Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (37 page)

She blinked, more tears fell and she bit her lip. “There's nothing to lie about. That's me. You've seen it, and the whole world has seen it. I'm the one who did—” she pointed toward the television in the next room “—all of that. I deserve this.”

“No, you don't, Maribeth. That isn't who you are anymore. I know that, you know that and your friends and family know that, too. And if I'd understood why you wanted to keep yourself out of the public eye, I'd never have mentioned Consigning Women outside of Claremont. I was wrong.”

Her dark eyes were swimming in tears when she looked up and seemed to finally understand what he was saying. “What?”

“Promise to tell me the truth. I have one question, and I want your honest answer, regardless of whether it hurts me.” He paused. “Or you.”

She rubbed the dampness from her cheeks. “Okay.”

He took a deep breath, gathered his courage and asked what he most wanted to know. “Do you love me? Not my business or my status or my assets. But do you love
me?
”

“With every part of me, I love you,” she answered, and Ryan had no doubt that she meant every word. He'd prayed to God to give him the strength to believe her and to see the truth of their relationship. And he did. He saw it clearly now. She loved him, and she hadn't wanted to hurt him by allowing him to know the truth of her past. But she would've told him; Ryan knew that now. When she was ready, she would've told him.

“Maribeth,” he said, “I don't know if you can, but I've been praying the whole way here that you will forgive me.”

“Forgive you? It isn't your fault. I'm the one that did all of that,” she said.

“You asked me not to expand your business. You didn't want attention brought to you, and I ignored your request. I now see how wrong I was, and I want you to forgive me.”

“I do,” she said.

Relief flooded through him as he took a small step into her tiny kitchen. He'd never been on this side of the consignment store, the back portion that served as her kitchen and living room, with a circular wrought iron staircase that presumably led to her upstairs rooms. Like the consignment shop, this area had style. The room decorated in reds and golds was classically fashionable, like the woman standing merely a foot away.

But she didn't look fashionable now, in her worn pajamas, pitiful slippers and uncombed hair. On the contrary, she looked...lovable. And he loved her, so much that when she was hurting, he hurt. Especially because he knew he'd caused her this pain.

“Let me hold you,” he said, and to his dismay, she shook her head.

“No, Ryan.”

“Because I caused all of this?” he asked, thinking he'd do anything to go back one day and never mention Consigning Women to the board or to the reporters.

“No, because you'll hold me, and I'll fall. Hard. The way I did back then. I love you. I've told you that, and I meant it. But being with you would put me right back where I was before. I've tried so hard to make it on my own, to be my own person, not Jaxson Gregory's ex-girlfriend, not the inspiration for ‘Sweet Marie.' I want to be Maribeth Walton, the girl who loves God and loves clothes and loves Claremont. That's all I want to be.”

“Can I show you something?” he asked.

She looked confused, as though he couldn't possibly have a reason to keep talking to her, but he did, and it was an important one. “Show me what?” she asked.

“Come here.” He took her hand and was thankful that she didn't pull away, but allowed him to lead her toward the next room, her cozy living area, where the television sat in the center.

“I do not want to watch it again,” she said, shaking her head.

He found the remote and turned the channel to CNN. “Just one more broadcast,” he said.

“No, Ryan,” she whispered, but then she sucked in her breath when the image on the screen...was Ryan.

He increased the volume and allowed her to hear.

“So what you're saying is you had no idea that Maribeth Walton was Jaxson Gregory's inspiration for his famed song when you met her, learned about her business and decided to invest in her business.”

“I didn't, and I didn't need to know anything about it. That isn't who she is now,” Ryan said, and when the journalist looked skeptical, Ryan's voice took on an assertive tone. “I'm sure if we all looked back seven years, or maybe twenty-seven years in your case, John, we'd all find something we'd rather not have replayed for public consumption.”

The man smiled. “Agreed, but this isn't something most people have buried in their closet, wouldn't you agree?”

“No, some have things much worse,” Ryan said, his tone almost...a warning.

The interviewer looked a little uncomfortable and shifted gears. “And it's coincidental that her business plans to donate a portion of profits to this—” he glanced at his reference sheet “—Women's Lighthouse ministry, which happens to assist victims of human trafficking and attempt to prevent the industry from growing in Thailand, the country where we learned this morning that Brooks International actually owns a resort that had been a front for that very industry.”

“No, it isn't a coincidence. Maribeth had already started donating a portion of her profits from her original store to the organization. She was so convinced by their ministry that she wanted to support them as much as she could. With Brooks International assisting her in taking her business to the next level, she'll be able to take her donations to the next level, as well.”

“Okay, Mr. Brooks, I can see you've got an answer for all of my questions. I have just one more for you.”

“Fine. Go ahead,” Ryan said.

Ryan squeezed Maribeth's hand. “In case you're wondering, I requested this question to be asked, and to get the interview, they granted the request.”

Maribeth's eyes widened, and she stared at the small screen.

“This one is a little more...personal, but I suspect our viewing audience is eager to know the answer. How would you describe your relationship with Marie—excuse me, Maribeth Walton?” he asked, smiling.

* * *

Maribeth held her breath. “What are you going to say?” she whispered.

“Watch and see,” he said simply, his words near her left ear sending a trickle of goose bumps down her arm.

“My relationship with Maribeth Walton,” he said on the screen, “begins with my respect for her as a person. She's intriguing and fascinating. She has a stronger faith than anyone I've ever met, and I believe that faith was developed after she went through the difficult time and the ridicule that you've so flagrantly displayed today. She moved away from her home, started her life over and built a profitable business using an ingenious concept that was all her own.”

“That's all well and good,” the man said, “but it still doesn't tell me what I asked. What is your personal relationship to Maribeth Walton?”

“I love her, and nothing you or any other journalist has attempted to say about her today or show about her today will ever change that.”

Applause sounded from the television as Ryan shook the man's hand and they concluded the interview.

Maribeth turned toward the man she'd totally fallen in love with. “You love me?”

“With every part of my being,” he said, and then added, “I had to postpone the interview twice this afternoon because I couldn't wrap my head around it all. I was angry, and I thought I'd been fooled again, that you'd played me the way Nannette had.”

“But I'd never—” she started, and again, he put a finger to her soft lips and smiled.

“I know. And I believe you. I trust you, Maribeth, and I always will.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “And after that interview, I spent some time with God.”

“You did?”

Ryan nodded. “I needed to get things right with Him, so I could get things right with you. I love you. I want a relationship with you, starting now and lasting forever.”

“But you're in Chicago, and I'm here,” she whispered as he pulled her close and kissed her.

“And we'll work that out,” he said.

The applause from the television continued and continued and continued, but at some point, Ryan had turned off the TV.

“Oh, right,” he said, grinning. “There's something else you need to see.” He took her hand and led her through the living area and into the front of the store, where the applause grew louder.

Maribeth neared the windows displaying her newest ensembles and soon saw the source of the noise. Ryan opened the door and Maribeth glanced down. “Oh, Ryan, they can't see me like this.”

“They'll see you the same way I do. Maribeth Walton. The friend they adore, and the woman I love.”

He gently tugged her outside, where it appeared the entire town had gathered...and were clapping. They were applauding her past mistakes? Surely not. But then she noticed Nadia and Jasmine on the shoulders of Casey Cutter, Nadia's boyfriend, who must've come home from college today, and Cory Shields. A sign stretched between the girls read, Congratulations on Your Growing Business! And in smaller letters beneath, Claremont Loves You!

Her tears were instant. “Oh, my,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. She scanned the crowd and saw all of the store owners from the square, Brother Henry and Mary, John and Dana, Landon and Georgiana and Abi, and what appeared to be the entire congregation from the Claremont Community Church. And then, to the side, she saw them: her family. “Dad? Mom?”

Her father, mother and both sisters were crying and smiling. “Ryan called us,” her dad said, “and we got in the car and headed this way. We're proud of you, honey. You've come so far, and it looks like you're not done yet. We're excited about your business expanding, and we want you to know we support you a hundred percent.”

“I—” she struggled to make her throat work “—I don't know what to say.”

“Well, I know what I'd like to say.” Ryan faced the crowd and announced, “We're glad you've all been so supportive of the first Consigning Women store, and we hope that you'll visit each and every store when it opens, because we've got big plans in mind, and we're going to make a difference together.” He looked to Maribeth. “If that's what you want, of course. We'll grow our business...as we grow our love.”

Maribeth's heart swelled. Growing her business and growing their love. “That's exactly what I want.”

Epilogue

R
yan had never really visualized himself getting married. A year ago, he'd probably have said it'd never happen, and he'd probably have added a few choice words to the promise. But he'd stopped using those words now. And he'd stopped making promises he couldn't keep. Because he'd met a woman who, quite simply, had changed his life. She'd given him faith and opened his eyes and heart to love.

He took in his surroundings and grinned. Yeah, if he'd ever pictured his wedding, it wouldn't have been anything like this, with the entire tiny town of Claremont sitting on quilt-covered hay bales and waiting to see the woman who'd stolen his heart marry him at the entrance to a big red barn. He nearly laughed at his Chicago group attempting to look all Western. They were wearing the clothes Maribeth had helped them select, but they still looked as out of place as Ryan had when he first came to visit his sister. Not anymore. He blended in here, felt at home here, which was good, since he and Maribeth had decided to split their time between Claremont and Chicago. He'd bought them a lovely antebellum home about a block from the square in Claremont, and they'd have his apartment in Chicago. Until kids came, and then he'd get something with more room.

Kids. The thought of having a little girl who looked like Maribeth made him happy. He couldn't wait. Thankfully, she'd said she was eager to get started, too. Dana's baby boy, Holden, was seven months old now. If he and Maribeth had a baby in, say, a year, the cousins would be close. Worked for him.

And speaking of working for him, his entire board filled the second and third rows. Well, most of the board. Oliver James stood beside Ryan as best man. He'd made a full recovery, and Ryan thanked God every day for healing his friend. John and Landon were his other two groomsmen.

Ryan scanned John and Dana's log cabin, where he knew his bride waited to make her appearance. He was so eager to start their lives together, so blessed by everything God had given him. And he felt blessed by everything his father had given him, too. Because Lawrence Brooks had taught him plenty, about hard work and building a business from the ground up and about what it took to bring your business to the top. But something else his father had taught him, even if it had taken Ryan a few years to figure it out, was that nothing was done on your own. Everyone needed help. Everyone needed God. He believed Dana now, that their father had found faith before he died, and Ryan was extremely glad for that.

Cory Shields and Casey Cutter helped usher folks to their seats—or rather, their bales. And after Cory seated Chad and Jessica Martin, he waved Casey on to go get the next couple, and he moved to the front to speak to the groom.

“Mr. Brooks,” he said, attempting to whisper but loud enough that Oliver, John and Landon undoubtedly heard. “Thank you for the tuition money. I'm starting back to college in the fall thanks to you, and I'll do what you say. I'll call you the minute I graduate with a transcript full of As and ready for a job.”

“I have no doubt you will,” Ryan said.

Oliver tapped Ryan's shoulder. “You're doing good now,” he said.

Ryan saw the cabin door open and his beautiful bride step out on the arm of her father. “I know, Oliver,” Ryan said. “I know.”

The crowd stood as Maribeth made her way to the lamplit barn. Ryan had admired many of Maribeth's ensembles over the past few months as they planned their business and the wedding, but the simple lace dress that she wore now outdid them all. Her shoulders were bare, her hair held back by a pearl-embellished veil. The lace brushed the ground as she walked and somehow gave the impression that she was floating...to him.

“Who gives this woman to marry this man?” Brother Henry asked.

“Her mother and I.” Maribeth's father kissed her cheek, shook Ryan's hand and then placed Maribeth's hand in Ryan's. “Take good care of her, son,” he said.

“Yes, sir. I will.”

Ryan glanced at her dress. “Jennifer Aniston?” he whispered.

She giggled. “Guess again.”

Brother Henry smirked, but stopped his initial dialogue about marriage to let them finish.

“Scarlet Johansson.”

“Wrong.”

Her bridesmaids—her sisters, Ava and Deidre, and Dana—all covered their mouths to keep from laughing out loud. The groomsmen chuckled without care.

“Excuse me, but I believe we have people counting on a wedding here,” Brother Henry said, and this time, the entire crowd laughed.

“Okay,” Ryan conceded, “who is it?”

“It's Maribeth Walton,” his stunning bride said. “This one is only for me...and only for you.”

“Perfect.”

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from THE DEPUTY'S NEW FAMILY by Jenna Mindel.