Undeniably Yours

by Becky Wade

  “You’re so sweet.” Her lips curved.

  He crossed to her, took her chin in his hand, and kissed her. “You’re sweeter.”

  “No, you.”

  “You.”

  “Can’t you stay?” She blinked up at him, her young face gullible, fresh, and free of wrinkles. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

  “I wish I could. I’ve got to get to work. Call you later, all right?”

  “All right.”

  “Get some more sleep.” He gave her one of his patented smiles. The sexy, admiring one. Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

  In the kitchen, he opened her purse, extracted her wallet, and flipped to her driver’s license. He jotted down the info from it on a magnetic pad stuck to her refrigerator. He tore the top sheet free, folded it neatly, and stuck it in his shirt pocket.

  He’d check her out fully on his Mac later.

  He cracked open the portion of her wallet that contained cash. Forty-three dollars. He’d do a heck of a lot better off her before he was done. Smoothly, he closed the wallet and returned it to her purse.

  In the foyer he caught a glimpse of a framed family photo of the girl with her adult siblings and her parents. Probably last year’s Christmas card shot.

  He grunted and made his way into the cool, clear morning. He’d met this girl just hours ago, but he already knew everything pertinent about her, because he’d known a hundred others like her. She was a slutty, well-meaning, harmless girl-next-door. She saw herself as unique, which she wasn’t, and brave, which she wasn’t. In actuality, she was a pathetic rule follower, exactly like the rest of them.

  Rule followers deserved to get taken by those smarter and those willing to break, bend, and twist the rules.

  He slid into his BMW M5 and steered along the streets of Phoenix. He’d chosen this city because casinos, like desert cactus, flourished in these parts. And casinos offered him easy access to the excitement and risk he required.

  He couldn’t do monotony. Monotony made him twitch.

  He pulled up smoothly to a stoplight. A woman in a black Mustang convertible came up next to him, caught his eye, and grinned. Stephen grinned back, while assessing her with a complete lack of emotion.

  In this world you were either a victim or a conqueror.

  Stephen McIntyre was no victim.

  The morning after Amber’s arrival, Meg attended Sunday morning worship, then returned to the solitude of the guesthouse to find acid reflux and worry waiting to greet her. It didn’t make sense. She’d just been to church, and after all the songs, the encouragement, and the prayers, she ought to feel steady. But she’d discovered through the years that her panic came when it wanted, regardless of cause, and never listened to logic.

  Supposedly, exercise reduced stress.

  Apparently, in her case, so did proximity to Bo Porter.

  If she’d had a choice between medicating herself with exercise and medicating herself with the cowboy, she’d have chosen calm-via-Bo hands down. But he had Sundays off. And when sudoku and breathing techniques proved useless, she dressed resolutely in a pale gray sweat suit, crunched more antacids, and headed to her father’s home gym. Within, cardio machines stood like soldiers in straight formation. Several racks of weights lined one wall. Benches, balls, and stretchy bands took up a corner. Mirrors glared at her from every angle.

  Okay . . . hmm. She immediately rejected the idea of using the weights, the balls, or the bands. She had no idea what to do with any of them. She supposed she could hire a personal trainer for next time. Except she didn’t particularly want some uber-fit person demanding that she work harder than she wanted to, leading her around, and staring at her during her workout agony.

  So maybe not.

  After grabbing a clean towel from the stack and turning the TV to the History Channel, she climbed aboard the elliptical machine. Unsure of the settings, she chose a small incline and a small amount of resistance.

  First and foremost, she craved exercise’s anxiety-killing benefits. But it wouldn’t hurt her to lose five pounds, either. Since her father’s death she’d been so overworked emotionally that she’d been inactive physically. One would have thought that all her fretting and her dodgy stomach would have kept the weight off. But alas, no.

  Almost immediately Meg started to puff. She tried valiantly to focus her attention on the large wall-mounted TV screen. But the general torture of cardio proved a slight distraction to her viewing pleasure.

  Her heart rate must be impressively high! She gripped the metal pads, then checked the digital heart-rate display.

  It read 130.

  130?! Not possible. She was dying. She didn’t know much about target heart rates, except that a twenty-eight-year-old’s rate should be a lot higher than 130 in order to achieve maximum benefits.

  She didn’t think she could push her heart rate higher without passing out.

  She thought of her nine female cousins on her mother’s side of the family and tried to use them as motivation. She’d see them all on Easter, and it would be so nice to look slim in the face of their gorgeous and stylish skinniness. Her cousins had all been born naturally fabulous, while Meg had to spend ages on her hair and makeup and carefully monitor her intake of Oreos.

  Maybe she should give up Oreos.

  Her heart gave a protesting twang. Was life worth living without Oreos?

  While her gaze clung to the TV, she thought about Bo and the ranch. Her overwhelming responsibilities at Cole Oil. Amber and Jayden.

  After Amber had agreed to stay last night, Meg and Lynn had given her an abbreviated tour of the big house. Since every bedroom stood empty, Meg had assured her she could stay in any one of them. Amber, who preferred to sleep in the same room as Jayden, had chosen a second-floor bedroom in shades of sage green located close to the central staircase. They’d carried in her small suitcase, Jayden’s diaper bag, and a portable folding crib. And that had been that.

  Meg didn’t know what to do about Amber and Jayden next, which step to take, what kind of help to offer. An idea had been circling inside of her since late yesterday evening, but it scared her as much as it appealed. What do you want me to do about them, Lord? If you’ll show me, I’ll do my very best to follow through.

  She wiped at the sweat on her forehead and cheeks with her towel. Her heart thundered with effort, her breathing labored in and out of her parted lips.

  Panic attacks might be preferable to this.

  She considered stopping.

  But in the end, her desire to make herself stronger trumped her desire to quit. She needed, really needed, to prove to herself that she could be tough, that beneath all the trembling and fear she still had courage and she still had willpower. She blew a blond tendril of hair out of her face and kept on going.

  After surviving thirty minutes on the elliptical, Meg treated herself to ten minutes of stretching, pounded back a bottle of water, grabbed a second bottle from the mini-fridge in the gym, and went in search of Amber.

  She found her standing at the edge of the big house’s manicured back lawn, watching Jayden run and explore.

  Amber turned, her expression warming when she saw Meg. “Hi.” She had on her flip-flops, a snug pair of jeans, and a turquoise scoop-neck T. Her shiny hair hung down her back.

  “How did y’all sleep?” Meg asked.

  “We had the best night’s sleep we’ve had in forever.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “That bed . . . oh my gosh. Is it a pillow-top?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s so awesome that it must be a pillow-top.”

  Meg accepted the pronouncement with a nod and watched Jayden bend over to sniff a blazing white azalea bush.

  “We woke up this morning,” Amber said, “and one of the ladies who works here had breakfast waiting for us, and coffee, and offered to do our laundry. I didn’t know what to say, so I let her feed us and gave her our dirty clothes. I hope that was okay.”

>   “More than okay.”

  “Well, thank you. And sorry again about arriving like that last night. Jayden and I aren’t half so mental today.”

  Meg smiled. “I’m mental now and then, too, so I completely understand.”

  “If it’s all right with you, I thought I’d let Jayden have his nap here. Then we’ll pack up and head out this afternoon.”

  “I’d like to talk to you about that, actually.”

  “Oh?” Amber slanted her a look of surprise.

  “How about we sit down?”

  “Sure.”

  Meg led her to one of the tables positioned along the back patio. They each took a chair shaded by a wood and canvas umbrella. A vase brimming with flowers cut from Whispering Creek’s garden decorated the tabletop.

  Both women kept an eye on Jayden as he moved to the steps leading from lawn to patio and practiced climbing.

  Meg caught herself fidgeting with her water bottle and brought both hands to her lap. “I’d really like to know what happened with Stephen. That is, if you don’t mind telling me.”

  “I don’t mind—careful, Jayden!” Amber pushed to the front of her seat, but it appeared that Jayden could navigate the four wide steps safely, so she scooted back a few inches. “I met Stephen at one of the restaurants where I was waitressing. I fell for him right away. I mean hard, you know? He moved in with me after a couple of months and, like, two months after that I found out I was pregnant. Total surprise. It sure wasn’t like I’d planned it. I told him the news, and the next morning he left for work and never came back.”

  “You never saw him or heard from him again?”

  “No, nothing. He just . . . disappeared.” Amber’s gaze remained mostly trained on her son as she spoke, her fingers nervously picking at the peeling blue nail polish on her thumb. “At first I thought something had happened, that he’d been in an accident. I kept checking with the police and the hospitals. Then I thought maybe he’d needed to leave for a while, but that he’d have a good reason and he’d come back. He didn’t come back. He left me on purpose.”

  “He did the exact same thing to me,” Meg said. “Vanished.”

  “And you couldn’t find him either?”

  “I didn’t try. I didn’t want to find him.”

  Amber searched Meg’s face until a squeal from Jayden drew their attention. He’d returned to the grass and appeared to be attempting toddler yoga—his head plunked down and one leg pointing high in the air.

  “Stephen is such a jerk.” Amber shook her head, scowling. “Such a jerk.”

  “Yes.” Wild understatement.

  “But unlike you, I do want to find him. Badly.”

  “Because you need help with Jayden.”

  “Yes. Also, I just . . . well, I’d like to find him for my sake, too. I want to look him in the face and tell him off. I’m mad. You know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not sure where to look for him next. Can you think of anyone who might know where he is?”

  “No, I never met his family. He told me he’d grown up in foster care.”

  “He told me his family lived overseas.”

  “That figures.” Stephen’s lies had turned out to be the only consistent thing about him. Meg could almost taste her resentment toward him, rising and filling her mouth with a bitter, metallic tang. “He’s smart, moves around a lot, and always covers his tracks. I’m afraid that it’s going to be hard for anyone to find him if he doesn’t want to be found.”

  “I have to find him. I don’t have a choice.”

  Jayden zipped across the patio and pulled himself onto a lounge chair. He tried to stand up on it, his arms outstretched as if riding a surfboard.

  Amber raced over, scooped him up, and placed him back on the grass before returning to her chair.

  “Do you have any family?” Meg asked carefully. “Could you turn to them for help?”

  Amber’s lips tightened. “Not an option. My parents and I don’t speak anymore. We had a big fight after I graduated from high school, and I haven’t seen them since.”

  “I’m sorry.” Meg tried to imagine what it would have been like to strike out into the world alone at eighteen without money or education.

  God? Internally, she asked Him several questions at once, seeking confirmation even though she sensed that she already knew what He wanted.

  Yes, a voice within her seemed to answer.

  A feeling of rightness expanded through Meg. “I’d like to help you.”

  “You already have.”

  “I’d like to do more.”

  Meg’s words caught Amber’s full attention.

  “I’d like for you and Jayden to stay here until you get back on your feet. I’d like to help you find a job and child care.”

  Amber gaped at her, face blank, dark eyeliner framing wide eyes.

  “Do you have any college credits?” Meg asked.

  “Like, um . . . fifteen hours. From before Jayden was born.”

  “Are you interested in getting a college degree?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind?”

  “I’d like to be a nurse one day. I’ve always wanted to be a nurse.” Jayden ran up, and Amber swept him into her lap. He deposited a handful of pebbles, two twigs, and a leaf onto the top of the table, then went to work examining his treasures.

  “Then you should be a nurse,” Meg said. “I’ll look into the possibility of getting you enrolled for the summer session at Collin County Community College.”

  Amber bit her lip, released it. “I want to take classes, but I don’t have time. I work, and when I’m done working, I take care of Jayden.”

  “Then you’ll work part time and go to school part time and take care of Jayden the rest of the time.”

  “I can’t afford to pay for day care and college on a part-time salary.”

  “But I can.” For the first time since hearing the news of her father’s death, a ray of warm bright joy burst open within Meg. Her lips bowed, and she could feel her dimples digging into her cheeks. She’d done the right thing just now. She hardly knew Amber, and yet inviting her to stay at Whispering Creek felt more right to Meg than anything had in months.

  From his mother’s lap, Jayden peered at Meg warily, his baby eyebrows low. He looked nothing like Stephen. If he had, he’d have been blond and gorgeous. Instead, with his large head and widely spaced eyes, Jayden didn’t even quite classify as cute—a fact that only endeared him to Meg’s soft heart.

  Amber smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll never be able to pay you back.”

  “It’s not a loan, Amber. It’s a gift.” She thought immediately of the grace that God had given to her. “I’ve received plenty in my life that I didn’t earn. All this, for example.” She gestured toward the big house. “So do me a favor and let me give you something. All right?”

  Amber’s blue eyes filled with doubt and tears. “I’ve made so many mistakes. I don’t deserve your help.”

  “This isn’t about what you deserve.”

  “I can’t believe you’d do this for us. We’re, like, strangers to you.”

  “Even so, it would make me happy for you to stay.” Meg found that it was true. Maybe because she and Amber had both been mistreated by the same man, or maybe because she felt partially to blame for what Stephen had done to them. Or maybe because the Spirit inside of her had a capacity for compassion and affection bigger than her own.

  “I . . .” A droplet spilled over Amber’s lashes.

  Meg had always found it physically impossible to witness someone else’s tears and not cry, too. Her own chest tightened with emotion. “This place might look shabby,” she joked, “but it’s actually not too bad of a place to live. I think you and Jayden might be able to manage.”

  Amber burst out laughing, and Meg joined her. Jayden laughed, too, banging his tiny fists on the table and causing the pebbles to jump.

  “Are you sure?” Amber asked.

 
“Yes. If you’re willing to do your part—to work hard at school and at your job—then I promise I’ll keep up my end of the bargain.” It was time to take her father’s money out for a test drive to see how it performed. “Okay?”

  Amber looked at her for a long moment. “Okay.”

  Bo had been on his way to his parents’ house after church when he’d made a sudden U-turn, a U-turn that had brought him here, to the mansion at Whispering Creek for lunch.

  He’d bailed on the meal his mom hosted every Sunday for the family, which would cost him.

  He was showing up unannounced for a meal, which wasn’t polite.

  And after he finished eating, he was going to have to work on his one day off, to justify showing up for lunch.

  All of which would be worth it if Meg was there.

  He wanted to see her.

  Just that. See her.

  He wanted it enough, had thought about it enough since her visit to the farm, that he’d taken that U-turn. The sane part of him knew that nothing good could come of spending time with Meg above and beyond what his job required. It would only fuel his fascination with her and cause him—the guy who could never be more to her than her horse farm manager—pointless pain.

  However, the insane part of him insisted that, the situation being what it was, one little lunch together couldn’t do much harm.

  The insane part of him had beaten the sane part of him to a pulp. So here he was.

  He rounded the corner from the hallway into the kitchen and found the space empty except for an unfamiliar maid pulling a pot roast out of the oven. She didn’t speak much English, but she smiled and set him a place at the table and waved off his apology for arriving without prior notice.

  When he’d come to work at Whispering Creek, Lynn had invited him to join her and the other employees in the kitchen for their daily lunches. Over the years, he’d only taken her up on her offer a couple of times. It had almost always been easier to eat with his brother in one of the warm rooms in the barns.

  He walked over to the table and stood with his hands pushed into the pockets of his jeans. Six adult plates waited. He could only hope one belonged to Meg, since he had no idea whether she ate with her staff. One plastic blue plate also sat on the table, in front of a high chair and next to a cup with a screw-on lid.