That Wilder Boy

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

He laughed louder. How had he managed to get along for even so brief a time without her? “You’re too much, Carrie.”

  “I hope not.” All teasing was set aside. “I hope. . .nothing about me is too much.”

  He knew she referred to her wealth. He closed the gap between them, taking hold of her hands. “I’m sorry I’ve let your money come between us. It’s awkward, you know? As the man I feel like I need to be the stronger one in all areas, including financial.”

  She lifted her gaze, tears twinkling in the corners of her eyes. “I know, Rocky, but I can’t make it go away. I come as a package—me. . .and my money. I can’t tell you how hard I’ve prayed for someone to be able to accept me for myself and not want me because I’m wealthy. You’re the first person who has rejected me because I was wealthy. That didn’t hurt any less.”

  Rocky wished he could kiss her pain away. But he remained still, her hands in his, as she continued.

  “I know when you look at me, there’s a part of you that sees my stepfather. But, Rocky, I don’t want to be like Mac. I don’t want to hoard this money. I don’t want to use it to control people or impress people. I’ve got it, and I can’t change that, but I can choose to use it for good.”

  Rocky, looking into her shimmering eyes, saw how much his false accusation had cost her. Before he could apologize again, she went on.

  “I bought a house, and I bought some things to go in it. I think my father would approve of that. But for the most part I want to give the money away. Your college fund is the first of many scholarships I want to give to people who might otherwise not be able to get an education. I’m setting up an account with the college for that.

  “I also want to donate a sum to your brother’s business—I really admire what he does in the community for our members with handicaps. And I know there will be other charity organizations that can benefit.”

  “You—you’re going to give it away?”

  ❧

  Carrie heard the astonishment in Rocky’s tone, and for a moment she faltered. Was he disappointed? Had he finally decided having her and her money would be a good thing? Her heart pounded as she answered, “Yes. I have no desire to live the lifestyle of my parents. I want simplicity, Rocky. Does—does that make a difference?”

  He released her hands and took a step back, his eyes wide. Running his hand through his hair, he shook his head. “I’m just amazed, that’s all. I mean, you could do anything you wanted to with your money. Travel, buy a house on the beach, send your kids to the best private schools. Why not do that?”

  “Because I’ve seen how money changes people. It makes them greedy and suspicious, and they start thinking they’re worth more because their bank account is bigger. Oh, I’m sure not all wealthy people are like that, but the ones I’ve grown up around?” She shook her head. “I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want the money to turn me into someone unlikable.”

  Rocky grinned. “Like that could happen.”

  She refused to find humor in the situation. “It could, Rocky. I saw it happen with my own mother. I believe she loved Daddy, but after he died she didn’t go looking for love—she went looking for money. She’d become so accustomed to moving in the highest social circle that she couldn’t accept anything less. She married Mac, and I’m not sure she’s ever been happy.” She sighed, her heart aching. “That old saying about money can’t buy happiness is sure true—I’ve seen the evidence in my own household.”

  Rocky didn’t say anything, just stood with his gaze angled toward the picture window.

  “Are—are you disappointed?”

  Suddenly he seemed to come to life. Turning toward her, he shook his head, a smile lighting his face. “You are amazing, Carrie. The most unselfish person I’ve ever. . .” He dropped his gaze for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. Finally he raised his chin, meeting her gaze. “I don’t want your money, Carrie. I never did. It. . .unsettled me. I knew I couldn’t compete with it.” Taking a step closer, his expression turned serious. “You aren’t giving it away to satisfy me, are you? You’re doing this because you really want to, not because you feel pressured?”

  Warmth flooded Carrie’s middle. As much as her money intimidated him, he didn’t want her to part with it to satisfy him. He cared for her—her, Carrie—so much that he was willing to accept the money if it was what she wanted. The knowledge made her feel light as air.

  “I don’t feel pressured. I want to use it for others’ good.”

  He nodded, approval shining in his eyes. “Good. That’s really good.”

  “And you’ll accept the college fund?” She held her breath, hoping.

  Although he hesitated, at last he gave a slight nod. “Yes. I’ll accept it.” His voice turned husky as he added, “Thank you, Carrie.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They stood without speaking, gazes locked, while Carrie wished he would lean forward and kiss her. But instead of leaning toward her he suddenly rocked back on his heels and clapped his palms together.

  “So. . .you bought a house, huh?”

  She blinked twice in surprise at this sudden change in topics. “Yes. Yes, I did.” She took two hesitant steps in his direction. “Would you like to see it?”

  “Sure!”

  His enthusiasm brought a smile to her face. “It’s still pretty messy—boxes everywhere. I haven’t had time to put everything away yet.”

  “I could help with that, if you like.”

  She gave a nod. “I’d like that.”

  He crossed his arms and frowned down at her. “How’s the yard landscaped?”

  She sighed. “It’s nothing to brag about. One big maple in the front yard, and another in the back, as well as what I think is a Russian thistle—at least it’s covered with seed pods that look like little Christmas ornaments. But shrubs and flowers? Nothing. It’s almost a clean slate.”

  He grinned. “Betcha I can help with that, too.”

  She laughed. “I just bet you can.” Smirking, she added, “The first project for Mays and Wilder.”

  He pointed his finger at her. “That’s Wilder and Mays, young lady.”

  She raised one eyebrow and didn’t respond.

  “Or perhaps we could try something else.”

  Carrie tipped her head. “Like?”

  “Like. . .Wilder and Wilder.”

  Eighteen

  Carrie angled her gaze to observe Rocky as they headed toward the college. How at ease he appeared, leaning back in the driver’s seat, his wrist slung over the steering wheel, the other arm propped on the window opening. He had a cat-who-swallowed-the-canary look about him, and his handsomeness, as always, made her heart thrum in her chest.

  He whisked a glance in her direction, his face breaking into a smile. “Whatcha looking at over there?”

  “You.”

  “Oh yeah?” He chuckled, his gaze on the road. “Can’t imagine that would hold your attention for too long.”

  She resisted giving him a bop on the arm. “Don’t under-estimate yourself, Rocky. You have to remember you’re no longer just Rocky Wilder—you’re a child of the King. Tell yourself that each time you look in the mirror.”

  He gave her a smile that sent her heart ka-wumping. Taking hold of the steering wheel with his left hand, he reached across the seat with his right and clasped her fingers. “Thanks, Carrie. Sometimes I’m just. . .overwhelmed, I guess. . .that you see me that way. You’re so good and so—”

  She squeezed his fingers. “Hold it right there. I’m not any better than you, so don’t go in that direction. We’re all sinners saved by grace, Rocky. I’m no better and no worse than you. We’re both new creatures in Christ. That makes us even, okay?”

  Another smile thanked her for her words. He released her to put both hands on the steering wheel and guide the car into a parking space. But as they headed across the sidewalk toward the administration building he took hold of her hand again, and this time he held tight until they reached the financial ai
d office.

  Carrie reluctantly released his hand—it felt so good, so secure, to have her hand within his broad, strong fingers—so he could pick up a pen and sign the paperwork that would officially enroll him for the spring semester.

  As he filled in boxes with black ink, she raised on tiptoes and whispered, “I can help you with your homework, if you’d like.”

  His lips twitched into a grin. “You sayin’ I won’t be able to handle myself in these classes?”

  A shake of her head denied his statement. “Not at all. Just making myself available.”

  The grin deepened, bringing out the dimples she loved. “Hmm. . .might need you every evening. Sure you’re up to that?”

  She saw the teasing glint in his eye, but something else lingered there, too. She’d seen it the night at his house when he’d dropped the idea of calling their business Wilder and Wilder. A longing, perhaps, coupled with a hesitance.

  She pressed her shoulder to his upper arm. Using a deliberately light tone she said, “For you, I could make the sacrifice of every evening.” Her heart thudded—what might he say next?

  But he didn’t reply, just gave her a wink and returned to his paperwork. Carrie remained silent, too, allowing him to concentrate, but underneath her calm exterior her thoughts tumbled. Was he trying to gather his courage and ask her something important? Or was he merely teasing? How she wished he would get to the point!

  Finally Rocky signed the last document and handed it to the secretary.

  “Welcome to Petersburg University,” the woman said.

  Rocky nodded in the woman’s direction, but when he said, “Thank you,” he looked at Carrie.

  ❧

  “So. . .” Rocky stuck his hands in his pockets. His fingers found the little tissue-wrapped package he’d tucked away that morning. A tremble filled his middle, and he had to force a smile. “Do you have anything special to do right now?”

  Carrie lifted her wrist and checked her watch. “Hmm. . .no pressing engagements I can think of.” She lifted her head and peeked up at him. “Why? Did you have something in mind?”

  Oh yes, he had something in mind all right. He licked his lips. “Thought maybe we’d swing by Elmwood Towers.” His pounding heart made him seek a temporary diversion. “Maybe see how Eileen is doing.”

  She offered a quick nod. “That sounds fine. I haven’t talked to her in several weeks.”

  They headed out of the building together, and Rocky kept his hands in his pockets. He wanted to hold her hand again, but his palms felt all sweaty, and he was afraid they’d give him away. But he did allow his elbow to brush her arm occasionally, and each time he did it she glanced up at him. The smiles that flew between them increased the tempo of his heartbeats with each connection.

  Carrie leaned back on the headrest and closed her eyes as he drove to Elmwood Towers. He knew she wasn’t asleep—her eyelids twitched—but he decided not to disturb her. She looked so peaceful, so content. Gratitude hit like an ocean wave. How readily she trusted him—her relaxed pose told him that more clearly than words could have. Thank You, God, for the changes You’ve created in me. Thank You for helping me feel worthy of this woman. . . .

  The moment he shut off the ignition, Carrie opened her eyes and smiled in his direction. “Ready?”

  “Yep. Let’s go.” This time he took her hand. He couldn’t help it—she rounded the car and held her hand toward him, an expression of expectation on her face. Before he took it, however, he swiped his own palm down his pantleg to remove any moisture.

  Swinging their hands between them, he guided her to Tower Three, and they rode the elevator to the fifth floor. Their knock on Eileen’s door went unanswered. Rocky consulted his wristwatch. “Hmm. . .I wonder if she met some friends for lunch and is chatting.”

  Carrie released a light laugh. “If so, it may be a while before she returns. Eileen does enjoy visiting.”

  Rocky’s heart pounded. Carrie was right—it could be an hour or more before Eileen returned. Well, no time with Eileen meant no more delays. He might as well get to it. He raised his shoulders in a shrug. “Well, we’re here. Want to. . . go sit on our bench?”

  “Sure.” Carrie slipped her hand into the bend of his elbow. On the elevator she leaned her forehead against his shoulder for a moment, her eyes closed in contentment. Again Rocky was struck with the trust she placed in him. He vowed from that moment forward never to do anything that would make her regret giving him her trust.

  Carrie seated herself on the bench and lifted her face to him. The sun above the flowering pear tree crept between leaves and created dappled shadows across her cheeks. Rocky longed to kiss each splash of shade. He swallowed hard.

  “Are you going to sit down?”

  He gave a start, realizing he still stood beside the bench. “Oh! Yeah, sure, I’ll sit.” Stiffly he bent his knees and perched beside her. He wished his heart would settle down. Any minute it might boom right out of his chest. Maybe he should get this over with; yet he wanted to do things right. Carrie deserved things done right.

  “Rocky, are you okay?”

  The concern in her tone made him reach for her hand. “I’m fine. I’m just. . .” He chuckled, rubbing his finger beneath his nose in an attempt to stop the quiver in his upper lip. “I just want to tell you something, and I’m looking for the right words.”

  “Do you need me to sit quietly and not bother you?”

  He looked into her sweet face, saw the love and acceptance shining in her eyes, and suddenly he knew exactly what to do. Cupping her cheeks with both hands, he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her soft lips.

  She released a little gasp, but then her hands came up to clasp his wrists. Tears appeared, trembling on her thick lower lashes, reminding Rocky of dewdrops on rose petals. He brushed the droplets away with his thumbs.

  “Carrie, I love you. You already knew that, didn’t you?” He heard his husky tone, felt the emotion rumble beneath the words.

  She drew in her breath, her face still held within his palms. Although she didn’t speak, he saw the answer in her eyes. She knew.

  Slowly he released her face. Slipping from the bench, he knelt in front of her and reached into his pocket. His gaze never wavered from her eyes as he removed the little package and began peeling back the paper.

  The slight crackle of tissue paper underscored his words. “Carrie Mays, I believe God has grown a love in my heart for you that will endure throughout eternity. You would make me the happiest man on the planet if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

  From the wad of paper he lifted the slim gold band he’d chosen. Sun filtered through the tree branches overhead, lighting the diamond set within a circle of prongs. Carrie gasped as he took her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger. She stared at the ring, and tears splashed down her cheeks past the curve of her smile.

  Finally she met his gaze, her blue eyes bright with more unshed tears. “I love you, too, Rocky. I would be honored to become your wife.” She slipped from the bench to melt into his arms. They clung, hearts pounding in unison, for long seconds, each absorbing the moment, memorizing it, celebrating it.

  Finally Rocky pulled back to lift her onto the bench once more. He settled himself beside her then lifted her hand to kiss the knuckle of the finger that wore the ring. He held her hand out in front of them and drew in a deep breath. “It looks perfect there.”

  “It is perfect there,” she agreed on a breathy sigh.

  A hint of regret wiggled down his spine as he looked at the simple ring. “Stone’s not as big as I wanted, but—”

  “Don’t ever apologize, Rocky.” She tugged at his hand until he met her gaze. “You chose this for me, and it’s perfect for me. Just as you are perfect for me.”

  He shook his head, the wonder striking again. Carrie. . . Carrie loved him. It was as hard to fathom as God loving him. Yet he accepted it. He drew her into his arms once more. “I love you, Carrie.”

  “I
know.”

  She rested her chin on his shoulder, and although she embraced him he knew only one arm was wrapped around his back. He chuckled. “Are you peeking at that ring?”

  Pulling free, she laughed. “How did you know?”

  He imitated her position, hugging her while extending one arm straight out from her back, which showed her how he’d known. She laughed again, the joy in the laughter making Rocky’s heart skip a beat. He planted another quick kiss on her laughing lips. Taking her hands, he captured her attention.

  “Carrie, I can’t guarantee we’ll live like kings, but I do promise you your needs will always be met.”

  “Oh, I know.” She sighed, her soft smile lighting her eyes. “Rocky, I’ve told you again and again that I have no desire to live like kings. Having my needs met is all I could ask for.” Her smile turned coquettish. “And right now all I need is another kiss.”

  He obliged her willingly, and suddenly the sound of applause intruded. They pulled apart and looked over their shoulders then burst into laughter.

  Lined up on the sidewalk stood Eileen and her boys—John, Martin, and Tim—each smacking their palms together with enthusiasm and smiling brightly enough to rival the sun.

  “Rocky, we saw you kissing!” John covered his mouth with his hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

  Rocky gave Carrie a sheepish look, but she merely shrugged and grinned.

  “Do I hear wedding bells?” Eileen called.

  John looked at her in surprise. “There are no bells, Eileen. That is clapping you hear. Right, Martin and Tim?”

  The other two men nodded solemnly, and Eileen’s laughter joined that of Rocky and Carrie. Taking Carrie by the hand, Rocky jogged across the grass. He wrapped Eileen in a bear hug while Carrie looked on and Eileen’s boys snickered.

  Rocky whispered in Eileen’s ear, “She said yes.”

  And Eileen whispered back, “I’m not surprised. She’s a smart girl—knows a good catch when she sees one.”

  Rocky gave Eileen’s wrinkled cheek a kiss then pulled away to wrap an arm around Carrie’s waist. “Yes, you definitely heard wedding bells,” he announced, “and all of you will be invited to the wedding. Which will be. . . ?” He looked at Carrie.