,” she said, turning away from him to retrieve a small burlap bag. She began to scoop the treats together and then put them in the bag, keeping her eyes diverted from Ryan through the process.

He knew she didn't want to look at him, but that didn't mean he was done asking her questions. “You cry when you pray?”

She slowed down placing the treats in the bag but didn't look up. “Sometimes.” Then, when the last piece of molasses fell into the bag, she finally turned back to Ryan.

He waited until her eyes met his and then said, “I'm still not understanding why you didn't say something and let us know you were here.”

“I don't know why I didn't,” she said. “I heard the two of you start talking, and the conversation was so...sensitive...that then I didn't want you or Jasmine to know I'd heard any of it.”

“But I know.”

“Yeah.” She grabbed the bag and stood. “Listen, I know I shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but I did, and I think you should know that it was wonderful how you handled that with Jasmine.”

Ryan wasn't prepared to take a compliment for merely doing the right thing. “Okay.”

She shook her head. “No, I mean it. You could have hurt her, in several ways. You could have turned her down flat and made her think she wasn't worthy of your attention. Or you could have ignored her, which would have basically left her feeling the same way.” She took a deep breath, pushed it out. “Or you could have made her think you
were
interested and then you could've...you could've...” She blinked again, and to Ryan's dismay a tear dripped from each eye. She brushed them away and shook her head as though willing additional tears to stay put. “Well, I want you to know that even though I shouldn't have heard your conversation, I did, and I want to thank you for not breaking her spirit...or her heart.”

“I wouldn't do that,” he said softly, “to Jasmine, or to anyone else.”

The blinking continued, and she visibly swallowed. “I believe you,” she whispered.

“I'm glad.”

Her phone started beeping, and she slid it from her jeans pocket. “I need to start the hike back if I'm going to meet up with the group when they get done at the other farm. They'll be ready for a trail ride in fifteen minutes, and I need to be there.”

“Why don't you ride one of the horses?” he asked. “That'd be quicker, wouldn't it?”

She pointed out the rear of the barn and toward the lone stallion in the field. “Onyx is the only one we didn't take over for the lessons, and we both know what happens when someone tries to ride him.” She glanced toward Ryan's leg. “Hey, you don't have your crutches.”

“Nope. The doctor okayed me walking with the brace now, and I think I'm doing pretty good.”

“Not too sore?”

“Still hurts, but nothing I can't handle.”

Her phone beeped again. “I need to go.”

“One more thing,” he said, reaching for her forearm and then finding his hand closing gently around her skin. He liked the way it felt, and when he glanced up and saw her looking at his palm against her arm, he thought she might like it, too. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” she asked.

“For questioning me about the charities Brooks International supported and for telling me to look at what Nadia was doing with her ministry. I spent the past few days doing both, evaluating our charitable organizations and also researching the Women's Lighthouse, and I've made some changes that I feel really good about. That's because of you. So thanks.”

Her mouth lifted in a smile. “Nadia told me about your generous support. She was thrilled,” she said, then added, “and so was I. So I guess that's what had you so busy this weekend, too busy to visit the church?” Then, before he had a chance to answer, she continued, “Oh, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. Sometimes I get a little forward in my evangelizing.” Her laugh was soft and sweet, and Ryan liked it. A lot.

“Actually, it's fine for you to ask. I was busy with our public responsibilities committee, having them vet the organizations we're supporting, as well as the Women's Lighthouse, but I could've gone to church if I'd really wanted to. At the time, I didn't think I wanted to go.”

“At the time?” she asked hopefully, her hands beginning to fidget with the small burlap bag. “Has that changed?”

“Apparently, several people in Claremont have been praying for me, for some reason, and I guess I feel I should do something about that.”

She looked skeptical. “You shouldn't let anyone guilt you into going to church. You should go because you want to.”

“I didn't mean it like that. I don't feel guilted into it, but I'm finding myself a little curious about all of this religion I'm surrounded by down here, and I'd like to see what it's all about before I head home to Chicago.”

“I think that's a great idea,” she said, and her phone started ringing this time. She answered, “Hey.” A few nods, and then she said, “I'll meet y'all there.”

“You have to go,” he said.

“I do, but I've enjoyed talking to you, and I've come to realize something about you this afternoon, Ryan Brooks.”

“What's that?” he asked.

“You're not all that bad.”