Love Inspired September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Montana Twins\Small-Town Billionaire\Stranded with the Rancher (34 page)

“What's that?”

“I wanted you to know that I get this.” He pointed toward her outfit.

“You get what?” she asked, undeniably confused.

“Your clothes. I realized that when you work in your store, you wear outfits designed to match those of celebrities, but until today, I didn't realize that you do that with your casual clothes, too. It's ingenious.”

“Ingenious?” she asked, a soft chuckle trilling through the word. “And how can you be so sure that this is a celebrity's ensemble?” She waved her hand down the length of her body, and the more he studied the clothes, the more he knew for certain that he'd seen something very similar before.

“Because I know whose outfit you're wearing.”

Nadia had parked her car, and she and Jasmine got out and started walking toward them. Obviously they'd heard the comment.

“You know whose outfit that is?” Nadia asked. She examined Maribeth's peach shirt, worn jeans, boots and cowboy hat while Maribeth shook her head as if saying there was no way Ryan would get this right.

“I don't know this one,” Jasmine said, confirming Ryan's belief that Maribeth did, in fact, mimic the celebrities in her casual wear, too.

“I've got an idea,” Ryan said, tapping his chin as though he really was putting thought into what he was about to say, when in truth he already had his mind made up.

Maribeth wasn't fooled. “I'm thinking you're up to something, but I'll bite. What's your idea?”

Jasmine and Nadia grinned and stopped walking toward the barn. Apparently they wanted to hear what Ryan had to say, too.

“If I tell you whose outfit you have on today, will you agree to have coffee with me after church tonight?” He realized he'd just asked her out in front of the two girls and that it probably would have been smarter to ask her privately. So he added, “We could talk about my ideas for growing your business.”

Jasmine stood directly behind Maribeth, so that Maribeth couldn't see her give a thumbs-up sign to Ryan. He was glad the girl was on board with this. After the awkward flirtation yesterday, he was a little surprised. But then again, she'd seemed to bounce back rather quickly when Cory Shields had shown interest.

“I don't think I want to discuss growing my business,” she said, and he didn't like the fact that her tone wasn't as happy as it'd been a moment ago. But Ryan did want to grow her business. However, he now also wanted to grow their relationship and see where this might lead.

“Okay, even if we don't talk business, will you at least have coffee with me and talk about something else after church tonight?”

Maribeth's eyes widened. “Does that mean you're going to church tonight?”

“I'd already decided that,” he said. “Seems all these people praying for me have me thinking about it, and I decided if I'm thinking about faith, I might as well see where I stand. Where better to figure that out than at church?”

Her smile stretched into her cheeks. “Where better?” she echoed. And then she said, “So you think you can tell me whose outfit I'm wearing, and if you get it right, then I'll go have coffee with you after church...and we might—or might not—talk about business.”

“That's the deal,” he said.

“And what if you're wrong?” she asked.

“Then I promise I won't ever ask you about growing your business again,” he said, knowing he would not be wrong.

“Okay then, deal. Whose outfit am I wearing?” Maribeth asked. Her smile looked triumphant now, as though she knew he'd never get this right.

Never underestimate a Brooks.
A Lawrence Brooks saying that Maribeth should've paid attention to.

He cut the preamble and went straight to the chase. “Sandra Bullock in
Hope Floats,
right down to the worn cowboy boots. And, in case you're curious, I can also tell you what she wore to the accompanying premiere.”

“You're amazing,” Jasmine said, and Ryan thought he might have messed up by trying to impress Maribeth in front of this particular female.

“Wait and let's see if he gets this right,” Maribeth said. “Because that would be amazing. And I know what she wore, because I have the photo from her at that premiere on the wall in the store. So you tell me, what did she wear?”

“It was a black pantsuit, with some kind of strapless lace top underneath. I have no idea what designer, but I know that's what she wore.” He waited a second while Nadia and Jasmine both looked toward Maribeth for the answer.

“Is that right?” Nadia asked.

“Yes,” Maribeth said, and to Ryan's delight, she sounded impressed. He'd have to start studying the premiere pictures in the tabloids so he could impress her more often. “How did you know?” she asked.

He leaned against the fence and took the weight off his braced leg. “Dana has always adored Sandra Bullock,” he explained. “We were teens when that movie came out, and our father knew she'd want the first chance to see it, so he took us. I was at that premiere.”

“Of course you were,” Maribeth said with a laugh. “Your sister was right. You are full of surprises.”

“So, coffee after church? I saw a little coffee shop on the square the other night when Dana and I were there.”

She nodded. “That sounds great.”

Jasmine held up two thumbs and then Nadia said, “That was pretty cool, Mr. Brooks, how you guessed the outfit and all. I don't suppose you've ever been asked out on a date quite like that before, have you, Maribeth?”

Ryan waited to see if she'd say that it wasn't a date, but she surprised him when she answered, “No, I haven't, and you're right. It is pretty cool.”

Nadia and Jasmine turned and chatted about
Hope Floats,
how they'd both seen it on television and how cute they thought Harry Connick Jr. was in the movie while Ryan stayed beside the woman who, in his astute opinion, would give Sandra Bullock a run for her money as the most spectacular female in a peach floral shirt, jeans and boots.

“Pretty cool, huh?” he repeated.

She laughed. “And modest. Don't forget modest.”

“By all means, modest.” He liked this, teasing each other, learning each other and planning something that she considered a date. Worked for him. “So, what time does church start?”

“Seven o'clock,” she answered.

“Want me to pick you up at six forty-five? Might as well ride together,” he said.

“You sure you can drive? I know you said the doctor cleared it, but...” She pointed to his brace-covered leg.

“Shifting gears would be difficult, but Dana's car is an automatic.” He pointed to his sister's car, parked beneath the oak tree in front of the house. “So we're good to go.”

Her cheeks were still flushed, and the tinge had traveled to the vee of her shirt when he'd guessed her outfit correctly. She was so beautiful when she blushed, the sweetness of the action conveying the honesty and natural beauty of the woman. The breeze from the mountain caused one long dark lock to brush across her face, and she pushed it out of the way to give Ryan one more smile before she said, “We're good to go,” and then turned and entered the barn.

Chapter Ten

M
aribeth always loved the Wednesday-night Bible study, because it rejuvenated her spirit and prepared her for the remainder of the week. But tonight's would be even more special, because of Ryan.

He knocked on the back door of Consigning Women, which happened to be the door leading to her kitchen, promptly at six forty-five. Maribeth answered and found he'd dressed in a black Western shirt, khakis and boots. She nodded her approval. “You'll blend well.”

“I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what to wear to a church service, so I asked Dana for advice. I'm guessing she didn't steer me wrong.”

“No, she didn't.” If Maribeth were describing his attire for one of her clothing ensembles, she'd say something like,
A classic black Western shirt and khakis are best suited for an athletic build, a muscular physique that isn't too over the top. Perfect for a guy who wants to make a statement but isn't lacking confidence.

She blinked and shook the blurb away. That wasn't the type of thing she'd say. If this outfit were in her store, she'd be pairing it with what celebrity wore it best.
This vintage Western shirt, khakis and boots are perfectly suited for
—Maribeth drew a blank for what star might be wearing this attire, because the only one she believed it perfectly suited...was standing in her doorway. And waiting for her to say something.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she said. “You ready to go?”

He smiled. “Not until you let me guess.”

“Guess?”

He pointed to the simple ultrapale blue dress that she loved. “Cameron Diaz?”

She shook her head. “Katie Holmes, at the premiere of
The Kennedys.
”

He nodded. “I should've thought of that. It does have a Jackie Kennedy simple-yet-classic look. I like it. A lot.”

“I do, too,” she said, then picked up the Bibles she'd placed on the table by the door. “I got an extra Bible in case you need one.”

“Dana actually gave me one to use tonight, and then I walked out without it. So, thanks. I'm sure that'll be handy, right?”

“Right.” Maribeth had worried about assuming he wouldn't have a Bible of his own, but he didn't seem insulted at all that she had one for him; on the contrary, his appreciation of her gesture touched her heart.

Ryan walked beside her, his hand against the small of her back as he gently guided her to the car. Then he opened her door and waited. “All set?” he asked as she clicked the seat belt into place.

“Yes, thanks.”

Then he circled the car and climbed in.

“I've got to admit, I'm a little nervous about this church thing, but I'm ready to give it a try,” he said as he backed out of the parking space and began the short drive to Claremont Community Church.

“Have you been to church before? Or is that something I shouldn't ask?” She didn't want to insult him, really she didn't, but it surprised her that someone could be thirty years old and never have attended church.

“Weddings and funerals,” he said. “So this'll be something new.” He pulled up to the four-way stop at Maple and waited for two other cars to take their turns. “My father never wanted to rely on anything but himself,” he said, “and he didn't want us relying on anything else, either.”

“That's...sad,” she said, when that was the only word that came to mind. She squinted as the setting sun got so bright ahead of them that she could just barely make out Ryan's face.

He leaned toward her, and for a moment she thought he would kiss her here, at the four-way stop, while cars continued to line up. But he eased his hand in front of her face, reached for the visor and pulled it down to block the bright light from her eyes. “Better?” he asked.

She swallowed. “Yes, thanks.”

Then he took her hand in his, folded his fingers over hers and said, “Let's think about tonight and not worry about what I have or haven't done in the past.”

“That sounds great,” she said, but her mind kept wondering what his life had been like as a child growing up without faith. And she kept coming back to that same word.
Sad.

* * *

Ryan hadn't known what he'd expected from his first trip to church, but it wasn't this. Practically the entire town filled the tiny white-steepled building. And everyone made an effort to come by and say hello, not because he was Ryan Brooks of Brooks International, but because he was Ryan, Dana's brother, John's brother-in-law, Abi's uncle. And he loved every handshake, every introduction, every friendly smile. There was nothing fake about the people of Claremont. They weren't looking for an investor, didn't ask for a loan, didn't care what he had sitting in the bank or logged on his books. They simply wanted to get to know
him.

What a concept.

And the woman by his side only made the night better. Yes, the dress she wore had a Jackie Kennedy style, but the style he'd come to adore was all her own. Tonight her hair was held back by a pale blue satin band in a manner probably worn by the famed first lady, but it suited Maribeth, too. Anything, Ryan concluded, would suit Maribeth.

During the lesson taught by Brother Henry, she guided Ryan when he looked for the Scriptures without drawing attention to the fact that he was somewhat lost when it came to Bible knowledge. He had no idea whether a book was in the Old Testament or the New, but he did understand tonight's subject of prayer. And he knew God had put it on his heart to come tonight because He knew what Ryan needed most: Him.

Each passage resonated within Ryan, not only showing the power and necessity of a person's ability to pray to God, but also the simplicity of the act. God wanted to be talked to. He wanted to be Lord, friend, father. And there was no right or wrong to prayer. You simply talked to Him, He listened and He answered.

A comfort washed over Ryan as he put the pieces together and realized that he'd never once turned to God for help, not as a kid, when he'd resented the fact that he didn't have a mother, not as a teen, when he'd wanted to spend time with his dad and his dad was too busy building a
Fortune
500 company to go fishing with his son, and not when his father had died and the weight of running that company fell on Ryan's shoulders. He'd been alone for all of it, and he didn't have to be.

If only he'd realized it sooner.

“Ryan, you okay?” Dana's voice surprised him, and he looked up to see her standing in front of his pew. Apparently he'd been so absorbed in the sermon, and then the last song, that he hadn't realized they'd been dismissed. He also hadn't realized how tightly he'd grasped Maribeth's tiny hand. He looked at where their fingers were joined and loosened his grip. “Sorry about that.”

She smiled, her dark eyes warm with compassion. “Don't be.” Then, as though she knew he wasn't quite ready to face Dana's questions about what had his heart clenching in his chest, she said, “Ready to go get that coffee?”

He continued holding her hand and let her lead the way out of the church while they politely said their goodbyes to everyone and headed toward the car. Outside, when the summer-night air touched his skin, Ryan felt as though he could breathe again, and he took control, ushering her to the passenger side of the car and letting her in.

At the church, Ryan's phone hadn't had service, but about midway between the church and the square that must have changed, because it buzzed wildly with alerts of missed calls and texts. But Ryan was done with business today. Something had happened at the church; his spirit had been moved, he supposed. He'd heard the phrase before and never thought it realistic...until now.

Maribeth didn't say anything until they pulled into the parking lot and he turned off the car. But Ryan knew what she was thinking, and he wasn't the type to skirt the facts.

“Was it that obvious, the fact that I was having a tough time at the church?” he asked simply.

“Just a little,” she said, her voice soft and warm and perfect. “Brother Henry has a way of doing that, you know, touching what needs to be touched and evoking emotions that maybe we're trying to keep hidden,” she said.

They sat in the parked car in silence for a moment, and then she said, “If you'd rather not do the coffee tonight, we can wait until another time.”

“No, I want to,” he said. “And I want to tell you what all was going on back there, what had me so worked up.”

“Okay then.” She reached for her door handle and he attempted to hurry and help her out. But he couldn't move quickly enough with the brace, and she was waiting on him when he got to the other side.

“Falling down on my job already,” he said, glad to feel himself relaxing and able to smile again.

“That's okay. I can open my own door.”

“But you won't have to,” he said.

Then he put an arm around her, and it felt as natural as if he'd been doing it his entire life, and they walked to the front of her store and then across the square toward the Grind.

Maribeth couldn't remember a guy ever treating her with such kindness and tenderness on a date, let alone a first date. She wasn't certain exactly when it had happened, if it was when he admitted he'd never had faith in his world but was willing to look for it now, or when he'd sweetly moved her visor to shield her eyes from the sun, or when he'd squeezed her hand in church as the sermon touched his soul, but at some point during the night she'd realized that her heart had already fallen. She was in love with Ryan Brooks.

“What about here?” he asked, pointing to one of the wrought iron bistro tables on the Grind's patio.

“Perfect.” She sat across from him and within minutes they'd placed their order and soon had steaming mugs of coffee, black for him and a white-chocolate mocha for her, in front of them on the table.

He ran a hand down his face and then rubbed his chin, like a guy who was about to deliver bad news, except Maribeth suspected the news wasn't about anything in the present, but in his past. She knew what that was like, and she thought she'd tell him about her history, too. If she were to truly give him her heart, she'd want him to know everything. But tonight was about Ryan. Church had touched him, and he wanted to open up. She'd let him, and soon, when the time was right, she'd open up, too.

“In all my years of attending seminars my father recommended on self-evaluation, running a successful business, creating your professional destiny, nothing has affected me the way Brother Henry's lesson did tonight. I think it was because what he was saying is that it isn't merely up to me. I'm not the one in control, and I shouldn't want to be. And after thinking about it—really examining how I've lived my life, particularly since my father died—I don't want to feel I'm on my own.” He shook his head. “I can command a boardroom, keep an audience's attention for an hour-long speech with no problem at all, but I honestly can't convey what I'm feeling right now.”

“That's because you're feeling faith. God. The truth that the world doesn't revolve around you,” she said. “Wait. That didn't come out right.”

He laughed, and she loved the way it filled the air and seemed to release the tension completely. “No, I think it came out perfectly. The world
doesn't
revolve around me, and it's amazing how excited I am to finally figure that out.” He reached across the table and placed his fingers over hers, gently tracing circles across her knuckles as he spoke. “Thank you, Maribeth.”

“I didn't do anything,” she said.

“You've opened my eyes to the things that are important, and now I see why Dana loves it here. Everything is simpler, clearer.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Less stressful.”

“Would you,” she started, and then wasn't sure whether it would be too forward to ask. But then again, she wanted to know, so she continued, “Would you want to live in Claremont?”

He'd started lifting the cup to his lips but paused halfway, his mouth sliding to the side as he thought about his answer. Then he shook his head. “At first I couldn't imagine living in a place this small, this rural. But over the past few weeks, I've come to love it here,” he said.

“That's great,” she said, but he lifted his hand as if he had more to say.

“However, I still have a company to run, and as much as Dana has tried to convince me it can be done long-distance, that just isn't the case. My board has managed okay while I've been gone, but they're holding what they can until I'm back and we can have a face-to-face.” He shrugged. “Some things simply can't be handled with video conference or email, even in today's world.”

Her hopes dropped a little, but she wasn't giving up yet. Obviously God had put Ryan in her life for a reason. And He'd put her in Ryan's life for a reason, too. She suspected that reason was to get him to church tonight, when Brother Henry had delivered a message that he'd undoubtedly needed to hear. But did God plan on Ryan staying in her life?

Please, God.

“Do you want another one?” he asked.

At some point in all of her thought process, she'd drained her cup. “Oh, no,” she said. “I'd never sleep tonight.” Which was laughable, because she suspected she wouldn't sleep anyway; her newly recognized feelings for Ryan would surely keep her awake, or perhaps dreaming of how things might have been. Might still be?

But how would it work? With him in Chicago and her in Claremont?

“Okay then, how about a walk across the square?” he asked.

She thought about the brace on his leg, and the fact that she had almost stopped noticing his slight limp. In fact, only when it'd taken him extra time to get around the car to try and open her door did she even think about it. But now she wondered how all of this walking tonight would affect his leg. Chances were he wouldn't say anything if it hurt him; that was the kind of guy Ryan Brooks had turned out to be. And she loved that about him. “Why don't we cut across the center so we can go by the fountain?” She didn't want to see the fountain as much as she wanted to limit the distance he'd have to walk on her account.