She folded her arms, clearly not amused.
He blew out his breath. “Look, I know what it’s like to be some place you don’t know very well and need help.”
“I don’t even know you.”
Beau put his hands up. “What do you want to know?”
She shrugged. “Well, you seem to know a lot about types that wait or don’t wait for missionaries—are you a member? Did you serve a mission? How old are you?”
He snorted. She cut to the chase fast. He could appreciate that. “Yes, I am a member. Yes, I served a mission. I am twenty-four.” He paused and reached for his wallet. “Do you want to see my license as proof?”
Sara bit her lip.
“Sara, is that you?”
Two older people walked toward them.
The man stepped forward. “I thought you were already gone.”
Beau looked at Sara. She stood completely still.
“H-hey.” It came out of her like a strangled frog.
The man frowned at Beau. “Is everything okay?”
Sara coughed and nodded.
Beau noted that these people obviously knew her. They could take over. “Her battery’s dead.” He offered.
The man didn’t say anything.
Sara let out a gulp laugh. It sounded strange. “Um, this is my cousin, Beau. He’s going to help me. So we’re good. Thanks.”
Cousin?
The man cocked an eyebrow like he didn’t believe her.
Beau took the cue. He moved next to her and slipped an arm across her shoulders. “Yeah. We’re good. This is what I like to do—save a cousin in need.”
Sara tensed but kept her smile in place.
The woman gave a dangerously evil look to Sara and then she reached for the man. “It seems like they’ve got things handled here, Howard. We better get on the road.”
The man hesitated. “You sure?”
Sara laughed. A clearly fake laugh. “Yep, I am so lucky that he lives here.”
The man let out a sigh and then moved in sync with the woman. “Okay then.”
Sara watched them go.
Beau smelled a lemony fragrance on her. He pulled his arm back. He didn’t want to notice her fragrance.
Sara turned to him. Her face resigned. “I’ll take that help now.”
Beau grinned. “Good. I like my victims compliant.”
Chapter 4
Beau drove down the interstate and let out another light chuckle.
Sara gritted her teeth and reminded herself that she was grateful for his help. “Are we almost there?”
Beau pulled off of the freeway and turned into a small hardware store. “Just like I said, less than fifteen minutes.”
Sara moved to get out.
Beau relaxed into his seat and held up his hand. “I just have one question for you, why the cousin?”
Sara paused, pulling the door shut and trying to keep her emotions in check. He had played along. He probably did deserve an answer. “They don’t like me, and I didn’t want his dad to feel obligated to help me.”
Beau put on a wide-eyed face. “No. It shocks me they don’t like you. You’re so . . . so . . . likeable.”
Sara didn’t appreciate his sarcasm. “Ya know—you’re no picnic yourself.”
Beau sighed and let out another laugh. “Oh, c’mon, tell your cousin what ails you.”
Sara cocked her head to the side, hating him at the moment. “You’re a pig.”
Beau laughed even harder. “I’m just teasing you. Seriously, what is the deal?” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I got all day.”
“All day—coming from Mr. ‘doesn’t it drive you crazy everyone thinks their life is more important’?”
He wagged his finger at her and laughed even harder. “No, no, no. Now that you made me your cousin, all my previous sins are forgiven.”
Letting out her breath, she reluctantly acquiesced. Her father always told her she needed to forgive faster. “Fine, but you need to take back your assessment that I’m that type of girl.”
Beau shook his head. “I can’t take back what I don’t know.”
The smile on his face told Sara that he knew he was pushing a button. She looked out the passenger side window, letting his snarkiness go. He was actually helping her out a lot and she did appreciate it. “Let’s just go in.”
“Wait.” He cleared his throat and furrowed his eyebrows. “Why don’t they like you?”
She hated this. “It’s . . . well . . . I met him on a blind date in Montana. He was working to earn money for his mission by supervising some construction projects for his uncle.”
Beau’s face still held a perplexed look. “So—”
“Anyway, we went out and,” she said and felt her face getting red, “well, it just happened.”
“What happened?”
It sounded so dramatic when she said the words. Her brothers had laughed outright when she’d told them. “We . . . fell in love.”
Beau was silent for a second. “Uh huh. Love? How long have you known him?”
“Well, two months, give or take.”
“Hold on. I’m just getting it straight. So you fell in love two months ago?”
Sara nodded.
“But he’s been in the MTC for a few weeks?”
Sara glared at him. “Look, just shut up.”
Beau coughed to cover another laugh. “Okay, okay—simmer down.”
Sara fumed.
“I just have a question.”
“What?”
“When did you meet his parents for the first time?”
Sara sighed. “Today.”
Beau closed his eyes. “That’s funny.”
Sara decided she couldn’t take any more of his questions. She’d rent a cab back to her car. “Enough.”
Ten minutes later, Sara held out her emergency credit card to the cashier. She’d never had to use it before, but this was definitely an emergency.
Beau slipped next to her and nudged her out of the way. “I got this.”
She nudged him back. She thrust forward her card. “No way.”
He put his arm over her and held his card out. “C’mon, let me help a cousin in need.”
She shoved his arm away. “I am buying it.”
The cashier took her card, snapping her gum and looking annoyed at the whole display between them. She swiped it and handed it back. “It says it’s not activated.”
Sara mentally kicked herself. She rummaged through her wallet for her check card. She wouldn’t have enough to cover the battery. She would have to call her father. “I . . . uh. Hold on a sec.”
Beau handed the cashier his card. “I got it.”
Sara tried to block him from giving the cashier his card. “No.”
Beau put up his hand to block her and gave her a pointed look. “There’s a line here,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s impolite to make people wait.”
The cashier handed back his card and gave him the bag.
Beau stepped out of line and gently pushed the small of her back to get her to move.
Sara reflexively elbowed him, immediately feeling bad.
Beau grabbed at his side. “Oww—that hurt. You have anger problems.”
Sara didn’t want the tears to fall, but she couldn’t help it. She turned away and started walking quickly to the door.
Beau caught up with her. “Did I miss something? You just hurt me. I should be the one crying.”
“Give it to me. I’m returning it and re-buying it.” She grabbed for the bag, wiping her eyes and feeling like a monster.
Beau held the bag back. “Have you ever heard that when someone does something nice for you, you just say thank you?” His voice was final.
His look made her flinch. She thought of how spoiled she was acting.
Beau took off toward the truck and glanced back. “Come on, quit being rude to the guy that just saved you. You’re starting to hurt my ego.” The side of his lifted.
Sara reluctantly followed him. The cab idea sounded better and better, but she admitted to herself that she did need his help—if she didn’t want to worry her father and have her brothers sent out on a 911 mission.
Beau held open the passenger side door and gave her a level stare. “Think you can behave yourself?”
Her anger flared. She hated being treated like a child, but she simply nodded and tried to swallow her pride. She didn’t look at him and the tears inside of her came out in a rush.
Beau climbed in the other side. He put the battery in-between. He shifted into gear and started back to the airport.
Sara couldn’t stop herself. The tears were like a river that couldn’t be plugged.
Beau looked at her and reached for a tissue box. “Dang, woman.”
Sara reflexively laughed at the look of discomfort on his face.
They drove in silence for a while.
Beau sneaked a glance at her from the corner of his eye. “Look, I shouldn’t have teased you in there. I’m sorry.”
Sara laughed, again. She wondered how she’d gotten herself into this crazy episode with a complete stranger. “My dad always says that I’m a desert or a canyon. I hardly ever cry. I’m the youngest girl with three older brothers . . . so it takes a lot. But when I do, I cry and cry and cry. And today, it’s been unlocked inside of me.”
Beau let out a long breath. “Good luck to Jonathon.”
The thought of Jonathon made her cry harder.
“Oh—dear.” Beau looked uncertain.
Sara mopped her cheeks. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m—thank you. Thank you for everything.” She whispered it.
“What?”
The side of his lip turned up. “It’s really hard for you to accept help.” He shook his head.
Sara sighed. “Yeah. It’s—my mom died when I was born and . . .”
Beau glanced at her. “I’m sorry.”
She made little rips in the tissue. “I don’t know why I told you that. Gosh, today has just been the worst day of my life. I’m sorry.”
Beau smiled. “That’s funny. I was just thinking how today might have been the best thing that’s happened to me in quite some time.”
Chapter 5
Fifteen minutes later, Beau parked next to her car. Luckily, no one had taken the spot. They both got out.
Beau took the battery out of the bag.
Sara propped the hood.
He began to succinctly pull out the old battery.
Sara leaned against the car.
“So, you’re waiting for him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why him?”
Sara rolled her eyes. “I told you, I love him.”
“Oh, right, of course.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know exact percentages for girls who actually marry the missionary they are waiting for but—you love him. I’m sure it’ll work out.”
The anger surged inside of her. “You’re going back to that whole I’m not that ‘type’ thing again?
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dare do that, again.” He flashed a teasing smile.
“Whatever.” She let it go. Man, he was annoying.
He procured a tool chest out of his truck. “Why do you love him? I mean, there are lots of reasons girls love missionaries, right. Let’s see . . . he’s spiritual. Or . . . oh, I love this one,” he said, took on a falsetto tone, “he’s my best friend. Or—.” He looked at her and stopped, dropping the antics.
Sara focused a determined gaze at him. “We have a five-year plan.”
Beau frowned. “Sure—a plan. A five-year plan no less.”
Sara didn’t respond to the sarcasm in his voice.
He pulled out the old battery and she took it.
Beau paused. “Convenient he wants you to wait for him. Then you won’t know what you’re missing.”
Sara couldn’t stop herself from slipping into that snotty voice she always used when she was in an argument with her brothers. “If you must know, Jonathon told me that he didn’t want me to wait. He also told me that he wanted me to date as many guys as I could so when he got back I would know that he was the one for me.”
Beau lifted his eyebrows. “Really? As many guys as you can? Wow, now that’s confidence.”
“He should be confident.” She snapped.
Beau put the new battery in and tightened down the wires. “Okay.”
“What?”
He pulled away from her car and gave her a sharp look. “Why don’t you go start your car?”
Sara went to her car. She really hoped it would start so she could leave.
It roared to life, the familiar hum sounding like a beautiful melody in her ears. Her heart immediately lightened. It was fixed. And she wouldn’t have to call her father. She laughed.
Their eyes met. His taunting eyes were replaced with something else. Something happy. “Finally, I did something right.”
Gratitude washed over her. She thought about how the Lord had sent her help. She got out of the car.
He dropped the old battery into the back of his truck. “I’ll take care of this.”
Sara didn’t know why she felt so awkward at this moment, seconds ago she’d wished he would leave and now—she realized she’d never be able to repay what he’d done for her. “Can I get your address?”
Beau turned around, surprise on his face. “Are you asking me out?”
Sara cocked her head to the side. “You wish. I just want to send you a thank you card.”
Beau shook his head. “Well, it was nothin, little lady . . .”
Caught off guard, again, she laughed. “That was a horrible. But—thank you.”
He looked like he was blushing.
She liked the fact he was embarrassed. “I mean it. Thank you.”
He paused. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Okay.”
“I know you have a missionary and a five-year plan, but have fun, too.”
He had the same tone as her father. “Is that all?”
Beau let his breath out. “Just try to do what’s best for you, not just what’s best for the missionary.”
The tension between them thickened, and Sara noticed his blue eyes had a touch of green in them. Her heart fluttered inside of her. She moved to her car door and slipped in. “I better go. But, really, thank you.”
Beau nodded.
Sara rolled down her window. “I guess the John Wayne act does work well for you.”
Beau let out a light laugh. “Yeah. Not really.”
She started to back up. “Thank you.”
He waved. “Drive safe.”
She watched him get smaller in the rear view mirror and wondered why it suddenly made her sad she would never see him again.
Chapter 6
Almost 2 years later
University of Wyoming
Sara entered the Union Building and smiled. Thirty-one days. Thirty-one days until Jonathon would be back. Thirty-one days until her life—would really start.
She strolled into the campus store and picked up a bottle of water. She picked up a copy of the campus paper and a thrill went through her.
Her article. Front page.
Warm hands covered her eyes. “Guess who?”
Sara laughed, knowing it was Carey, her friend and dance partner in their ballroom dance class last semester. He turned her in a circle and pulled her into his arms, laughing, too. “You’re looking good this year, Sara.”
Sara stepped back and put her bag into place on her shoulder, trying not to blush. “Hey, how was your summer?”
He moved beside her. “Could’ve been better, but someone has to work with dear old dad at the family store, right?”
Sara grimaced, feeling a little sad for him. If anyone understood feeling familial pressure to join a business, she did. Her oldest brother James had really put the pressur
e on her before she’d come back to school, telling her they needed her to pitch in and help run the business side of things. She paid for her things and sauntered out of the small store.
He tapped the paper. “Your first article was good.”
Sara relished in the praise. He’d been the one to talk her into writing for the campus newspaper last spring. She motioned for the couches and they sat.
“You know you are one of a select few that know I am Beatrice Fairfax . . . shh.”
“Hey, your secret’s safe with me. But as your editor, I have to claim all the success, too—for spotting your potential. Even though I’ve never understood who Beatrice Fairfax symbolizes.”
Tilting her head to the side, Sara rolled her eyes. “Right, of course, it’s all you, Carey.”
Laughing, he took the other half of her sandwich. “I’ll take this as a symbol of your undying gratitude.”
Sara reached for it, but Carey turned his head away and stuffed the whole half into his mouth.
“You’re such a brat.”
Carey chomped on it, trying not to choke through his laughter.
Sara scoffed. “You’re a thief, and you don’t know who Beatrice Fairfax is—pathetic. And they say that editors know everything.” She smiled, accepting the fact she would never get her sandwich back. “Beatrice Fairfax was the first “Dear Abby” type of columnist at the New York Journal—back in the day.”
“Hmm.” Carey looked her up and down. “I guess this editor just learned something.”
Sara thought of the old couple at the Ivinson Home for the Elderly and smiled to herself. “Hey, are you in for Saturdays? Martha and Larry want to keep up with their lessons. I got the sweetest card from Martha over the summer that asked if we would continue tutoring them.”
Carey shook his head back and forth, frowning. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Sara, my engineering classes are too demanding this semester. I’m going to be spending lots of time studying, and then being the editor doesn’t help my time situation.”
Trying not to go to anger, thoughts of Martha’s silver hair and soft smile was too much for Sara. “Seriously?”
Carey stood, holding her backpack out for her. “Don’t do that, Sara.”
She stood up, grabbing her bag away from him. “What about Martha and Larry? They’re counting on us?”
Mr. Wrong Page 2
