Mr. Wrong (27 page)

“Thanks,
Marsal.” He sighed. Weren’t they all trying to gain forgiveness somehow? “Good luck, Marsal.”

She
started rolling the window up. “If you change your mind, there’s always Nigeria.”

He watched the taxi drive away. He hoped that she would find faith. Suddenly,
Beau couldn’t wait to explain to Sara. Everything. Completely everything. And how he loved her. He knew he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t. And she was probably better off with Jonathon. But after Marsal’s small and childlike testimony, how could Beau deny the truth?

He’d been working
with Bishop Archibald, going through the steps of repentance. But still, he had felt unworthy. He’d felt broken. But now he knew that he couldn’t fix anything. But the Savior could. Maybe there was still a chance.

An hour later,
Beau parked his car at the institute and got out to walk to Sara’s house. He rounded the corner to her apartment. He stopped.

Sara
stood in front of Jonathon.

And he was on his knee.

Ch
apter 38

A proposal was not what Sara was expecting. Her heart started beating fast and reflexively she pulled her hands over her mouth. “Oh my gosh.” How could he even still want her?

“Jonathon?”
Her voice wavered, and she tried not to look at the ring he held out to her.

He pu
shed the ring up. “Sara, I’ve loved you since the day I met you. Do you remember that? And I had to meet you, because you wouldn’t let me pick you up at your house.” He laughed. “You wanted an escape route, remember?”

Her heart pounded and she forced back tears. “I remember.”

He laughed. “That summer meant everything to me. And the last two years you’ve been the girl I’ve wanted to come home to. The girl I’ve daydreamed about when I tried not to. The girl that wrote me every week.” His eyes teared up. “The girl I’ve loved.” He took a shaky breath. “I know you say we don’t know each other that well, but I think I know you. The letters we shared sunk deep into my heart. Sometimes I’ll find myself thinking of things you wrote. And then I realize that I’m home and there are no more letters.” He broke off. “It’s like . . . it’s like you’re always a part of me. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing. It always comes back to you, what you’re doing, what you’re thinking.” He kissed her hand lightly. “I think it always will.” His brown eyes were lit up, his smile bright.

The memories flew through her mind.
Her letters. Her innermost thoughts she poured onto paper every week. She’d shared everything with him. And he’d shared everything with her.

“Marry me,
Sara.” He stood and took the ring out of the box. He held it in front of her finger. “Marry me because you love me.” The passion and innocence burned straight to her heart.

She clutched her chest with one hand, overwhelmed by the feelings from long ago.
The feelings she’d stored in her heart for two years. He could give her everything she wanted. Everything her dad had wanted for her. A vision of herself standing next to him in front of the Salt Lake Temple filled her mind. She stared at the ring.

Unexpectedly,
Beau’s face washed through her mind. Swallowing hard, she pasted on a smile. A sense of purpose washed through her. The kind of purpose that she knew what she had to do. “Yes.”

“You will?”
he asked it with disbelief.

“I will.”

Jonathon slipped the ring onto her finger and then swung her into a circle.

She laughed. And
felt a tear press down her cheek. She swept it away and tried to get caught up in the moment.

“Wahoo!”
Jonathon twirled her again and then put her down. “I’ll make you so happy, Sara. I promise.”

She couldn’t describe why her insides seemed to start shaking, but she was
freezing. Her lower lip started to shake. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a movement, almost a shadow. She turned, seeing the back of a black leather jacket walking away from the side of her apartment.

He kissed her again, the warmth of his lips linger
ed over hers. “I’ve got to get on the road. But—I’ll call you.” He squeezed her tightly to him.

She watched him go and then stepped around the side of the apartment.

Nothing was there.

**

Sara went to the baptism and put on a very excited front for Rob.

Rob came over to her at the end
and grabbed her into a hug. “I owe it all to you, you know.” His hair was still wet, and his whole face seemed to glow. “You agreed to come watch me perform. Good missionary work there.”

His joy was infectious
, and she felt so happy for him. “You did it, Rob. You are so amazing!” And he was. “Is the plan still to go on a mission?” She slugged him gently in the shoulder and gestured to Linda.

“You bet.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “Everyone needs to wait for a missionary, right?”

She smiled and touched the finger
she'd just taken the ring off. She had placed it in her jewelry box. The one her father had given her when she’d turned six. She hadn’t even told Genova yet, who had burst into their apartment twenty minutes before the baptism and demanded to be updated on Sara’s love life.

It didn’t feel real yet.
And she wasn’t ready to share the secret with everyone at the institute. She figured she’d already given everyone enough to talk about earlier in the day.

Rob
studied her. “He’s not as bad as you think, you know that, right?”

Sara
tried to act like she didn't know what he meant, but couldn't hold his eyes. “What are you talking about?"

Beau
hadn’t even looked at her during the baptism. Her thoughts flitted to Valerie. She shuddered.

Rob
let out a soft sigh. “You still have it bad for him.”

Sara shook her head. "No. I don't."

Rob scoffed and put his arm lightly over her shoulders. “Ten days, baby. Ten days until school is over.”

She nodded back at him.
“Are you done with your business plan?”

“Almost.”

Genova
and Kevin moved in to congratulate Rob.

Sara went to the foyer and grabbed her coat. She didn't look forward to the cold walk home.

Chapter
39

Her car overflowed with assorted luggage and gifts to take home for Christmas break. She parked next to the Ivinson Home and took care to watch her step with all the ice on the curbing and sidewalk. She held two Christmas bags—one for Martha and one for Larry.

Larry had made a remarkable recovery.
Although he wasn’t back to his Saturday practices, yet, he looked happier than Sara had ever remembered seeing him.

And Martha seemed to be ten years younger.
Last week, when Sara had visited them, Martha was back to dressing up with full make-up and bright red lipstick. Her natural love for life was even magnified with their wedding plans in motion. She talked nonstop about a spring wedding and the flowers that would be blooming in the garden at the church downtown. Sara reflected on the fact that it didn’t matter what age a person was—it seemed like there was always room for more love.

Sara moved straight for Martha's apartment. She'd asked her to have lunch before hitting the road for Kalispell
.

Last week, w
hen she’d announced her engagement to Jonathon, neither of them had looked surprised. She wondered what Beau had told them but couldn't bear to ask.

Plus, she
was engaged now, why should she even care about Beau

When she’d given her final presentation and gone over her business plan
, he’d simply smiled and nodded to her. “Thank you, Ms. Fairbanks, it looks like a great idea.” A surge of anger smarted through her. So cocky. Always so cocky.

She wanted to put this last semester behind her.
And she wanted to see her brothers and Tim’s new little baby she hadn’t gotten a chance to play with yet. She also hated to admit that she wanted to get away from Genova.

When
Sara had told her about her engagement to Jonathon, she'd acted . . . disappointed then tried to be extra cheerful and excited for her. Sara had ignored all the hurtful feelings and gone on as normal. They’d talked about their weddings and how fun it would be to be newly married together. Sara would be going to Loveland, Colorado for Genova’s wedding in two weeks. They were getting married in the Denver temple. But still, there were times when Genova remained silent and Sara knew what she was thinking . . . that things weren’t done with Beau.

But they were.

And the
wedding was set for March 5
th
.

She knocked on the door
and slipped her Christmas smile into place.

The door flew open
, and Martha pulled her into her arms. A light cinnamon fragrance filled the air, and Sara saw the whole apartment was decorated in lively Christmas décor.

Sara grinned and pulled away from Martha
. “It looks lovely.”

Martha had on a red, satin dress with gleaming diamond earrings and a big diamond necklace.

"And you look amazing!"

Martha did her mock model pose. "Well, I thought I should do it up right on my wedding day.”

Sara
gasped. "Wedding day?"

Martha took her hand and
pulled her into the apartment. "It was Larry’s idea.”

This was not making sense at all.
“What?”

“He called Bishop Archibald up two days ago and asked if he would marry us here, at the home.”
She rushed on with excitement. “We just decided we didn’t have time to wait until spring, ya know.” She laughed. “Neither of us are getting any younger, and we want to be together, not shuffling between apartments.” She winked at Sara playfully.

Sara
relaxed. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have helped."

Martha
pulled her back out of the apartment. “We didn’t want a big, showy affair. We just wanted the people most important to us.” She laughed. “We didn’t even call our kids—they never visit anyway. We hired a caterer and the staff put up some decorations." Martha shut the door and paused. "Come on, now. We don’t want to be late. You’re the last one to arrive. Everyone is waiting for us in the cafeteria.”

Butterflies hammered into her stomach
, and she heard the wedding march start in the cafeteria. “This is so great, Martha. I am so happy for you guys.”

Martha laughed.
“I’m excited too.” She took Sara's hand and squeezed it. “Will you be my maid of honor?”

Tears burst into her eyes. She blinked and nodded.
"Of course."

Martha squeezed her hand, again and laughed.
“Here we go.”

They
entered the cafeteria and the wedding march started again. An older gentleman Sara didn't recognize sat at a piano. Three rows of chairs with a walkway in the middle were arranged. Guests were seated. Most of the residents from the home were there. All done up with smiles on their faces. Larry sat in a wheelchair at the end of the isle. His mustache was perfectly combed, and Sara loved seeing how it curled a little at the edges.

Larry winked at her.

Martha pushed her forward. "The bride goes last, sweetie."

Sara couldn't stop the happiness that filled her. She winked back at Larry.

But as she got closer to Larry.

She saw him.

Her eyes locked with his, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe for a second. And looking away wasn't an option.

Of course he would be
here. For a second, she'd almost forgotten about him.

H
is blue eyes burned back at her. The force of them scorching into the deepest part of her. Like the blocked rays of sunlight after a bleak month of winter.

H
e wore black pants and a simple button down white shirt with a red tie and dress jacket. And, as always, his boots.

His lip twitched into a half-smile.
The smile he used to give her when he was referring to a secret they shared.

She stumbled.

But she didn't fall. She quickly took her place across from Larry, next to the podium and didn't look back.

Bishop Archibald
nodded to her and then smiled at Martha as she took her place next to Larry.

Sara couldn't stop the pounding of her heart. He was looking at her. She could feel it.

The music stopped, and Martha slipped her hand into Larry's.

Sara
tried to focus on Martha and Larry, not on Beau.

After the, not surprising, rather long
-winded ceremony from Bishop Archibald, Sara hugged the bride and groom.