by Dana Mentink
“I don’t doubt it. Your sister is probably over the moon about you.”
He looked suddenly at the floor, arrogance giving way to sharp regret, and she understood she’d said completely the wrong thing. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “No need for you to be sorry. I’m the person responsible for ruining my sister’s life. Good ol’ bazillionaire Rhett Hastings.” Such a mountain of regret, a desert full of longing in that bald statement.
She went to him then, took the towel gently from his hand, and stroked it over his hair, smoothing water from his curls and face, feeling the strong planes of his cheekbones and chin. “We all have sins, Rhett,” she said quietly.
“Some are worse than others.”
Stephanie wasn’t sure if God ranked sins or not. Mrs. Granato would probably know. She’d heard a pastor say there was no hierarchy of wrongs. Sin was sin. It made her feel better about the wedding cake thing. No one else she knew had mowed down a perfectly lovely three-tiered cake. She wondered what the right thing to say to Rhett was. He looked so forlorn, so crushed, and it made her heart ache.
Perhaps a little joke to lighten the mood? A sage snippet from the Bible would probably work, but she didn’t know any. “People make mistakes,” she said, lamely. “All people.”
“Mine wasn’t a mistake, Stephanie.” His chin went up as if he dared her to contradict him. “What I did was shrewdly calculated wickedness. I ruined the man Karen loved. Intentionally. With great satisfaction, as a matter of fact, and I convinced myself every step of the way it was the right thing to do.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Why don’t you?” He looked at her squarely. “You googled me. You know I’m a ruthless man. You know I don’t say nice things, display compassion, or care about people like I should.”
“You helped me catch Sweetness, and you didn’t have to do that. That’s compassion.”
“I was curious more than anything else. You were quite a spectacle in your business suit, thrashing through the bushes.”
“It was more than curiosity. And you didn’t have to give me a ride to Washington.”
“I told you, I need help with Karen. It was a business deal.”
Something inside her stung, yet still she felt the desire to comfort this complicated man in spite of the confusion he caused in her. “Rhett, everyone has sins whether or not they’ll admit to them. Whatever you’ve done—”
“You can’t help me feel better about what I’ve done.” His eyes glimmered with unspoken shame. “I’m a bad man, Stephanie.”
“No,” she wanted to say. She moved close.
He tipped his face to her. “But God can use a bad man for good, can’t He? He has plans to prosper us, all of us—saints, sinners, and everyone in between.” There was an earnest entreaty in his voice that pulsed through her.
Words from so long ago, words she used to believe. Now she was no longer sure. There was no good in Ian’s death, and it had created nothing in her but a black void. Year after year, she couldn’t see that it had resulted in anything but naked grief and her mother’s resolute rejection of God, which had slowly trickled down to her daughter. Their church attendance had always been sporadic, tapering off the busier her father’s accounting job had become. Her mother had been lukewarm about the whole God thing anyway, only sending Ian and Stephanie to Sunday school when they were children. The Pinks were Christmas and Easter church attenders. Then Ian died, and her indifference turned to rage. Emotions clattered around inside Stephanie as she traced the towel along his temple. “The Bible says God has a plan for us all, I guess.”
“God is going to use me to restore Karen’s life, in spite of my sin,” he said, clasping her wrists. The touch was electric, sending sparks up her arm and teasing her skin into prickles. He pressed a kiss into her palm that lingered there, warm and comforting, like a beam of sunshine on a cloudy day. “I’m banking my whole life on it.”
She stood there, transfixed. In the pool of his irises was regret, shame, bitter sorrow, and something more. A gleam of hope and trust that did not quite obliterate the other emotions, but somehow cast a glow that overshadowed them. The situation was beyond absurd, stranger indeed than the oddest work of fiction. Could she really be in a dilapidated trailer with a corporate mogul having a conversation about God’s intentions? It left her speechless.
Rhett squeezed her hand and began easing himself to his feet.
“What are you doing?” she said, trying to press him back down.
He stood anyway, close now, so close she could tilt her head up and kiss him if she wanted to.
Kiss him?
She stood stock-still while he moved his mouth closer to hers. Then he put his lips to her ear. “Thank you, Stephanie, for coming back.”
He eased around her, heading for the front door.
Heart still pounding, she stared. “Rhett, where in the world are you going?”
“You and Agnes have a business deal pending.” He grabbed his baseball cap. “And you’ve lost your Sweetness again. Don’t you want to do something about that?”
Twelve
In spite of the ache in his back and ribs, Rhett helped Stephanie search the perimeter of the warehouse, the foliage along the edge of the parking lot, and underneath every pile of debris that might possibly conceal a massive, ill-behaved dog.
There was no sign of Sweetness.
Stephanie shivered as the sun died away and a watery moon took its place. He looped an arm around her and chafed her delicate shoulders. “We’ll look in the morning.” He searched for something that might comfort. “I’m sure he didn’t go far.”
She shot him a triumphant look. “See? That comment you just made. That’s compassion. You care about Sweetness, don’t you?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Don’t read much into it, Stephanie. It’s business. I’ve got matters to attend to, and your boss isn’t going to be put off forever.”
Stephanie shook her head and snuggled against him. “You try so hard to show your bad side, Rhett, but you can’t fool me.”
For some reason, her comment thrilled him. She thought him a better man than he was. It made him want to be that person for her. He remembered that Karen used to think of him through a rosy lens too. The thought took the edge off his happiness. “I fool most people, Stephanie.”
“I’m not most people.”
Moonlight gleamed in her hair, showing the exquisite contours of her face to perfection. That’s for sure.
“You were kind, sweet even, about me running off and leaving you lying on the ground.”
He wanted to press his mouth to her cheek, to feel the silky perfection of it. Kind and sweet, so not him, unless he was with her. What power did she have over him to bring out a tender side he did not know he had? “I’m full of surprises.”
“Yes, you are.” Her expression was wondering, slightly puzzled.
Rhett shot a surreptitious look at the sky as he released her. The rain was still falling, and Sweetness was no doubt cold and wet. For all his bravado, he was worried about that slobbery dog. Why hadn’t he returned? Had he bolted, like Stephanie, and gone too far to find his way back? He covered the unease in his gut by offering a cavalier, “The dog will be fine. No sense us catching pneumonia over him.”
They slogged back to the trailer and changed into dry clothes. Rhett turned on two lanterns. In between peering out the window every few minutes, Stephanie insisted on making dinner, since the stove was powered by propane. Inwardly, he shuddered at the thought, but she managed some decent grilled cheese sandwiches. White bread moved up the culinary scale a tad when coated with butter and fried in a pan, he was surprised to note.
He checked his phone while she dished it up. A message, just one, the one he had been waiting for. His breathing shallowed out. It was from Paulo.
“I’ll be there Friday at noon. Not doing this for you.” A confirmation Rhett desperately needed. It was coming together. Thank You, God.
He released an enormous sigh, catching Stephanie’s attention.
“Arranged a meeting at Bethany’s place in Oregon on Friday.” He braced himself and forced out the words. “Karen’s former boyfriend, Paulo, is coming.”
She blinked in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t know he was in the picture.”
“He isn’t. He’s been in Peru.”
She stared. “So he hasn’t seen her in…”
“Eight years. I…I caused him to have to leave her.”
Stephanie sat across from him, and he saw the questions in her eyes. “I didn’t think Paulo was good enough for my sister. They started going out when she was just eighteen.”
“And you did something to break them up?”
He coughed and then continued. “I had him deported on a minor infraction. He’d gotten a job here, you see, an under-the-table-type thing, but it wasn’t allowed under his tourist visa.”
She thought for a moment. “I can see how that must have strained things between you and your sister.”
“Severed, more than strained.”
She toyed with her sandwich. “Rhett, can I ask you something that might be uncomfortable?”
He leaned back. “Fire away.”
“Are you sure? It’s none of my business.”
“Go ahead.”
“This decision to buy your sister an orchard and all that. Is it really because you’re being obedient to God? Or are you trying to assuage your guilt?”
Her words stung, piercing right to the core of all his uncertainty. The sensation unsettled him and resulted in the same kind of anger that got him kicked out of high school. “This isn’t about me, Stephanie. It’s about Karen.”
“I know you’re helping her, but I’m wondering if it’s mostly about you, fixing her problem to solve yours.”
He gaped. “Are you saying I’m making this whole thing up in my mind? About hearing from God?”
“No. I was just wondering.”
“About what?”
She shrugged. “It sounds like a business plan, all these things you’ve arranged. Or a plot device in my line of work. A contrived way to keep the plans moving forward.” She checked the items off on her fingers. “Buy land. Arrange for Paulo’s return. Settle reunited couple onto family apple orchard. And then what?”
“I haven’t thought that out yet.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Seems like you’ve got all the other details banged out.”
He looked at his hands, fingers laced together.
“All I’m saying is maybe you got it wrong. If it was God prompting you—”
“It was.”
“Okay, so maybe God was trying to change your life, not just Karen’s.”
“I think walking away from my corporation qualifies as changing my life.”
“True.”
Her calm perusal infuriated him. What right had this mixed-up young woman to question his motives? “And you’re some kind of expert in listening to God?”
“No. He and I don’t talk.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to hear what He has to say. I don’t want Him involved in my life.”
“So you’re just following your own marching orders. I get it. I did that for most of my life, but I’m finally making a different choice.”
She met his eyes, but her doubtful expression exasperated him. “I’m not doing all this for me.” He snorted. “Actually, maybe that should be your slogan.”
“What does that mean?”
“This being an agent thing. Is it what you’re meant to do? Or is it a way of keeping your brother’s memory alive?”
She stiffened, and he knew he’d cut her to the quick.
“Ian and I made a dream together. He’s gone, but the dream doesn’t have to be.”
“And it doesn’t have to be your life’s work to preserve a plan your brother cooked up when you were teens, either. You aren’t frozen there, in that time, just because he died then.”
Her mouth trembled, and he thought for one terrifying moment that she might cry. “It seems sometimes like I am.”
The moment stretched out, taut and tense. He should apologize. Immediately. Bringing up her dead brother just because his pride was wounded. Apologize, you big idiot. His pride would not allow it. Instead, he sat up straighter, staring right back at her in the way that sent his business rivals packing. “This adventure is not a business plan of mine. It’s an act of obedience. God is giving me an opportunity to help my sister. It’s about her, bottom line.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Is it God’s bottom line?”
He got up. “Thanks for the sandwich. I’m going to eat it later. You don’t mind if I sleep on the sofa in the living room tonight, do you? Truck gets a little cold.”
“Rhett,” she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I apologize if I offended you,” she said softly. “I’m certainly not in a position to dole out advice about God’s plans. It was wrong. I was curious, that’s all, about your motivation.” She shook her head and released him.
He immediately missed her touch. “Don’t sweat it.”
“I spend my time hanging out with fictional characters, and we literary types are always analyzing motivation and what causes characters to do what they do. I’m sorry. I sometimes get my fiction and reality confused.”
“No offense taken.”
“Are you sure? You don’t look offended, but your face is blank, like you’re wearing a mask or something.”
He forced a smile. “I’m sure. I can handle a pointed question or two. I’ve been skewered with way worse. And…” An odd feeling boiled up in his gut, “and I shouldn’t have brought that up about your brother.”
Her mouth quirked. “Is that an apology from the ruthless Rhett Hastings?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Then you’re supposed to say, ‘I’m sorry. I’m a big, fat blubber head.’”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry. That’s all you’ll get from me.”
“It’s a start, Blubber Head.”
She grasped his forearm, and he covered her hand with his. In that second of contact, his ill will vanished, and he hugged her.
She forgave him. Just like that, in spite of his cruelty. He’d read all about forgiveness, and here he was, the man who professed to be following God, accepting forgiveness from a woman who only remembered Bible stories from her Sunday school class and was giving God the silent treatment. Confused, he released her and looked out the window. “I’ll take a walk later to see if I can spot your runaway dog.”
“Okay. I’ll keep the front door propped open a little in case he comes back.” She blew out a breath. “You don’t think he’s going to get cold out there?”
“He has a fur coat. He’ll be okay until morning. Thanks for the sandwich.”
She smiled. “Anytime.”
He walked into the living room and eased himself down onto the couch, staring at the water-stained ceiling. Her comment still circled in his mind as he wriggled around to find a comfortable position.
Is it really because you’re being obedient to God? Or are you trying to assuage your guilt?
It was both, of course. He’d felt the call of the idea taking root in the days after Karen’s accident when he’d read the Bible in fits and starts during long, sleepless nights. He’d experienced the truth of it seeping into his soul like rainwater into parched ground. God meant for Rhett to start a new life for Karen, and He provided a miraculous opportunity for him to do so. The apple orchard was up for sale. Karen’s injury left her desperately in need of help. Armed with those facts, Rhett built his plan with all the precision of an intricate corporate merger and every step was falling into place, which surely meant God was blessing it. Didn’t it? The latest detail was Paulo, who would shortly return, one wrong righted. Another step toward the ultimate goal.
Would his guilt be eased along the way?
It would be a blessing bey
ond measure to have that thorn extracted from his heart. But this was for Karen and Paulo. For them, not for Rhett.
All I’m saying is maybe God was trying to change your life, not just Karen’s.
Wasn’t walking away from his company enough of a change? Retrofitting an orchard? He threw a hand over his eyes. Still Stephanie’s question poked at him.
And then what?
After the dust settled and he’d gotten Karen and Paulo settled into their new lives, then what?
Stephanie was right. He had made a plan for that too.
“God,” he prayed. “I know this is all from You. It’s about Karen.” He prayed about his sister and humbly asked for the strength to put the rest of his plan into action. And he offered up one more prayer, for Stephanie and the runaway Sweetness.
The minutes ticked by slowly for Stephanie. She’d elected to sit in the kitchen where she could keep a close eye on the door instead of going up to bed, but it was nearing one a.m. and Sweetness had not made his return. Eyes burning, she rubbed at them. Fifteen more minutes and she’d give up and go to bed.
What would she do if Sweetness never turned up? What if he’d found some other family to glom onto? Or been run over? Or eaten by wolves? There were probably scores of wolves on this wild coast. He was just the sort of dog who would have no idea how to defend himself. Poor Sweetness. Poor, silly dog.
And with Sweetness gone, would that be the end of Ian’s dream? Their dream, she corrected.
Rhett was right in a way. She felt that her soul was tacked to that dark time when Ian died, like a butterfly affixed with a pin in some dusty, glass-enclosed specimen case. But what Rhett didn’t understand was that Agnes’s manuscript was the key to her freedom. She was so close to attaining the sparkling goal that she’d yearned for all those years as she hung on that pin. Literary Agent Pink would arrive, the beginning of her story and Ian’s completely revised and resolved, ready to write the next chapter. Was that God’s bottom line for her? She impatiently brushed the hair from her face. It didn’t matter. It was her bottom line, and that was all that mattered. Rhett could follow God to the ends of the earth, but Stephanie sure wasn’t going to.
