Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (36 page)

Chapter Twelve

M
aribeth had spent the majority of the day on the highest part of Lookout Mountain, where, naturally, she had no cell service whatsoever. Thursday's schedule called for the campers to take on the longest and most elevated trail on the mountain, and it lasted the entire day. She'd prayed for Ryan continually and that whatever he faced in Chicago wouldn't be too difficult. She also prayed for his friend Oliver and hoped to hear good news from Ryan about his recovery.

When he left last night, he'd promised he'd call today and that he'd come back to Claremont as soon as he could. He said he'd miss her, and she believed him.

But he'd also said he couldn't live here, so any return would be temporary. That truth had haunted her throughout the day, and she'd had to concentrate to keep her mind focused on the camp, on leading the Bible studies and on guiding the teens through the trails.

But the entire time, she kept asking herself the same questions. If she loved Ryan—and she believed she did—would she be willing to move to Chicago to be with him? Could she handle living in a large city? And what would happen to Consigning Women? If she allowed Ryan to make it bigger, as he said, then wouldn't that draw more attention to her, and wouldn't her past come out? Who was she kidding? If she and Ryan were to start dating, the media would dig up her past and reveal that she was
that
girl from seven years ago.

And regarding that, when should she tell Ryan about her famous ex?

So many questions. So few answers.

By the time she returned to the barn at the end of the camp day, it was nearly four-thirty in the afternoon. She'd left her phone in the barn because she'd known it would be useless where they traveled today, and she quickly grabbed it to see if Ryan had called. He had, three times. And he'd sent a text, too.

I need to explain. Call me ASAP. I miss you.

She smiled, those last three words settling on her heart. He missed her. This would all work out somehow. She started to dial but stopped when Dana entered the barn.

“Maribeth,” she said, “I'm so sorry. I know you told him not to do it, and I'm not sure why he did. I've been texting him and calling, but he won't answer my calls and only texted that he needs to talk to you first.”

The first words of Ryan's text were suddenly the ones that stood out:
I need to explain.
“What did he do?”

“He announced that Brooks International had plans to fund a chain of consignment stores, Consigning Women, that would focus on providing celebrityworthy outfits to the public for a consignment price. Your concept, your store. He's taking your idea and profiting from it, and—” she shook her head “—that's like something Daddy would have done, back when he was so shrewd and calculating in business. I never thought Ryan would do anything like that, and I sure didn't think he'd do that to you.”

Maribeth felt as though she'd been punched in the stomach. She sat on a nearby hay bale and wondered what had happened since last night. “Did he mention my name?” she asked.

“Yes, he gave you the credit for the concept, but still...he didn't have your permission, did he?”

“No,” she whispered and then rubbed her temples with her fingers. Would people associate her with the nickname from way back then?

Dana sat beside her and enveloped her in her arms. “I'm so sorry.”

“I worked so hard to just be...me.” She shook her head. “Now it's going to start all over again.”

“What?” Dana asked.

“You'll see.” Maribeth's phone rang. She knew before looking that Ryan was on the other end. She answered, “Why?”

Dana mouthed,
I'm sorry,
then stood and walked out of the barn.

“Maribeth, I didn't want to hurt you. I just need to explain.”

She took a deep breath, let it out. “Okay, explain.”

“If you haven't seen or heard the news yet, we learned today that one of our resorts in Thailand has been used as a front for human trafficking.”

“Wh-what?”

“It's true, and that's what Oliver James found out yesterday afternoon, just before his heart attack.”

“Oh, Ryan,” she said, suddenly forgetting her own troubles in light of his.

“And because of my donation to Nadia's charity, the media believed we knew about what was happening at the property and then gave the contribution as a sign of a guilty conscience.”

“But...that's not true.”

“I know, but they didn't. And that's why our board convened this morning to determine a way to salvage the reputation of Brooks International in the public eye when all of the news hit, which happened a few hours ago.”

Her mind reeled from taking it all in, but she still didn't understand. “What does this have to do with you expanding Consigning Women? I didn't give you permission to do that.”

“You said you'd think about it, so I thought—”

“I didn't give you permission,” she interrupted. “I didn't.” Yes, she'd been thinking about it, and even considering the possibility, but she'd been so afraid of what might come out—what would come out soon, if it hadn't already.

“Maribeth, the reason I told them about Consigning Women is because it's such a positive concept, providing something nice for those who typically wouldn't be able to afford it. And I also announced that a portion of every sale's profit will be donated to charity, specifically the Women's Lighthouse.”

She liked that idea, really. But she wasn't ready to be thrust in the limelight again, and she had a feeling with his announcement she'd be put there, front and center. And she'd done such a good job of hiding in Claremont. “I didn't want you to do it,” she said simply, not wanting to explain why. Last night she'd almost told him about her past. If she had, would he have done this?

But she didn't have to worry about telling him now. He'd find out soon enough anyway. The media would probably have a field day at her expense again.

“We can do this together,” he said. “I want to be with you, Maribeth, and this business will be a way to make that happen.”

So he wanted to be with her in business. What about in life? And in love? And what about the fact that he'd given her idea to the world? “Ryan, I can't trust you anymore.” She disconnected, powered down her phone and walked to her car.

Chapter Thirteen

“I
've been trying to reach her all afternoon, Dana. She won't take my calls,” Ryan said Friday evening. “I've got to tell you, I wouldn't have done it if I'd realized how much it would upset her. I honestly thought she'd see the good that could be done from expanding her business. Wednesday night, before I left, she was about to tell me something. The more I thought about it, the more I believed she was going to tell me we could do this together, expand Consigning Women and work together to help others in a big way.”

“She never told you to do it,” Dana said. “And you have no way of knowing whether she would've told you that on Wednesday or not. You shouldn't have guessed about something so important, Ryan.”

“Dana, the media jumped on coverage of this human trafficking ring so quickly that we didn't have a lot of time to determine a combative strategy for the firestorm. Announcing the positive aspect of Maribeth's idea not only helped Brooks International with the situation now but also allowed for the ability to help so many more people and raise awareness for Nadia's ministry. This is so much more than writing a check. The board members conferred and decided that we needed to do something more permanent, something that didn't appear as though we were merely trying to fix the problem with cash. And think of the publicity this is already garnering for Maribeth's upcoming stores. She's said she wanted to make a name for herself, and she's also said she was considering going bigger.” He shifted the phone to his other ear while he watched yet another news broadcast about Brooks International.

“Considering isn't the same thing as authorizing,” Dana said. “I honestly believe she doesn't want any more stores.”

“But this is such a positive thing, the ability to make a difference the way she wanted, donating a portion of profits to the Women's Lighthouse.”

“For some reason, Maribeth doesn't see it that way,” Dana said. “She was so distraught at the camp today that she had to leave early.”

Ryan hated that he'd upset Maribeth, and all he wanted to do was go back to Claremont and hold her, but he'd agreed to an interview on CNN for their broadcast tonight, so he'd had to head to Atlanta first. “I've got the CNN interview, but then I'm coming to see Maribeth and work this out.” If she was so against the store expansion that it would cost him their relationship—which had barely even gotten started—then he'd do away with the idea. She was more important, and he'd just donate to the Women's Lighthouse on his own and let the media accuse him of trying to buy his way out of a problem.

But Ryan couldn't help but wonder what was holding her back. Maribeth was the type of person who cared about others and went out of her way to have an impact on their lives. The fact that she volunteered an entire month of her summer to the church camp proved that fact, helping every morning with the kids until she went straight to her store to round out a workday of nearly twelve hours. A person who would do that would want to take every opportunity to help those in need. But she didn't want to take this one. Why?

He sat in the greenroom preparing for his interview and watching a wall filled with current newscasts on the display monitors. One of the screens, which a moment ago had shown the Brooks International headquarters building, switched to a photo of a scantily clad woman climbing up pool steps, her dark hair slicked back and falling over the upper half of her body. And apparently that was all that was covering her beautiful flesh.

Maribeth.

“Dana, I've got to go,” he said, and disconnected.

Ryan's heart clenched in his chest. The monitors were set to closed caption, and he scanned the details displayed across the bottom of the screen.

And in another bizarre twist of news involving Brooks International and CEO Ryan Brooks, we've learned that the woman behind the Consigning Women idea is none other than the girl the world met seven years ago as Sweet Marie, a nickname given to her by her boyfriend at the time, Jaxson Gregory. Now the attractive lady has snagged another rich man's attention.

Ryan gripped the chair and continued reading, every word hitting him like a sucker punch to the gut.

No stranger to gorgeous females, the Brooks CEO previously dated Nannette Kelly Sharp, now the wife of Yankees third baseman Alex Sharp.
A photo of Ryan and Nannette filled the left side of the screen, while a photo of Maribeth and Jaxson Gregory filled the right.

Anger rippled through Ryan, so much so that his vision blurred, and he could no longer make out the words crossing the screen.

Maribeth had dated Jaxson Gregory? He'd told her about Nannette. Why hadn't she told him about Jaxson?

And the broadcast missed the boat on one huge detail. Maribeth had done more than snag Ryan's attention over the past few weeks.

She had his heart.

And right now, his heart pounded so violently that his pulse hammered in both ears.

More photos of a scantily clad Maribeth covered the screen. Ryan turned off the monitor. He didn't need to see the screen to know that he'd been fooled again.

Chapter Fourteen

M
erely two hours after he'd completed the interview at CNN, Ryan stood at the entrance of John and Dana's barn. He'd wasted no time leaving the CNN Center, and Ned had his plane ready to go as soon as Ryan reached the tarmac and a car waiting for him when they landed in Stockville. Everything was set for him to see Maribeth and tell her what he'd decided during that interview.

But Ryan wasn't ready to see her yet. He had to make sure he meant the words he'd said, and he knew who could help him decipher the truth behind the pain cloaking his heart.

He entered the tack room, grabbed a green apple and then took the treat to the other end of the barn and whistled toward the massive animal that set this entire thing in motion when he'd tossed Ryan to the ground.

Onyx exhaled through his nose, widened his eyes and arrogantly swished his tail.

“I need to go somewhere, and I want you to take me,” Ryan said. “And in case you're wondering, I won't take no for an answer.”

The stallion's head lowered, and he huffed out another breath. Then he slowly walked toward Ryan.

Ryan held his palm steady as Onyx grew closer, until his velvety lips found the treat and snatched the apple from Ryan's hand.

Cautiously, Ryan saddled the horse, while Onyx tossed him an occasional irritated stare. But he allowed Ryan to get him ready, and when Ryan hissed at the pain of mounting the horse with his injured leg, Onyx stopped moving completely, as though trying to help his rider out.

“I appreciate that, buddy,” Ryan said, running his hand down the stallion's powerfully muscled neck. “Now, take me where I need to go.” He tapped his good leg against the horse's side and Onyx surged forward without hesitation.

Minutes later, Ryan found himself at the base of Jasper Falls, the exact place he'd first kissed Maribeth...and the first time he'd thought he felt a hint of God in his world. “Whoa,” he said to Onyx, and the horse stopped and waited.

While Ryan closed his eyes and prayed.

“God, I have no doubt You've been behind this whole thing. The accident that caused me to connect with Maribeth. Her business idea that kept me in Claremont. Even the church and the town that I've gained a fondness for—and a respect for—over the past few weeks. You know what I feel for Maribeth, and You know how much all of this stuff is killing me inside. The Jaxson Gregory mess. Those pictures.” His throat clenched at the memory of the photographs that marred Maribeth's beauty, made her something for guys to lust after rather than treasure.

“God, You know how angry I was at her for not telling me about him, about why she didn't want to share her idea. But now I realize...that I brought her biggest fear to light. And then
I
was mad at
her.
Those photos might never have resurfaced if it wasn't for me, Lord.” The truth of that statement stabbed his heart. He had no doubt that when they'd gotten interrupted by Dana's call about Oliver on Wednesday, she'd been close to telling him the truth.

“She would have told me, wouldn't she, God? I just didn't wait. I didn't give her a chance. And because of that, her fear is a reality.” The memory of those pictures flared, and he pushed it away. “Forgive me, God, for not asking for Your guidance sooner. Maybe I wouldn't be in this mess if I had. And Lord, if it be Your will, help Maribeth forgive me, too.”

He opened his eyes and felt the dampness of tears on both cheeks. Ryan couldn't remember the last time he cried, if ever. Lawrence Brooks saw tears as a sign of weakness, and Ryan had always agreed. Until now. Now he wiped them away knowing that they weren't a sign of weakness, but of strength. The strength to realize that he'd made a mistake and that he needed God to help him make things right.

When he returned to the barn, he found Dana waiting.

“I can't believe you rode him again,” she said, walking up to meet them near the stalls. “We got home as you were riding away from the barn. I figured if you didn't return in an hour, we'd go see where Onyx dropped you this time.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Ryan climbed out of the saddle and fought a wince when his left leg hit the ground.

“Ryan,” she said, then frowned.

“Yeah?”

She glanced up toward the loft, blinked a couple of times and then said, “I'll help you with Onyx.”

He knew that wasn't what she wanted to say, but he'd give her a moment to get her thoughts together before they talked about what was obviously on both of their minds. Maribeth.

Within minutes, they'd removed the saddle, blanket and bridle and then started brushing the horse down. Onyx remained still for the entire process, a different animal entirely than the wild stallion Ryan had encountered merely a few weeks ago. But then again, Ryan had changed plenty, too.

Dana brushed Onyx, but occasionally stopped to peer at Ryan's face. Finally, she asked, “Have you been crying?” Her voice was filled with a hint of concern...and a whole lot of shock.

“And praying,” he said.

To his surprise, she didn't smile, but instead moved a hand to her mouth and allowed a few tears of her own to slip free. “Oh, Ryan.”

“I hurt her,” he said. “And I need to fix that. I just had to fix things with God first.”

Dana nodded. “Well, it sounds like you've got your priorities in the right order. So what exactly are you going to do?”

“You'll see,” he said. In fact, the whole world would see in about an hour. And, if God answered Ryan's prayer with a yes, Maribeth Walton would not only see, but believe.

* * *

As the nine o'clock news aired, Maribeth watched the television in horror as photo after photo of her posing provocatively filled the screen. The entertainment news programs had been showing them repeatedly for the past several hours, beginning with
OK! TV,
then
Inside Edition
and
Extra.
And now, she was the lead story on
Entertainment Tonight.

“These pictures are just for me,” he'd said. “No one else, I promise.” And she'd believed him then, just as she'd believed him every other time. She wondered if Ryan was watching this now, or her family, or her friends—her church—in Claremont.

She didn't know how she'd start over again.

Tears falling, she turned up the volume to see how the media would spin it this time and caught the last two words of the current sentence.

“...Sweet Marie.”

Maribeth's body trembled uncontrollably. She hated that name. Hated it.

“You may recall Jaxson Gregory, now one of Hollywood's most prominent leading men, started his career in music, but never had nearly the success in that field as he's had on the silver screen. However, he did have his one-hit wonder, the song that will never die and propelled him to the top of the music charts, as well as to the eyes of every Hollywood producer. ‘Sweet Marie.' The shocking lyrics and accompanying photos that the man distributed of the ‘innocent young thing he met at the beach' were star quality and undeniably sealed his fate as a heartthrob for—let's face it—every female in America. Everyone wanted to be Jaxson Gregory's ‘Sweet Marie,' and while he's had a string of Hollywood beauties at his side ever since, it all began with the girl who wasn't Hollywood at all. But, I think you'd all agree, she has star quality, too.”

Maribeth saw herself blowing a kiss to the camera, and then the newscaster was again on the screen.

“Apparently, Sweet Marie has grown up now. She's twenty-six years old and is going by her given name, Maribeth Walton. She lives in a small north Alabama town and runs a quaint boutique called Consigning Women, which Ryan Brooks happened to visit over the past month. And then, well, it seems Mr. Brooks must have been smitten with Sweet Marie, too, because now he's also trying to make the girl a star by bringing her tiny business to a whole new level and propelling the again unknown beauty back into the spotlight.”

Angry at Ryan's betrayal, Maribeth muted the television.

No. She shook her head. She'd been so angry at him for sharing her idea, had honestly believed she couldn't trust him again. But this had nothing to do with trusting Ryan and everything to do with the fact that she'd been trying to hide the truth of her past. All of this could have been avoided if she'd told him the truth.

More photos, some Maribeth couldn't even recall taking, flashed across the screen like an elaborate scrapbook of her past, except this one didn't hold any memories she wanted to keep.

Her stomach pitched. Everything the news journalist said was true, and she deserved what she got for those horrible mistakes. She'd turned her back on her family, turned her back on God, and unfortunately, the evidence was there for the world to see. For the world to remember.

How would she leave her apartment again? Face all of the sweet, friendly people of Claremont again, when they'd undoubtedly seen the very worst in her?

God, tell me, why is this happening now? Why?

Her phone started ringing. She glanced at the display. Dana. Maribeth had ignored her friend's calls ever since the story first aired. But there was no reason to ignore them anymore. She might as well hear Dana's shock and disappointment now and get it over with.

She answered, “Dana, I'm so sorry. And embarrassed. I know you are ashamed—”

“That's enough.” Dana's harsh tone wasn't what Maribeth expected, and she swiped through the tears that hadn't stopped falling.

“What?”

“I said that's enough. Your pity party is over, and you're going to pick yourself up, realize that God forgave you a long time ago and that that isn't the girl you are now, and you're going to keep living in Claremont with me and with everyone who loves you.”

“I can't—I can't even think about showing my face in town. And Ryan—I can only imagine what he's thinking. I almost told him Wednesday night, but I didn't. And then I was so mad at him for bringing the business into the spotlight, because I knew what would happen, that the sins of my past would come out. But that isn't his fault. It's mine.”

“Maribeth, I want you to do something, and I don't want you to ask me any more questions about it. Just do it.”

“What is it?” she sniffed.

“Promise.”

What else did she have to lose? “Okay. I promise.”

“Go to your back door and let Ryan in.”

“What? Dana?”

The click on the line let her know Dana was gone, and the hard knock from her kitchen let her know...she had a promise to keep. If she could. How in the world could she face him now? And how could she truly trust him again, after he'd ignored her request and shared her idea with the world?

She'd put on old flannel pajamas, even though it was seventy degrees, because they made her feel comfortable. Warm. Protected. Safe. She also had on her favorite worn slippers, the ones shaped like bunnies, the left missing an eye and the right missing a tail. Her hair hadn't been combed, and she'd been pushing it off her face ever since she'd started doubling over in tears. But she didn't stop to change her clothes, didn't dry her eyes, didn't comb her hair. He'd already seen her at her worst. She had no reason to impress him now. He'd never want her again.

“Maribeth, open the door.” He wasn't yelling, but he wasn't speaking calmly, either—he was issuing an order. A few days ago, she'd have come back with a sassy reply and flirted with him while he waited for her to unlock the door. But that was when she felt fun and carefree. That was before he'd betrayed her trust. And before she felt like...damaged goods.

She unlocked the door and opened it.

* * *

Ryan had never wanted to see anyone so badly as he wanted to see Maribeth. Now, looking at her, her eyes swollen and tearstains down both cheeks, he'd never wanted to hold someone so badly, either. But those photos, and more than that, the words of the announcers, that she'd “snagged” another rich boy, kept him standing his ground.

Using every ounce of control he possessed, he said, “I've been thinking about it all afternoon, from when it first came out.” His jaw clenched. “The whole Jaxson Gregory thing.”

Maribeth closed her eyes. “I wish I could forget that name.”

He could tell she was in pain, and he could only imagine what the firestorm that had started earlier today had done to her over the last few hours. He'd felt as if it'd taken a piece of him, and after seeing her now, he realized that it'd been much worse on Maribeth. “I'll admit that when I saw those photos and learned about everything, I was angry.”

“I was angry, too,” she said, “and hurt that you would do that to me, put me back in the spotlight when I'd worked so hard—” she sucked in a breath “—so hard to keep my past from coming back out. But then I realized that you didn't do it. I did.”

The pain in her words, in her eyes, was almost more than he could take, because Ryan knew he'd caused it. “I realize now why you didn't want me sharing your idea, and I also realize that I hurt you.”

Before he could say more, she said, “I shouldn't have done it, let him take those photos or had that kind of relationship with him back then. I was stupid, and I understand why you wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore,” she said, her words shaky and trembling with emotion. “I really—I didn't think I'd see you again, and if you came back to hear me apologize, I will. I'm sorry. I should've told you about—”

He placed a finger against her mouth and shook his head. “No, Maribeth. I don't want to hear an apology. That isn't why I'm here, not at all.” The urge to hold her, to protect her, still burned through him, but he had to get his questions answered first. “I'm here because I have something to ask you, and I want you to promise me that when you answer me, you'll tell me the truth. I
need
to know that you'll tell me the truth, Maribeth.”