Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (33 page)

His mouth flattened. “I wish I'd have paid more attention back then, when Dana was so excited about the camping facilities they were creating for church groups.”

“You didn't want the camp here?” she asked, surprised.

He smiled. “Isn't that just like my sister, not to tell you about that? No, I wasn't on board at all. In fact, you could say I was her main opposition, a thorn in her side as she tried to get Brooks International to back the investment for the dude ranch. The marketing analysis didn't lend credence to the success of a dude ranch in Alabama.”

“But I'm assuming you agreed to it eventually, or it wouldn't be here, right?” she asked.

He took a deep breath, readjusted his leg and consequently slid a little closer to Maribeth. She didn't mind at all. “Yeah, she won me over before it was all said and done, and I'm glad now. This was undoubtedly a sound investment.”

“God was behind it,” Maribeth said. “He had to be. He knew that this place could touch a lot of lives, and when He's behind something, then it works.”

“You really believe that, don't you?”

“With all of my heart. I turned away from Him once in my life, and if I'd have just listened to Him, or my family, I wouldn't have gone through—” She realized he'd gone completely silent, listening to her every word, and also that she was telling him more than she intended. “Anyway, everything is better when you have God where He belongs—in control.”

“I wouldn't mind it if you decided to tell me the rest,” he said softly. “Whatever you were about to say.”

She swallowed, uncertain how to respond. She'd finally distanced herself from that awful time in her life, and she didn't want to talk about it, wasn't even sure why she'd brought it up. Except she wanted to talk to Ryan, to be open with him, for some reason.

“It's okay,” he said. “You don't have to if you aren't ready to share.”

“Thanks,” she said. Yes, she might decide to confide in him eventually, but those old fears were still unsettling enough to keep her silent for the time being.

Ryan looked disappointed, but he didn't try to coax her anymore. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back to enjoy the mist from the falls brushing against his skin, and Maribeth found herself mesmerized by the image, like a sculpture of a beautiful male, enjoying the coolness of the falls on a heated afternoon.

“This is incredible,” he said.

“I know.” She shifted, uncomfortable at her unabashed gawking, and when Ryan opened his eyes, she glanced toward the creek.

“What is it?” he asked.

She'd been thinking about this ever since their interaction in the barn. “I wanted to ask you about something, but the only reason I even know about it is because of my eavesdropping earlier, so since I shouldn't have heard, then maybe I shouldn't ask....”

“Okay, you've got my attention,” he said, “and there's no way you can go without asking whatever it is now. That'd just be cruel.”

She turned toward him again and said, “Jasmine said something about a girl that the magazines said you were going to marry, or that you secretly married.”

His jaw tensed, and he undoubtedly knew where this conversation was headed and wasn't eager to go there.

But Maribeth wanted to know, so she forged ahead. “Did you marry someone, and it went badly? Is that why you said that Jasmine deserved someone who would give his heart to her, and that was more than you could give?”

He turned to face her and then winced.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked,” she said, feeling guilty for causing him pain. “I'm being nosy, and usually that's not my nature at all. In fact, I hate it when someone asks me about things I don't want to talk about. Why should I think that you're any different?”

“Hey, I was just moving my leg,” he said. “If I turn it the wrong way, my knee hurts. That doesn't have anything to do with your question. You want to know, so I want to tell you.”

Maribeth could sense the seriousness of what he was about to say. He'd decided to confide in her, to trust her, and she was incredibly touched that he didn't simply tell her he wasn't ready to talk, the way she'd told him a few minutes ago.

“I met Nannette three years ago. I was twenty-seven and she was twenty-five. She was from South Carolina but going to school in Chicago, attending the School of the Art Institute. I saw her for the first time at one of the art galas.”

“I believe I have a photo on my wall of you at one of those,” she said.

He nodded. “I don't miss their events. My father was a big supporter of the Art Institute, and on that evening, we were attending a gala there that showcased the school's senior artists. I was admiring one of her paintings when she walked up and introduced herself as the struggling artist who created that masterpiece.”

“Did she know who you were?” Maribeth asked.

“You see, that's a good question, because at the time she acted as though she didn't, and I really liked that. I introduced myself as Ryan and didn't provide a last name. We chatted, and I'll be honest, I was taken with her that first night. I'm pretty sure she knew.”

“Most people know you from the tabloids,” Maribeth said.

“Yeah, I get that now. But back then, before my father passed away, I wasn't as notably in the public eye. I rarely made the tabloids, unless it was a photo of me with my father, so there was the off chance that she didn't recognize me,” he said.

“Which was what you wanted,” Maribeth said.

“Like I said, I didn't provide a last name. And it was kind of nice, thinking that she was interested in me regardless of the fact that my last name was Brooks.”

Shock rippled through Maribeth. Did he not realize how exceptional his looks were, or how easy he was to talk to, or how a woman could get lost in the sound of his voice and his laugh? “You think she wouldn't have been interested enough to talk to you if she hadn't known your last name?”

“That's the thing,” he said. “I'll never know. That night she joked about the whole starving-artist persona and said she didn't mind being poor forever if she were able to convey her feelings on a canvas.” He laughed. “I fell for it.”

“Are you sure she wasn't telling you the truth?”

“Oh, yeah, I'm sure,” he said, the pain of those words evident in his tone. “We dated nearly two years. Naturally, I told her who I was after the first few dates, and she acted as though it didn't matter whether I had money or not, whether I would inherit my father's business or not. She pretended she loved me, that I was the only man she could ever love, and that she would stay by my side forever.”

“And then?” Maribeth whispered, suspecting she knew what happened. “Jasmine said something about you secretly marrying? Did you marry her?”

He shook his head. “No. That was merely tabloid gossip, fodder to sell more copies. It wasn't true. We never married. But it's almost laughable how close they were to the truth. They said we secretly married and then had it annulled because she met Alex Sharp at a party I hosted. At the time he played third base for the Cubs. Since then, he's been traded to the Yankees. Anyway, they said we annulled our marriage when she met him at a Brooks party.”

“And that was close to the truth?” Maribeth asked. She scooted nearer to him on the rock and placed her hand over his, her small fingers sliding easily between his longer ones. “How was it close to the truth?”

“On the night of that party, a celebration party for a resort we'd purchased in Oahu, she met Alex. Like me, he became infatuated with her from the moment he saw her, but unlike me, he made his move swiftly. From the photos the tabloids caught, after the party ended and I took her to her apartment, she went back out...with Alex. Seems he took her on some sort of
Pretty Woman
type of shopping spree that night, had the stores open for her and basically gave her everything she wanted. Then he told her he wanted to give her everything she wanted for life, and she said yes. Or that's the line they gave the press when asked about their rapid engagement and the wedding in Jamaica that occurred merely two months after the night of that party.”

And Maribeth had thought
her
experience with the tabloids was bad. His was so much worse. If she hadn't started avoiding even glancing at the papers at the supermarket after her own ordeal, she, like Jasmine, might also have known about Nannette's deception. And Ryan's pain. “Oh, Ryan, I'm so sorry.”

“Wait,” he said. “It gets better. The reason that I said the tabloids nearly got it right, though, was because I'd planned to propose that night. I had the ring in my pocket and was ready to get down on one knee, the whole nine yards. But the timing never seemed right. And then she went out with Sharp, and I knew she'd never been in love with me. She was in love with the money.” His smile was forced. “There are a whole lot of people out there who can fall in love with the money.”

She slid her hand to his wrist and twisted her body to face him. “It's terrible when you think someone loves you, and when you love them, and then—” she blinked and her tears fell free “—you find out that they don't.”

Ryan looked directly at her now, and she knew he undoubtedly saw the pain in her eyes, but she didn't look away this time. He'd opened up to her, and she could feel herself wanting to do the same. But what would happen if she did? What if the two of them did become close and then the truth of her past hit the tabloids once more? Because that's what would happen if she let herself become involved with someone like Ryan. She couldn't go through that again.

She couldn't.

“You've felt that before, too, haven't you?” he asked. “You thought someone loved you, really believed that they cared about you, and then you found out that they didn't.”

She couldn't deny it, so she nodded. “And the worst part is, once you've been treated so badly, it's difficult to open your heart again, isn't it?”

She hadn't intended to, but she'd moved a little closer as she spoke.

“It is difficult,” he whispered, “nearly impossible.” And before she could stop him from doing what seemed as natural as the waterfall, the woods and the creek surrounding them, he eased even closer and pressed his lips to hers.

Chapter Nine

R
yan woke bright and early the next day, but he called and moved his therapy session to noon. He hadn't stopped thinking about the time he'd spent with Maribeth, and he didn't want to wait until the end of the day to see her again.

Before their conversation—and that kiss—he'd known he was attracted to the lady, but he hadn't been certain whether it was only a physical attraction or perhaps an intellectual attraction, because of the gem of an idea she had for her business. But the more he was with her and got to know her, the more he realized he was smitten with the entire package that was Maribeth Walton. Emotionally. Physically. Even spiritually. Because her intense faith had him contemplating his own relationship with God.

Ryan sat near the window drinking his coffee and watching for Maribeth to arrive. John and Dana had camped with the group at Jasper Falls last night, so Ryan had the place to himself, which was fine. It gave him time to collect his thoughts and to consider the feelings an intriguing brunette had stirred up yesterday afternoon.

He'd already started considering ways that they could move forward with a relationship, if indeed that was where this was headed. At first he thought it wouldn't work. She lived in Claremont, had her business here and undeniably loved the small-town life. His business—his life—was in Chicago.

Ryan reached the bottom of the cup of coffee. He stood and made his way to the kitchen, his steps a bit off-rhythm against the hardwood floor due to his brace. But it was better than yesterday. Each day, thanks to his therapy, had been better than the one before. Soon he'd be done with rehab completely and able to go home. Back to living.

He poured another cup of coffee and thought about how relaxing mornings were on the farm. Taking time to drink coffee, scan the fields, think about the day to come. In Chicago, his alarm went off and he went through the rushed morning routine that involved a 5:30 a.m. workout with his personal trainer, a scalding-hot shower, a protein bar with his coffee, dressing in a power suit and then heading to the office for another round of meetings, agreements and compromises.

Ryan inhaled the coffee, took another drink and decided to do something he hadn't done in...probably forever.

Dear God, if You hear me, and if You are in on all of this, whatever is happening to me now, being in Claremont and meeting Maribeth and starting to think about a relationship again, starting to think about You, then I want to say thank You. Amen.

It wasn't much of a prayer, he supposed, but it was better than nothing. He'd have to get used to praying. It was probably like anything else a person did and would only get better with determination and practice. His father had drilled that into him repeatedly over the years, and that was one philosophy of Lawrence Brooks's that Ryan would never disagree with.

Not that he disagreed with much of his father's philosophy.

But if Ryan did give faith a try, and he'd already decided he wanted to at least give it consideration, then that was completely opposite to what Lawrence Brooks had taught him growing up. Ryan's father was a fierce proponent of “self-made, self-earned.” He'd never thanked God for anything.

“Daddy changed in the end. He realized he had a lot of things backwards.”

Dana's words echoed through Ryan's thoughts. He'd scoffed at her insistence that their father had had that change of heart toward the end of his life. But in the brief time that Ryan had been in Claremont, and particularly the time he'd been around Maribeth, he'd felt his own heart changing.

Maybe his father had found a belief—and a need—for a higher power in the end.

The sound of a car engine caught Ryan's attention, and he left the kitchen and made his way to the front window in time to see Maribeth climbing from her car. Something caught the morning sunlight and sparkled as she moved. Ryan squinted to see the source of the glimmer and found himself admiring the unique creation by the woman who could, if she wanted, dress the stars on a budget. A floral-print shirt, cream with peach flowers, matching cream-colored cowboy hat with a peach sash, worn jeans tucked into equally worn boots...and a scarf threaded through the belt loops with those sparkling stones that captured the sunshine dangling from the ends.

Ryan set his coffee mug on the table as she disappeared into the barn and then he headed out the door. He skipped the ramp and took the steps instead, the unlocked brace cinching with each step. He was glad when he reached the ground. Yesterday, riding Sam had been effortless once he was in the saddle. Mounting and dismounting were the hard parts, but riding had been a piece of cake and even more enjoyable with Maribeth riding Fallon at his side.

The soft earth gave with every step toward the barn, and Ryan was reminded of that night in the rain when his crutch broke in two and Maribeth rushed to his side. Smiling at the memory of himself covered with mud on the ground, he continued his progress. Eventually, she exited the barn and moved to the fence with something in her hand. She climbed onto the bottom rail so she could lean over as she held out the treat, a carrot, and attempted to coax Onyx over.

Ryan continued his trek and finally picked up the pace when the ground became more compact beside the barn. As he neared, he heard her words to the stallion.

“Come on, big guy. You know you want this. Those kids today are gonna want to see you up close and personal. And I've gotta figure out a way to make that happen. You want a snack, don't ya?”

Ryan had never noticed how strongly Maribeth's Southern accent came into play when she spoke, but there were hardly any words in her vocabulary that came out as one syllable, each sentence sounding like a melody.

“Do y'all want his carrot?” she called to Sam and Fallon, who were nearing the fence and ready to take Onyx's discards.

Y'all.
Ryan took in the exquisite lady who could easily adorn a Maldives postcard and could also use the word
y'all
(with two syllables, no less) in a sentence.

She pressed the carrot against the top fence rail to break it in two and then held her palms out to her new best friends. Sam and Fallon wasted no time getting their treats. She rubbed each of their noses and then showed them her palms were empty. “Sorry, nothing else right now, but I'll give you another one when the kids get to the barn after their breakfast.” Then, after Sam and Fallon realized there was no more food and moved back to the pasture, she leaned over the fence again. “You missed out. You do know that, don't you?”

Onyx tilted his head, then turned away to look the opposite direction, putting his backside toward Maribeth.

“Well, that wasn't very nice,” she said.

Ryan laughed and she jumped, nearly losing her balance on the fence rail.

Her dark eyes widened. “Hey, how long have you been there?”

“Long enough to see how cute you are trying to bribe a stallion.”

A slight flush tinted her cheeks and the area just beneath her throat, and Ryan wondered if it was because he startled her, or because she was remembering the kiss they shared yesterday afternoon. Or both. Then she lifted an arched brow and pointed a warning finger toward him. “You should tell people when you're sneaking up on them.”

“I think that'd defy the whole definition of sneaking, don't you?” he asked.

Her mouth twitched, and he could tell she was fighting a smile, but she reined it in. “Well, you should have let me know you were walking over.”

“It took me long enough that I thought you would've noticed, but you were too into trying to win Onyx's favor to pay attention to the guy semi-limping from the house.”

“You're moving better every day.” She stepped down from the fence rail and looked at the big black horse, a good seventeen hands tall, only a few feet away from the fence and still facing the opposite direction. “You'd think he was showing me his backside on purpose,” she said.

Ryan laughed. “Maybe you didn't offer him the kind of treat he wanted. He's partial to green apples. So is Fallon, if you want to get down to it, but she'll eat anything. Onyx is more particular.” He nodded toward the barn. “Dana has taught me a few things about their favorite treats. She keeps a burlap sack of the apples inside the tack room. Want me to get you one?”

“No, I know where they are. I've been giving them to Fallon, and I actually tried to get Onyx to eat one a couple of days ago,” she said, easily climbing through the fence rails and then starting toward the barn. “But he gave me the same treatment I'm getting right now.” She smirked and pointed to the horse's tail.

Ryan laughed. “Want me to try?”

“I'm surprised you're so willing to give him what he wants since he's the one who put you in that cast,” she called from inside the barn.

“He didn't do it,” Ryan said, watching her return with a couple of Granny Smith apples. “Whatever spooked him put me in the cast. I don't have any problem with Onyx. He's got attitude, but I never met a stallion that didn't. And I'll ride him again one day. You can count on that.”

“Sounds like Onyx isn't the only thing here right now with attitude,” she said.

Ryan knuckled his cowboy hat like a guy who wore one on a regular basis, and it didn't feel all that awkward. Then he winked at her and was rewarded with her flushed cheeks.

“You're too much,” she said, shaking her head.

“I try.” He pointed to the black stallion making his way toward the fence. “Look, attitude or not, he wants one of those apples.”

Maribeth held out her hand toward the impressive animal. Ryan heard her breath hitch when Onyx eased toward her and brought his velvety lips against her palm. “Oh, my,” she whispered. “The kids will love having something as beautiful as you come up close. You really aren't anything to be afraid of, are you?”

“No, he isn't,” Ryan said, “and I agree with your earlier statement, too.”

“What's that?” she asked.

“He isn't the only thing around here with attitude.” He tilted his head toward Maribeth, and she laughed.

“You're saying
I
have a problem with my attitude?” she questioned.

“I didn't say that. I said you have attitude. There's a difference,” he clarified.

She gave Onyx the second apple and he hurriedly chomped it away. “You make me laugh,” she said.

“You talking to the horse now, or me?”

As if proving the statement, her laughter rang out. “Both!” When Onyx finished the apple and turned to make his way toward the water trough, Maribeth climbed over the fence to stand beside Ryan. “I didn't think you'd be here this morning. I thought you'd be at your rehab therapy.”

“I moved it to the middle of the day,” he said. She was standing near, so near that he could feel the warmth of her body against his side. And his eyes wandered to her mouth.

She ran her teeth over her lower lip and glanced toward the woods. “John and Dana will be bringing the kids here soon. They're spending the morning fishing over at the pond and are coming by the barn on the way. That's where I'm meeting them.”

“When will they be here?” he asked, their faces mere inches apart now.

“Any minute,” she whispered, and Ryan liked the fact that she also focused on his lips, and then her eyes slid closed.

He kissed her slowly, taking his time to enjoy the caress of her mouth against his, and he didn't attempt to stop until he heard the sound of horses' hooves in the distance.

When he ended the kiss, Maribeth groaned her disapproval and he laughed, then brushed one more soft kiss across her mouth before saying, “They're almost here.”

Apparently reality set in, because her eyes popped open and she whirled to see the group, so busy laughing and chatting as they neared that they didn't pay any attention to the couple kissing by the barn. However, the all-knowing look on Dana's face—and John's, for that matter—said his sister and brother-in-law hadn't missed a thing.

“Ryan, I thought you'd be at therapy now,” Dana said.

“Moved it to the afternoon,” he said, not making any effort to put any distance between himself and Maribeth.

“O-kay,” she said, grinning.

Ryan had no doubt his sister had hoped something would happen between him and her friend. So she should be happy now, because something was definitely happening.

“We were stopping here to pick up Maribeth, Nadia and Jasmine, right?” John asked.

“Nadia texted me that they were running a little late,” Maribeth said.

“You want to stay here and wait on them? When they get here y'all can meet us down at the pond,” he continued. “That'll give me a chance to distribute the rods and bait.”

“Sure,” Maribeth said.

John led the way with the kids and chaperones following, and Dana waited to bring up the rear. She brought her horse near the fence, glanced to make sure the campers were out of earshot and then said, “I'm glad you two are...talking.”

Ryan knew she'd probably seen them more than talking, but he simply said, “We are, too.”

“You never cease to surprise me, Ryan,” she added.

Ryan grinned. “Thanks.”

Then the last camper crested the hill that led to the pond, and Dana trotted after him.

“You've surprised me a bit, too,” Maribeth said softly.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” he asked, touching his finger to her lower lip. He wanted to kiss her again, but he heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway, so he tenderly traced her lip with his finger, then pulled it away.

“It's a compliment,” she said.

“Then thanks.”

She laughed, and as the car appeared, she took a step away. “I guess I better get ready to start the camp day.”

“One thing first,” he said.