Mr. Wrong (12 page)

“Why did you come here, Beau?”
Sara turned and looked at him over her shoulder.

“Business.”
He knew his answer sounded unbelievable. He had met with some other investors that his friend had set him up with. It was kind of the truth.

Sara
didn’t respond but seemed to be mulling something over. “I was thinking that I don’t really know anything about you.”

Beau felt his stomach tighten.
He didn’t know how much he wanted her to know. He still felt a prickling of guilt within his heart. “I’m sure you’ve read my bio.” He kicked the dirt and started meandering around the stall, images of his uncle’s ranch assaulting him.

She turned and narrowed her eyes in, what appeared to be, deep thought.
“Do you like horses?”

He stepped forward, running his hand easily down
Sunfire. “What’s not to like? When I worked my uncle’s ranch, my favorite part was exercising the horses.”

“Hmm.”
She scrunched her nose up at him. “What’s your favorite color?”

Beau laughed
, a little surprised at the question, but liking the easiness of the conversation. “Blue.”

“Not surprising.”
She grinned to herself. “What’s your favorite season?”

Beau stepped closer to
Sara, still rubbing Sunfire’s back in gentle strokes. “That’s easy—fall.”

Sara
stopped and stepped into Beau’s space. He tried to hold his ground, intrigued at her sudden interest. “Why don’t you think it’s a good idea to provide wheelchairs to disabled, disenfranchised people?” He felt her breath on his lips.

“I think it’s a good idea on principle.”
His heart was beating faster. “I think it’s a bad business idea.”

Sara
glared at him with intensity. “I could make it work, Beau.”

“I think that you think you could make it work.”
He tried not to sound too arrogant.

She bit her lip and turned away from him.
“Oh—what’s the point? Life just ends—right? We go along doing our daily things and bam—you’ve got cancer—bam, you get hit by a car—bam, children get killed all the time for no reason at all.” Hysteria started washing over her, like a wave that was building momentum for a tsunami. “And no one cares. No one cares!” She was shouting at Beau now.

Beau grabbed both of her elbows and shook her a little.
“He cares, Sara. The Lord cares.” He tried to look deep into her eyes and pull her back to sanity by sheer will.

Collapsing agains
t him, she cried. Beau held onto her trying to provide a soft landing place for this mini breakdown. “Shh. He knows your pain. You can rely on Him. He tells us to come to Him and He will give us peace . . . not as the world gives it—but the way we need it. Let yourself feel his peace, Sara.” Beau whispered to her, like he would have calmed a child. He knew what it was like to feel fragile and on the edge of a breakdown. He’d been through it—and it hadn’t gone so well for him at the time.

“
Sara!” Mark busted through the barn doors. “It’s happening. You’ve got to come.”

**

They were all there. Her dad’s bed was elevated.

“She’s here, Dad.”
James rubbed his hand over his head gently.

Her dad opened his eyes.
“Your mother says she loves you all. She sent me back to tell you.” His voice was raspy, but one side of his mouth tried to smile.

Sara
felt The Spirit enfold them, like the slow warmth from a camp fire. They each took the hand next to them.

“We love both of you, Daddy.”
Sara broke her grip with Mark and softly touched her dad’s paper skin.

James, Tim, and Mark all followed her suit, telling him they loved him.
Her dad closed his eyes and let go. It felt almost peaceful to Sara, like a bird being set free.

Mark knelt beside the bed and cried
. Sara and James and Tim understood the tough relationship Mark had always shared with their father. It was a lot like the relationship Mark and Sara had with James: push-pull, love-hate. And now . . . it was over.

“It’s all right, brother,” James stepped to pat his shoulder.
“He knew you loved him.”

The funeral was two days later.
Sara hadn’t seen Beau since she’d left the barn and thought he’d flown back to Laramie. She wasn’t surprised, though, when he stood next to her at the graveside service.

“Thanks for coming.”
She didn’t know why it felt like he belonged with them. Maybe because he was part of trying to save a land that her father had cherished so much.

After the dedication
, James, Tim, and Mark shook Beau’s hand and Sara mingled with some longtime family friends. When she finally headed to the car, he was there, waiting for her.

“It seems like you’re making it a habit
. . . waiting for me by the car.”

He opened her door for her and went around the other side.
“I told your brothers I would see you home.”

Sara
sighed, sitting back into her seat. “Thanks.” Exhaustion from the day threatened to consume her.

Beau turned to her.
“I’m sorry I bulldozed you. I shouldn’t have just assumed I could step in.”

Sara
looked at him skeptically and smiled. “No you’re not,” she whispered it.

Beau raised his eyebrows.
“It was all about business. I’ve been working the past two days.” He smiled.

“
Uh huh.” She let out a deep breath, feeling the relief of everything begin to wash over her. She’d been on autopilot the past two days helping with the arrangements and trying to sort out all the details of the ranch with James.

“I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning.
I left your ticket open-ended if you want to stay for a few days longer.”

“No.”
She jarred from her thoughts, looking over at Beau. His hair was combed all respectable. He looked more like a missionary at the moment.

Beau pulled in front of her house.

“I would like to go back with you if that’s okay.”

Beau turned off the car
, and they looked at each other.

“It’s time.”
She looked at her house, feeling drained of all emotion, but she knew she had to move forward. “My dad would want me to finish the semester and do well.” One stray tear came down her face. “When you just think there can’t be any water left in your whole body . . .”

Beau gently rubbed the tear with his thumb.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Sara.” He put his hand on top of hers on the seat.

Sara
saw the compassion in his eyes and felt confused. “Who did you lose, Beau?”

He looked down then back to her.
“My dad. My wife.” His eyes were steady.

Sara
rocked back. “What?”

“On
my mission, my dad had a heart attack.” Beau waved his hand in the air. “I have always wished I’d talked to him when he’d tried to call the day before I left. It’s been a huge regret for me.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s been almost three years since my wife passed away. We were only married for nine months. The cancer was too advanced when we found out.”

Sara
noticed he was blinking rapidly. She grabbed onto his hand fully and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Beau.”

He tried to laugh.
“See, I know all about crappy things happening.” He squeezed her hand back gently and rubbed his eyes with the back of his other hand. “I couldn’t stand for you to face it all alone, Sara.”

Sara
looked at Beau’s face and wondered why everything between them seemed to change in an instant. It was like she was finally seeing who he really was.

“Do you want to walk with me to
Dad’s favorite spot?”

Sucking in a breath he nodded.
“Sure.”

They got out o
f the car, and Sara peered through the large front windows into the house. People from the ward were inside, balancing plates of food on their laps. She didn’t think she could stand to shake another hand at the moment. “This way.”

Beau picked up her hand
, and they walked in companionable silence watching the orange sky glowing behind the mountains.

“What was she like?”
Sara thought of Beau’s grief at losing his wife.

“She was too good for this world.”
He kicked a small rock on the road.

Sara
pulled him a little ways off of the path and then quickly kicked her leg over the wooden fence. “I know it’s not lady like to climb a fence in a dress.”

Beau hiked over it and laughed.
“I think we’re past that. Plus, I’d rather have you climb than carry you.” He smiled mischievously.

She smacked him in th
e arm, and he laughed, feeling her mood lighten just being with him. “So this is it. He said it reminded him of the sacred grove.” She sat on a stone bench. “He put this here.” She patted the side of the bench. The huge trees towered over them, leaving a hole in the center. A bright shadow filled it with light.

Beau sat down and turned to her.
“It’s beautiful.”

Sara
turned to him and saw the way he was looking at her.

He cleared his throat, again, and looked away.
“Would you come here often?”

Sara
thought of her dad’s face and felt a deep peace come over her. “Yes. He would sit here with all of us at different times and
really talk
. That’s what he would say. ‘Let’s go
really talk
in the grove.’” She smiled at Beau.

He put his arm gently around her shoulders and pulled her into him.
“He gave you all such a gift. He was a good man that loved you.”

She nodded, feeling drained.
“I should probably get back to the house. My brothers will wonder where I am.” She stood and Beau stood too. They both stared into each other’s eyes. Sara felt like she finally understood Beau a little bit. All the callousness and sarcasm was there to protect him. But he was really a good person.

“Are you doing okay?”

Sara thought of the quasi-breakdown she’d had two days ago in the barn and a calmness filled her heart. “It’s strange—ya know. I was so mad that day. And, it’s just been a rough couple of years seeing him get sicker and sicker. But when we surrounded him before he passed—I just . . .” Another tear broke free and her voice broke. “The Spirit was so strong. I really can’t explain it. It was like—the Lord was there, ya know. And I knew that Dad was happy and—so was my mother. Even though I’ve never known her.” She wiped the fresh tears off of her face and smiled. “And—I’m okay.” Inhaling deeply she looked at Beau’s perfect, sympathetic face. “I’m just so grateful for my dad and his example to me. He never quit telling us that things would be okay if we just put our faith in the Lord—and for a while I didn’t believe him. But—well, it was just amazing, the peace I’ve felt since that day he passed on. That’s what I want—to live up to the example he has set for us. I want to grow close to the Savior so I can say that I know it will be all right.”

He slowly gra
bbed both of her hands.

They were silent, but she could feel his breath.
And she wondered, again, if he would kiss her.

Chapter 18

But he didn’t lean in.

She did.

She reached up and pulled his head to her, kissing him softly, like a whisper. It would have been an understatement to say the earth moved. It was more like it opened up and swallowed them into a whole new place that made the compass change. Everything she thought was up was down and down was up.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you that day at the airport.”
He sounded unguarded, like a child discovering something new.

She liked it.

Then he kissed her again. And she kissed him back. This time it was . . . passion. It was wonderful and painful and she never wanted it to stop.

Beau pulled back and inhaled quickly. “I can’t marry you.”

“What?”
Sara pulled away so quickly she almost fell over.

He reached out to support her.

“I didn’t want this to happen.” He seemed to be looking for something in her face. “I have a past, Sara.”

Jonathon
’s face flooded her mind. She pulled her hands to her mouth, feeling instant shame. “He’s coming home in three days.” She couldn’t believe she’d completely forgotten about him.

Beau stood there, frozen
, searching her face.

“I just—I just—.
Why can’t you marry me?” Confusion burned through her mind.

Beau laughed.
“This is incredible.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m completely wrong for you. One hundred percent wrong.”