Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (25 page)

“Me, too,” Autumn said, as a few parents, all running under umbrellas, darted into the barn to pick up their kids.

Nadia took over getting the children to their respective parents while Maribeth chanced a look at the guy still standing patiently near the entrance. And her heart clenched once again. Because Ryan was no longer looking at Maribeth. His full attention was on little Autumn, and his clenched jaw and compassionate eyes showed her that the little girl's story of her past storm had touched him the same way it'd touched Maribeth.

Which wasn't good. It was bad enough that Ryan Brooks looked the way he did and had such an effect on her senses merely from standing nearby wearing cowboy gear. Realizing that he also had a sensitive heart wasn't doing anything for Maribeth's already shaky willpower. And when his eyes met hers and she saw that they glistened with barely contained tears, she knew for certain.

Ryan Brooks was exactly...what she didn't need.

Chapter Four

R
yan had been introduced briefly to the majority of the parents who came to the barn to pick up their kids, either at John and Dana's wedding or at the town square. Many of them were now friends of his sister and all of them went to the church Dana and John attended. Maybe that was why they spoke to him as though they knew him personally.

The odd feeling he experienced around them reminded him that there weren't a lot of people in Ryan's world who actually knew him. Occasionally someone in the media would attempt to speak to him in a friendly manner, as though they were close, but Ryan knew better. They simply wanted the inside scoop on his company's investments.

Ryan wasn't used to someone being nice without having an ulterior motive. But all indications told him that was status quo for this tiny town, especially in the manner that they seemed so comfortable around the CEO of Brooks International.

“Good to see you again,” a young woman said. She had shoulder-length brown hair and appeared a few years younger than Ryan, maybe twenty-seven. “Jessica Martin,” she said, when she realized Ryan didn't recognize her. “I've met you a couple of times, but I'm sure it's difficult to remember everyone here when the majority of your time is spent in Chicago. I know Dana's happy you're in Claremont, though, even if it is only temporary. And I'm glad you seem to be doing better.” She waved at another woman entering the barn. The lady waved back, said hello to the two of them and then continued toward her child. “We've had you on the prayer list at church ever since your accident,” Jessica said.

“I appreciate that,” he said.

“Hey, you can never get too many prayers, right?” she asked with another grin.

Ryan wasn't sure how to answer that question, but thankfully, she forged ahead and he didn't have to.

“It's great that you're getting out more. I saw y'all on the other side of the square last night. My husband and I had the kids at the Sweet Stop—the candy and ice cream shop—and I saw you and Dana coming out of the consignment store. Pretty neat place Maribeth has, wouldn't you say?”

“Yes, I would,” he said. In fact, the potential for her store was the reason he was still in Claremont, but he wouldn't discuss that with this lady. He would, however, talk to Maribeth about it, after all of the kids were picked up.

“Walking around at the square was probably easier than getting around the farm, I suppose. Sidewalks aren't as difficult to navigate as the ground around here.” She ran her shoe across a clump of hay to prove her point. “Especially today, with the rain and all.”

“It is a challenge,” he said. In fact, Ryan's crutches had slipped twice on the damp earth during his journey to the barn, but now that he was here and getting a chance to talk to Maribeth, he considered the risk well worth it. The parents were steadily picking up the kids, and eventually, there wouldn't be anyone left but Ryan. No way for her to ignore him today.

The little blond boy Ryan recalled as Nathan rushed toward them. “Hey, can I try out the crutches? You know, practice with them, just in case I ever break a leg or something?” He looked from Ryan to Jessica. “Is that okay with you, Mom? If he says yes?”

She did one of those mini shakes of the head, as though his odd request wasn't anything unusual for her son. “Nathan, Mr. Brooks needs his crutches, and unless you're planning to break a leg anytime soon—and I sure hope you aren't—you don't need to practice.” She laughed at the boy's exaggerated frown, then said, “Ryan, in case you haven't already met, this is my son, Nathan.”

“Hey,” Nathan said, his voice not nearly as chipper now that he'd lost hope of practicing with Ryan's crutches.

“Nice to meet you, Nathan,” Ryan said.

“Nice to meet you,” he answered, still glumly.

“Nathan, Lainey is waiting on us in the car, so we need to go anyway,” Jessica said, then explained to Ryan, “Nathan's little sister was too young for the camp this year.” Then she looked back to Nathan. “And she's been waiting all day to see you.”

“O-kay,” Nathan said. He reminded Ryan of himself at that age, on the days he'd wanted to do something fun and his father had been too busy working to incorporate the activity into his schedule. And that included during vacations.

Ryan smiled at the kid. “You're coming back here tomorrow for the last day of camp, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So tomorrow, when you're done, find me. If it isn't raining, I'll let you have a go at the crutches. The rain makes it tough, even for me. But I'm not sure how much practice you'll be able to do. These are much bigger than any crutches you would have.”

“And we're hoping you never need any,” his mother interjected.

“Right,” Nathan said, smiling again. “But it'll be fun trying.”

Ryan laughed. The boy did remind him of himself. “Okay then, tomorrow you can practice.”

“Yes!” Nathan fist-pumped air.

“I didn't hear a thank-you there,” his mom said.

“Oh, right,” he said. “Thanks!” Then he darted into the rain toward one of the parked cars.

“You never know what a nine-year-old boy is going to want to try,” Jessica said, then added, “I appreciate you letting him. I know it doesn't seem like a big deal, but trust me, that'll be all he thinks about until tomorrow. Oh, and praying that the rain stops by then.”

“I'm glad to do it,” Ryan said, meaning every word. Then he noticed Maribeth watching the interaction. He looked toward her, and she quickly turned to say something to her teenage helper.

After saying goodbye to Jessica Martin, he waited as more parents arrived and retrieved their kids. Most of them said hello, and Ryan returned the greeting. He wasn't used to feeling a need to speak simply because you encountered someone on the street, but he'd noticed last night that you didn't meet someone in Claremont, even in passing, without acknowledging the interaction with some sort of salutation.

After ten minutes passed and almost all of the kids had been picked up, the teen who'd been helping Maribeth all week said her goodbyes. On her way out, she stopped near Ryan.

“I'm Nadia Berry,” she said. “I've seen you, but we haven't actually met.”

“Ryan Brooks,” he said, and then added, “but I'm guessing you knew that already.”

She smiled. “Everybody knows that, whether they're from Claremont or not. But I try to think of you as just Miss Dana's brother.”

He laughed. “Thanks.”

“I'm glad you came to the Bible study,” she said.

“It was good.” Ryan had never been to one before, so he didn't have anything to compare it to, but he'd been impressed at how much the kids had participated, especially the little girl who spoke at the end. And he decided not to tell Nadia that he hadn't come to the barn for the Bible lesson, that he'd come to force Maribeth to talk to him, which essentially forced him to attend the Bible study.

“If you liked the Bible study, you'd probably like visiting church, too. Maybe you could come sometime. My granddaddy is Brother Henry, the preacher,” she said.

He wouldn't make any promises he didn't plan to keep. “Maybe.”

“Well, have a blessed day. Looks like I'm about to get wet!” She took a deep breath and then ran toward her car, squealing and laughing.

In the time the two of them chatted, all of the remaining kids had been picked up, except for the little girl who had touched Ryan's heart. Autumn stood near Fallon's stall, and he watched Maribeth give her a green apple to feed the palomino. Autumn's face lit up when the horse happily chomped the treat, but that was nothing compared to the way it brightened when the last parent ran, dripping wet and panting, into the barn.

“I'm sorry I'm late,” she said breathlessly, pushing wet hair from her forehead as she quickly moved toward Autumn. “I stopped by your dad's office to visit and wasn't thinking about the drive taking a little longer in the rain.”

“I enjoyed her staying,” Maribeth said.

Ryan suspected that was partially because she didn't want the last child to leave...which would give her no choice but to talk to him.

“And Fallon really likes her,” Maribeth added.

“She likes me because I'm giving her apples.” Autumn ran her hand down the mare's nose.

“Yeah,” Maribeth said, “that's true, too.”

The lady smiled. “So, I take it camp went good today, even with the rain?”

“It was great,” Autumn said. She turned away from the horse to face her mom. “And the Bible study was good, too. We talked about storms, and I talked about my first mom—” she looked at Maribeth, then her mom, and smiled “—and then about you.”

The lady blinked and ran a hand along Autumn's cheek. “I can't wait for you to tell me all about it on the way home.” She glanced toward Maribeth. “Sounds like a good Bible study.”

Maribeth nodded. “It was.”

Feeling as though he were invading the private conversation, Ryan shifted on his crutches, and the lady jumped a little, apparently just noticing that she, Maribeth and Autumn weren't the only ones in the barn.

“Oh, I don't know how I didn't see you there, Mr. Brooks.”

“Please, call me Ryan.”

She smiled. “Okay. I'm Hannah. Hannah Graham. My husband is Matt Graham. And I guess you've already met Autumn.”

“We haven't actually met, but I was here when she talked about her personal storm during the Bible study, and I thought it was incredible that a girl so young could be so wise.”

Maribeth nodded her agreement, and Autumn shrugged timidly, but smiled.

Hannah put her arm around her daughter and gently squeezed. “Yes, she is.”

Ryan started to say more about his own storms in life and how he'd also lost his mother when he was young, but he didn't feel right sharing something so personal with people he'd just met, so he paused and said to Autumn, “I'm glad everything worked out so well for you.”

She leaned into Hannah and whispered, “Thanks.”

Then Hannah again thanked Maribeth for taking care of Autumn until she arrived, said goodbye to Ryan, and the two of them jogged through the downpour toward their car. Leaving Ryan alone with Maribeth.

Finally.

He waited for Hannah's car to leave, but unfortunately, the minute it did, the rain came down harder than before, and he wondered whether Maribeth would be able to hear him over the water beating against the tin roof and the horses fidgeting in their stalls.

He'd wanted to convince her to let him grow her business, and he'd been eager for this opportunity. But now, with the rain echoing through the barn, and the woman he hadn't stopped thinking about all week standing in front of him, Ryan's throat closed in, the way it did when he was a freshman struggling through his first speech class.

He swallowed. He'd been the keynote speaker for at least a half dozen events in the past year, many of which had had nearly a thousand attendees, and without breaking stride had taken over command of a
Fortune
500 company's board table when his father died. He'd never felt anything but excitement about each opportunity.

So why was he sweating now?

He shook off the ridiculous nerves, moved closer to her and said, “I've been wanting to talk to you.”

* * *

Maribeth didn't know whether Ryan stepped closer because of the loudness of the rain or because he wanted to intimidate her a little, but in either case, she wouldn't let him think that he made her nervous. Even if he did. She took a small step toward him and said, “What a coincidence. I want to talk to you, too.”

That strong jaw flexed, his brows raised a fraction and his beautiful mouth lifted on one side. And Maribeth didn't like the fact that she thought of his mouth as beautiful.

“Okay then,” he said, his voice as deep and strong as she remembered, and sending a little tremor down her spine, “Ladies first.”

She refused to be intimidated. She'd seen his high-and-mighty wall slip a little, and she wanted to know what had touched him earlier. “Why did you react that way to Autumn's story?”

The hint of a smile he'd had a moment ago flattened, and his jaw tensed again. “React?” he asked.

She knew she was onto something, and she wasn't going to stop until she found out what it was. “Don't try to act like I'm making this up. I saw you. You were touched by what she had to say.”

“And you were, too, and Nadia, and probably several of the kids. She had a moving story.” He shrugged. “She's a little girl who has been through a tough situation. Anyone would react to it.”

Maribeth shook her head. “There was more to it than that.”

He didn't answer, and his eyes moved to the stalls, where the horses were antsy about the storm.

Maribeth nodded once. “Okay then. That's fine. But you should know, I'm not interested in talking about whatever you want to talk about if you aren't willing to talk to me.” She checked her jeans pocket for her car keys, felt them inside and then stepped around him. “Have a good day, Mr. Brooks.” She wasted no time getting out of the barn.

The rain was much colder than it'd been earlier and slapped her face as she made her way to her car without looking back. But that didn't keep her from hearing him yell.

“Wait!”

Maribeth opened the car door and hurried inside, then slammed it to keep out any sounds in case he tried to stop her again. She'd pretend she didn't hear him and leave.

But a movement near the barn caught her eye, and she looked back to see Ryan on his crutches in the downpour moving directly toward her car.

“What are you doing? Are you craz—” She halted the words she knew he couldn't hear when she saw him hit a muddy patch of earth, his crutches sliding out from under him, and Ryan Brooks, the guy frequently hailed in the media as “larger than life and unstoppable,” came crashing to the ground.