Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (14 page)

Hannah thought of what he'd said, still not sure what to think.

“We all live risky lives. Every time we get into our vehicle we take a risk. Even just walking down the street can be a risk.” He paused there a moment, a shadow flickering over his face. But it left so quickly, Hannah wondered if she had imagined it. “Every time we open our hearts, we take a risk. Anyhow, what I'm trying to say is that our lives are always fragile. You know that firsthand and I'm sure that's why you feel you need to be extra cautious with your own children.”

And her own heart, Hannah thought.

“I think you need to realize that God is with you every step of the way in your life,” Ethan continued. “That the comfort He gives you isn't some cozy, comfortable feeling, but it is true comfort. That He is always with us. That no matter what we go through, He is alongside us. You could choose to live a life of safety and guard your heart at all times and save yourself the pain of losing someone. You'd spend the rest of your life alone. Or you could take a risk and let someone into your life and know that your life will be the richer for it.”

Hannah weighed his words, still uncertain. She had so hoped that talking to Ethan would help her make a decision. Instead, she felt more confused than before.

“Just listen to your heart,” Ethan said. “I know it sounds corny, but I think there's merit in paying attention to your emotions, as well. But now, enough advice from me,” Ethan said, slapping his hands on his thighs as he stood and looked over the table scattered with foodstuffs. “Why don't you tell me what we need to do next.”

* * *

“Ah, memories,” Brody said as he inhaled a deep whiff of air laced with deep frying and food cooking. All around them they heard squeals and laughter, punctuated by the tinny music of the carousel and the other two rides on the midway. He pushed the twins' stroller over the uneven grass of the fairgrounds. He was walking alongside Hannah, who was inspecting the booths, her clipboard clasped in one hand, cell phone in the other.

Though the fair wasn't officially open until tomorrow, the midway had opened up at four o'clock this afternoon. This made setting up more difficult for those exhibitors who were putting finishing touches on their displays, but at the same time it created an expectant energy for tomorrow, when the fair would go all day. He and Dylan had finished work on their booth this afternoon, and a couple of the other guys were there now, stocking up on plastic fireman hats, coloring books, crayons and other freebies the kids might need. Tomorrow he would take turns with the other volunteers to man the booth and show kids the truck.

He just hoped they didn't get a call again. For some reason, there had been a spate of vandalism lately and he wished that Deputy Calloway would get to the bottom of it.

“You know, some of my favorite memories are of eating corn dogs and finishing that off with funnel cakes,” Brody said, giving the stroller another push over yet another bump. “I should get you one of each.” He turned to Hannah, who walked slowly alongside him, staring at her phone. “Uh-oh. You've got your town-hall-secretary face on,” he said.

Hannah's frown deepened as she looked at him, then she laughed. “I'm sorry. I just got a message from Abigail that she and Chauncey Hardman just moved all the baskets from her house to a shed. I need to call her about that.”

She tapped out a number on her phone and then stopped, phone pressed to one ear, her hand to the other, clipboard clamped under her arm. “So where did you move them?” Brody heard her ask. “Are you sure it can be locked? Can someone keep an eye on them, because I'm just not comfortable with the baskets being there.” From the sound of her voice and the way she was biting at her lip, Brody could see she wasn't happy with this particular turn of events. “I wish you would have run this past me,” she said. “But I guess it's too late to change all that now.” She nodded as she listened some more, then said goodbye. When she was done, her eyes were snapping with a frustration that surprised Brody. Other than the afternoon when she'd found him with Corey on the back of the horse, she was usually calm and self-possessed.

“That Abigail. Honestly,” she huffed as she clutched her phone. “I don't know why she didn't run this by me.”

“So why did she move the baskets?”

“She had been storing them at her place and got tired of them being there, so without letting me know, she moved the baskets to one of the sheds in that clump of buildings on the edge of the fairgrounds.”

“The old Shoemaker homestead?”

“Yes.”

“One of those buildings does have a door that locks, as far as I can remember. Mr. Shoemaker's old toolshed apparently. They should be okay there.”

Hannah sighed and massaged her forehead. “I hope so.”

“I doubt that baskets with books, bath beads and baby stuff will have much value to a thief,” Brody said, taking a chance to steal a quick kiss.

Hannah chuckled as she straightened. “I guess you're right. And the rest of the baskets will be coming tomorrow.”

“Is your basket in there?” Brody asked, trying to sound all casual.

“Probably. Pastor Ethan said he would drop it off at Abigail's.” Then she stopped, pressing her fingers to her mouth as if to catch back the words she had just said. “You weren't supposed to know that.”

“So I just need to know what kind of basket Pastor Ethan brought and I should be good to go,” Brody said, stroking his chin, pretending to plot. “Though I could end up with Ethan's basket if I don't play my cards right.”

“And whoever might want to bid on Pastor Ethan's might end up with mine.” Hannah put her hand on Brody's arm. “But seriously, you can't tell anyone that he's making a basket. He wanted it to be a secret. He just wants people to know that it was made by a man.”

Brody waved his hand in front of his face. “Lips. Sealed.”

She laughed, which made Brody smile, which created that curious feeling of well-being that had been sifting into his life more often. And especially when he was around Hannah.

Corey burbled his pleasure at the sights and sounds of the carousel turning beside them, red, blue and yellow horses bobbing and cars sliding by, all accompanied by the ubiquitous bouncy organ music that made him smile.

Chrissy joined in, reaching her chubby arms out as if asking if she could go on.

Brody looked from the carousel to the kids, then to Hannah. “What do you think? Would they be okay to ride if we stood beside them?”

Hannah hesitated, then glanced at her phone.

Brody sighed, then gently pried the phone from her hand and dropped it in his shirt pocket. “You are now officially off duty. It's five-thirty and your kids need to have their first ride on a carousel.”

“But—”

Brody placed a finger on her lips. “Let's go. They'll love it.”

Hannah sighed, as if releasing the work of the day, then nodded. “That would be wonderful.”

A few minutes later, they stood beside each other, Chrissy supported by Hannah as she sat on one red, white and blue horse, Brody beside her holding Corey perched on a flame-red horse with gold sparkles. The twins rocked back and forth, clinging to the single poles holding up the horses.

“I think they want to get going,” Brody said, steadying Corey as he leaned too far forward, his hand slipping on the pole.

“They sure are excited.” Hannah grinned at Brody and then lurched as the carousel started going, the music playing louder as it gained speed. The horses bobbed, the music sang, and as they circled, Brody kept his hands on Corey, but his eyes stayed on Hannah, standing right beside him.

She was laughing, looking as carefree as her kids. She glanced over at him and her smile shifted. Grew deeper. Softer.

“Thanks so much for this,” she said quietly. Then, still supporting Chrissy, she leaned forward, caught him by the neck with one hand and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Why, Hannah Douglas, stealing kisses on the carousel,” Brody said with mock seriousness. “You are a forward miss.”

“I'm learning,” she said with a lift of one eyebrow. Then to her surprise, he returned her kiss with one of his own.

“Brody. Brody,” Corey babbled, leaning toward Brody.

Hannah pulled back, her startled gaze darting from her son to Brody.

“Did he just say what I thought he said?” Brody asked.

“I think he did,” Hannah said, laughing, albeit a bit nervously. Did she have a problem with this?

“Brody. Brody,” Corey repeated clearly, leaving them with no doubt at all.

“That's...amazing?” Brody looked at Hannah with a measure of confusion. Was this right? That this little boy was saying his name? At the same time, he felt a twist in his soul. It felt right.

“Are you okay?” Hannah asked.

Brody laughed, then kissed Hannah again. “I'm more than okay. Are you?”

“I'm great,” she said.

Then Chrissy laughed, slapping the pole, and Hannah joined her. And as they spun around and around, the four of them together, Brody knew this moment, with this woman and these children, was what he wanted for the rest of his life.

He hooked one arm around Hannah, holding her close, his other arm around Corey. He wanted to tell her now, but knew this wasn't the time or place.

Soon, though, he promised himself. Soon he would let her know how he felt and hope and pray she felt the same.

Chapter Ten

“I
've got to get these kids back home and to bed,” Hannah said as she caught Chrissy rubbing tired eyes with a sticky hand. Corey scratched at his ears and then yawned. They were both back in their stroller and Hannah and Brody were sitting on a couple of folding chairs by the fireman's booth.

Though the midway would be here tomorrow night yet, Brody had insisted on giving the twins the full fair experience tonight, reminding her that tomorrow she would be busy with the auction and myriad other things.

So she gave in and let herself enjoy the fun of having Brody win her and the twins some cheap stuffed animals, buy them way too many mini doughnuts and corn dogs and share an oversize bag of neon-pink cotton candy.

Half of which was now spread over Chrissy's and Corey's faces.

“I'll come with you,” Brody said.

“That would be nice.” She tried not to sound coy, but felt a flush of pleasure at his offer.

They got up and walked across the bumpy ground and back to the parking lot, navigating their way through crowds of laughing people, acknowledging some waves and hellos.

Julie and Faith were laughing at Cord and Ryan, who were trying to shoot down some bottles at one booth. Hannah could see Robin Frazier wandering around, looking bemused as she took in the busyness. Rusty Zidek had come for a while, but Hannah couldn't find him, though his camo Mule was still parked at the edge of the fairgrounds.

She had hoped to corral Abigail Rose, but she hadn't seen her tonight. She was still upset that the woman had moved the baskets without asking for her input, but on the other hand, it wasn't Hannah's apartment that was getting taken over by the things.

“You look worried,” Brody said, slipping his arm over her shoulders again.

He did that with such ease, such a sense of familiarity, that Hannah felt a deep settling in her soul.

“I was thinking about those baskets. Silly, I realize, but I know how much work some people put into them and I'd hate to see anything happen to them.”

“I'm sure they'll be okay.”

“If someone is willing to steal the time capsule, who knows what else they might be tempted to steal?” Hannah said, feeling a sudden flicker of premonition.

“I still think there is more to this time capsule than simply theft. I wonder if someone doesn't have something to hide.”

“If that was the case, then why didn't it get unearthed sooner?”

“My job is simply to speculate about the issue. Not resolve it,” Brody said with a laugh. “So, where did you park?”

Hannah looked around, momentarily disoriented in the gathering dusk. Finally she saw her vehicle. A few minutes later, they had the kids stowed in the car and were on their way, Hannah driving.

Brody was tapping his fingers on the dash of her car, looking suddenly solemn.

“What's on your mind?” she asked, giving him a poke to get his attention.

He pulled himself away from wherever he had been and grinned at her. “Nothing.”

“Guys always say that,” she grumped as she drove into the parking lot behind the hardware store and turned off her car. “But I don't believe that.”

“Well, it's true,” he said, getting out and opening the back door. “You know there's a ton of boxes in a guy's mind. Work box. Friend box. Food box. And then there's the nothing box. When I'm working, I've got the work box open. When I'm eating, the food box. And once in a while, I like to go to the nothing box and just look at it and think about...nothing. Don't you have a nothing box?”

Hannah laughed again as she unbuckled Chrissy. “I might. Who knows? I have not had the luxury of spending any time there if I did. Kids, work, food and sleep have been my main priorities for the past year and a bit.” She realized that had the potential of sounding whiny. “Not that I mind, you realize,” she hastened to add.

“I know you don't mind,” he said quietly. “I know you love your kids. Anyone can clearly see that. Even when they're as grubby as they are.”

“Thanks to you,” she returned as she dug her keys out of her diaper bag.

“Hey. You're never too young to get sick on food from the fair.”

Hannah laughed again, surprised at how at ease she felt. Though she had a million things to do and organize yet, this moment of time she had spent with Brody and her kids had created in her a sense of possibility.

For the first time since David's death, she felt expectation and, as she watched Brody, walking ahead of her up the stairs leading to the back door of her apartment, a sense of attachment that was much, much stronger than friendship.

“So, bath first?” Brody asked as they stepped inside the apartment and he flicked on the lights.

“For sure.” Hannah tossed her keys on the table just inside the door.

“You get their pj's. I'll start running the bath.”

Hannah was about to protest, but a look from Brody stopped that. “Okay. I'll do that,” she agreed.

Twenty minutes and four gallons of splashed water later, Hannah was toweling Corey off while Brody was wrestling with a squirming Chrissy, trying to get her arms stuffed into her sleeper.

“Are you sure this thing is the right size?” he asked as he tried once again.

“It might be a bit small,” Hannah admitted sheepishly. “They've grown a bunch the past couple of months, but I haven't had time to get them new clothes. And Middleton's doesn't carry baby clothes, so I have to wait until I get to Bozeman again.” She stopped there, realizing that she was sounding too apologetic.

“I've got to go to Bozeman for tack next Saturday. We can pick up some stuff then.”

He said it so casually, as if it was an automatic assumption that she would come along with him.

She tested that thought a moment, stealing a quick glance at Brody, who was finally zipping up the sleeper, looking proud of his accomplishment.

Was that where they were headed?

Did she dare go there? Was she ready? Could she do this?

At that moment, he looked over at her and she felt as though she was back on the carousel, turning and spinning, but having Brody beside her centered her. Made her feel as if she was in a solid place.

Tell him,
a small voice urged.
Let him know how you feel.

Did she dare? Because she knew once she let herself go down this path, there would be no turning back.

Ethan's advice came back to her.

You could choose to live a life of safety and guard your heart... Or you could take a risk and let someone into your life...

She took a breath, sent up a prayer for strength and courage and was about to speak, when Brody's phone rang. It sounded like a fire alarm.

He jumped to his feet, yanked it out of his pocket and immediately answered the call. His voice was brisk. Staccato. No nonsense. Then he hung up and shot her an apologetic look. “Sorry. Gotta bail. There's a fire at the fairgrounds. I left my truck there, can I borrow your car?”

Her heart turned over in her chest as she also hurried to her feet and grabbed the keys from the table where she had thrown them when they came inside. She gave them to him; he gave her a tight smile, a quick kiss.

“Be careful,” she said, fear winding like a snake around her stomach.

She had said these exact same words to David when she said goodbye to him.

“I will. I'll call you when I'm done. It's probably just another grass fire. Don't worry.” He kissed her again and then he was gone.

Don't worry,
he'd said.

Easier said than done.

She put the twins to bed, trying not to rush, trying to quell the panic that licked, like hungry flames, at her soul.

“Mama, Mama,” Chrissy called out, reaching out to her as if afraid.

“Just go to sleep, honey,” Hannah said, smoothing the still-damp curls away from her daughter's face. “Have sweet dreams and may God watch over you.”

And Brody,
she added.

Chrissy stuck her thumb in her mouth, turned over onto her side and her eyelids drifted shut.

Corey was already breathing heavily, lying on his back, his arms flung out as if he was still flying on the carousel.

Hannah tucked their blankets around them, tiptoed out of the room and carefully closed the door.

Then she hurried over to the window overlooking Main Street, her heart leaping into her throat when she saw the orange glow above the roofs of the buildings across the street. Panic seized her with an icy fist and, try as she might, she couldn't loosen its grip.

She pressed her chilled hands together, knuckles turning white as she clutched them under her chin.

“Please, Lord,” she prayed. “Please, Lord.”

She wanted to rush out of the house, to run down the street and find out what was going on. But she had to stay here, waiting, wondering, worrying.

Just as she had when David shipped out.

It will be okay. It's not as dangerous.

She tried to listen to the quiet voice, but the fear and panic leapfrogged over it, slamming forefront in her thoughts. She wanted to phone her mother but was afraid to get her worrying, as well. Instead, she picked up her phone and dialed Julie's number but was sent directly to voice mail. There was no way she was leaving a message, so she ended the call.

She turned away from the window and walked to her bedroom, dropping onto her bed. Her Bible lay there. Buoyed by the worship services, inspired by Pastor Ethan's message, she had started reading it again.

Moments later it lay open on her lap as she flipped through the pages. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she needed something. She found Psalms and began reading, seeking, looking, feeling like a wanderer through the desert, seeking even the smallest drop of water.

And then she remembered Psalm 46. Her father used to read it often, whenever her mother would start down her worry road, as he called it.

Her fingers flew through the pages and then, there it was. She took a deep breath and started reading aloud.

“God is our refuge and strength. An ever present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.” She read more slowly, letting the words soothe her fears, wrap themselves around her stuttering heart. She came to the end and read, “The Lord Almighty is with us. The God of Jacob is our fortress.”

Her softly spoken words echoed a moment in the silence of her room and she lowered her face in her hands, not sure what to do, what to think, how to pray. Her mind whirled back to those moments when she opened the door of this very apartment and saw the uniformed army officials.

I can't do this again,
she thought, rocking back and forth, her arms wrapped around her middle, trying, struggling to find peace.

Because, deep in her heart, she knew that though losing David was hard, losing Brody would be harder.

Hannah jumped to her feet and returned to the window, unable to keep from watching the glow above the roofs, peering into the night, unable to keep the panic from circling her mind like angry crows.

* * *

“I think we got it all.” Brody leaned on the shovel he had been wielding and looked around the blackened trees, checking for the slightest sign of smoke. The sun was slowly coming up, adding much-needed illumination to the glaring lights of the trucks and flashlights wielded by the volunteers and the Jasper Gulch firefighters.

He blinked as another rivulet of sweat seeped past his soaked helmet band and into his eyes, but he saw neither glowing embers nor wisps of smoke.

One of the firefighters from the Forest Service was on his knees in full gear, plunging his bare hand into the dirt, moving it around, then repeating the action. Finally he sat back on his heels and pushed up his visor. “This was the last hot spot and it's cold.”

Brody pulled off his gloves and wiped yet another rivulet of sweat from his face. They had spent the past eight hours fighting the fire that had started in the Shoemaker buildings, then, as the fire spread, trying to contain the flames that started in the trees.

It had been a long, grueling night, and Brody felt as if he couldn't lift his foot one more step.

Captain Daniels trudged toward them, looking as worn as Brody felt, his yellow coat and pants liberally streaked with soot.

“What's the verdict, Corrigan?” he asked the young man on his knees, who stood, using his Pulaski to stand.

“Nothing here. It's cold.”

The chief nodded. “This was the last trouble spot. Newton and Sawchuk are doing one more sweep,” he said, wiping his face with a paper towel, handing the roll to Brody. “But I think we can declare it out.”

Brody took the towels, ripped a couple off and handed the roll to Lance Corrigan, the young man from the Forest Service.

“Good job, guys,” Captain Daniels said, giving them both a curt nod and then walking on to the rest of the crew, made up of Jasper Gulch firefighters, volunteers and a crew from the Forest Service, to spread the news.

Brody looked over his shoulder at the remnants of the buildings that had, a few hours ago, been an inferno of flames and smoke. All that was left were the concrete foundations of two of the three buildings, a few blackened timbers that now leaned drunkenly against a collapsed tin roof, and the blackened hulk of what, he suspected, had been a cast-iron woodstove.

How was he going to tell Hannah that the baskets were now bits of ash? He couldn't even tell which building was the one they had been in, not that it mattered. Anything inside had been completely torched.

Dylan straggled over, tugged off his sooty helmet and tucked it under his arm. “I'm headed for a shower and then bed. What about you?”

“I should call Hannah, but it's early yet.”

Dylan shrugged. “She's got two little kids. I doubt she sleeps in much. It's six-thirty. If she's not awake now, she will be soon.”