Mr. Wrong

by Taryn A. Taylor

  “It’s hard to say. Your father’s body is shutting down. He’s been in so much pain, but the morphine has helped him quite a bit. Sometimes, when a person is in a ton of pain, their body’s adrenaline feeds the organs, keeping them alive longer. He refused it until we told him you were coming home.”

  Sara felt sick to her stomach.

  “How long do you think?”

  Rosie sighed. “I don’t know, two or three days maybe.”

  Sara turned and opened her bag. “You can go. I’ll just unpack my things.”

  Rosie left, and Sara quickly arranged her clothes where they belonged. She heard gravel turning and looked out of her window to the driveway. Beau was leaving the ranch.

  Her brother, Mark, knocked softly and walked into the room. “Sara.”

  Sara turned and fell into his arms. He was the third brother, the closest to her age and the closest to her. “He told me he had a message from mama.” She pulled back from him and saw the tears and anguish mirrored in his eyes.

  “He’s been saying things like that a lot lately. I’m happy for him.” Mark choked and more tears squeezed out of his eyes. “I’m happy that he has her to go home to.” He let Sara go and wiped his eyes, looking out of the window. “I just wish he wasn’t going yet, ya know.”

  Sara felt her heart breaking. She knew. She walked beside him and put her hand on his back. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here.”

  Mark turned and took her hand back in his own. “No. You needed to be there; that’s the way dad wanted it. Don’t you feel guilty about that, Sara.” He put both of his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Don’t you dare feel guilty about that.”

  Sara nodded and cried some more, leaning into his chest.

  The next morning Rosie nudged her awake in the chair beside her father’s bed. “Hospice is here to help me change the drip and get him cleaned up for the day.”

  Sara stood, running her hand over her scratchy eyes. She nodded. “He didn’t wake up at all last night.”

  Rosie placed her hand on Sara’s shoulder. “I know. Why don’t you go shower and have some breakfast. You haven’t been downstairs since you got here.”

  Sara walked to her room in a daze and got some clean clothes out. She showered and dressed quickly wanting to eat and get back to her father by the time they were done.

  She walked into the kitchen and stopped short seeing Beau at the table. James was sipping some juice. “Good morning, Sara. How is he?”

  She looked at James and glared, feeling betrayed. “Why don’t you go see for yourself?” Sara walked to the fridge and pulled the milk out.

  James cleared his throat. “I apologize for my sister’s rudeness. She’s never been easy.”

  Beau stood. “I’ll go.”

  Sara felt her face turn red. “You mean easy for me to bulldoze? I’m sorry I didn’t stay to cook your meals and do your laundry, James.”

  “I never wanted that.” His jawline was firm. “I just wanted you to be a part of this . . . of us.” He swept his hand toward the ranch.

  It had been the debate older than time between them. James had always pulled the family together, trying to make her brothers all work together. She knew it wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t the life she wanted to lead. “You’ve tried to force me, James.” She thought of their neighbor, Cal Livingston, and how James had even tried to set them up when she was younger because he thought it would be a good marriage for the ranch.

  James stood, squeezing his lips together. “I’ve seen the kind of business woman you are, Sara. I wanted you to help me. I wanted this to keep us all together after . . .” He looked up the stairs. “After he’s gone.”

  They both stood there, posed for battle. Tim and Mark walked through the kitchen door, the screen clanking shut.

  “What’s all this?” Tim frowned looking between Sara and James. He always tried to be the peacemaker.

  “I was just going.” Beau started to walk around the table.

  “No.” James put out his hand to stop him. “There will be no better time. Sit down everyone.” He stared back at Sara.

  Sara paused, then went to a chair and sat. The rest of them followed.

  James looked at all of them. “You all know that the ranch is not doing well. Dad has been talking to us for a lot of years about finding an alternative way to make money with the land besides cattle.” He pointed to Beau. “Mr. Hennings here has hooked us up with a surveying company that will test our land for oil. It will be minimally invasive and, hopefully, pump money back into this ranch we love.” He paused, squeezing his eyes together. Sighing he opened his eyes and turned to Tim and Mark. “I’ve realized lately, he said glancing at Sara, “that I may have been a little pushy about us all staying together and working the ranch. If you want out, say the word.”

  Tim cleared his throat. “My home’s here. We’re having our first baby in two months.” He looked at James. “I’m in.”

  James turned to Mark. James and Mark often butted heads, with James accusing Mark of being irresponsible when their differing ideas led to fighting. Mark was by no means as agreeable as Tim, but he had more of a fun-loving spirit, and he forgave quickly. “I don’t know. I might like to pursue other dreams.” He grinned at Sara. “Like hitchhiking across the United States and camping on the beaches in California.”

  Sara laughed unexpectantly. She and Mark had often lain together looking at clouds, and Sara had told him when she was sixteen that was what she wanted to do.

  James cracked a smile looking between them. His eyes got moist and the tension between all of them seemed to melt away. “I love you guys. Life is too short to be fighting all the time.” He looked at Sara. “And, more than I want us all to work together, I want us all to be happy together—even if that’s only at Christmas.”

  Sara softened and reached out to put her hand over his, realizing that keeping the ranch was not an easy job. “Or the Fourth of July. That is my favorite holiday.”

  James nodded, squeezing her hand and then releasing it.

  Sara leaned forward. “Let’s look at the details of this leasing idea. How do the mineral rights work? I assume since we’re leasing, we wouldn’t have to give anything up.” She looked at Beau.

  Beau cleared his throat. “Nope.” Beau pointed to the document on the table. “I had my attorney look this over for you all, and you are simply agreeing to exploration and leasing of the land. No first children have to be given up.” He smiled at Tim.

  Tim smiled back. “Giving up a child would be bad.”

  James looked at Sara. “What do you think?”

  Sara folded her arms. “I’ve actually been thinking about it since Beau mentioned it to me a while ago. I do think it would be a win-win for us. I guess we’d just have to hope they find something. I love this ranch too. I think all of us would need to sign an agreement that any income from the oil could go back into the ranch until you start seeing a profit, then dividends would be appropriate.”

  James smiled, nodding. “Look at you, little sister.”

  Mark laughed. “Look at this, Tim, we’re all getting along.”

  Tim nodded soberly. “Would you all mind if we go to dad and have a family prayer with him?” His eyes were filled with tears.

  Sara suddenly felt sober too. Tim had always been the most spiritual of all of them.

  “Great idea.” James stood, turning to shake Beau’s hand. “Thank you so much.” He turned to Sara. “I promised Mr. Hennings that you would make good on my promise of showing him around later.”

  Sara’s stomach clenched in anger for a minute and then she shrugged, not wanting to argue.

  “It’s not a problem.” Beau waved his hand in dismissal and his face reddened. “I have some business to take care of.”

  Sara grudgingly admitted to herself that he was saving her again. “Come back in two hours.”

  Chapter 17

  Beau stepped through the gap in the barn door. Sara didn’t
look at him. The barn wasn’t huge, but it had a loft up top and enough space for a few horses and animals. Beau could picture Sara spending a lot of time here growing up.

  “Is this the place you go?” He picked his way across the hay, his eyes acclimating to the shadows.

  Sara looked focused on giving the horse even strokes with the brush. Her hair was pulled back, and she had on some worn jeans and a red t-shirt. Beau thought she looked younger, probably exactly how she looked every morning growing up, before taking her horse for a ride. The brush strokes seemed to calm her.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She bent lower to move down the horse’s thighs.

  “Mine is the mountains.” Beau cautiously stepped behind her and started petting long strokes down the horse’s back too. “What’s her name?” Beau had spent many hours on his uncle’s ranch mucking out stalls and tending to the horses. It wasn’t really his passion, but he had always found peacefulness in it.

  Sara still focused on the horse. “Sunfire.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I got her when I was fifteen and my dad said, “That horse has the sunniest disposition I’ve ever seen.” She shrugged and the tears spilt down her face. “And after a few days of messing around with her name, I thought Sunfire fit.” She smiled and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Maybe because I wanted her to be fast.” She laughed harder. “My dad always told me that I would light the world on fire someday and wouldn’t need Sunfire’s help—that I had a fire all my own.”

  Beau leaned back against the stall and folded his arms. “It’s nice to see you smile, Sara.” He couldn’t help wanting to ease her grief, but he could tell she didn’t want that from him. “Are you holding up okay?”

  She shrugged and focused on Sunfire again. After a couple of minutes she smiled again. “Thank you, by the way.” She cleared her throat. “And I’m sorry.” Her eyes looked repentant.

  It was Beau’s turn to shrug. He watched her and wondered, again, why he was here. He knew she had promised herself to Jonathon two years ago. And he knew that it seemed like most of the time she hardly even liked him. But . . . there was something about her. He liked her warmth and her rude exterior that really seemed to hide her soft side. He liked her vulnerability and her desire to save the world. And . . . he couldn’t deny there was chemistry between them.

  “Why did you come here, Beau?” Sara turned and looked at him over her shoulder.

  “Business.” He knew his answer sounded unbelievable. He had met with some other investors that his friend had set him up with. It was kind of the truth.

  Sara didn’t respond but seemed to be mulling something over. “I was thinking that I don’t really know anything about you.”

  Beau felt his stomach tighten. He didn’t know how much he wanted her to know. He still felt a prickling of guilt within his heart. “I’m sure you’ve read my bio.” He kicked the dirt and started meandering around the stall, images of his uncle’s ranch assaulting him.

  She turned and narrowed her eyes in, what appeared to be, deep thought. “Do you like horses?”

  He stepped forward, running his hand easily down Sunfire. “What’s not to like? When I worked my uncle’s ranch, my favorite part was exercising the horses.”

  “Hmm.” She scrunched her nose up at him. “What’s your favorite color?”

  Beau laughed, a little surprised at the question, but liking the easiness of the conversation. “Blue.”

  “Not surprising.” She grinned to herself. “What’s your favorite season?”

  Beau stepped closer to Sara, still rubbing Sunfire’s back in gentle strokes. “That’s easy—fall.”

  Sara stopped and stepped into Beau’s space. He tried to hold his ground, intrigued at her sudden interest. “Why don’t you think it’s a good idea to provide wheelchairs to disabled, disenfranchised people?” He felt her breath on his lips.

  “I think it’s a good idea on principle.” His heart was beating faster. “I think it’s a bad business idea.”

  Sara glared at him with intensity. “I could make it work, Beau.”

  “I think that you think you could make it work.” He tried not to sound too arrogant.

  She bit her lip and turned away from him. “Oh—what’s the point? Life just ends—right? We go along doing our daily things and bam—you’ve got cancer—bam, you get hit by a car—bam, children get killed all the time for no reason at all.” Hysteria started washing over her, like a wave that was building momentum for a tsunami. “And no one cares. No one cares!” She was shouting at Beau now.

  Beau grabbed both of her elbows and shook her a little. “He cares, Sara. The Lord cares.” He tried to look deep into her eyes and pull her back to sanity by sheer will.

  Collapsing against him, she cried. Beau held onto her trying to provide a soft landing place for this mini breakdown. “Shh. He knows your pain. You can rely on Him. He tells us to come to Him and He will give us peace . . . not as the world gives it—but the way we need it. Let yourself feel his peace, Sara.” Beau whispered to her, like he would have calmed a child. He knew what it was like to feel fragile and on the edge of a breakdown. He’d been through it—and it hadn’t gone so well for him at the time.

  “Sara!” Mark busted through the barn doors. “It’s happening. You’ve got to come.”

  **

  They were all there. Her dad’s bed was elevated.

  “She’s here, Dad.” James rubbed his hand over his head gently.

  Her dad opened his eyes. “Your mother says she loves you all. She sent me back to tell you.” His voice was raspy, but one side of his mouth tried to smile.

  Sara felt The Spirit enfold them, like the slow warmth from a camp fire. They each took the hand next to them.

  “We love both of you, Daddy.” Sara broke her grip with Mark and softly touched her dad’s paper skin.

  James, Tim, and Mark all followed her suit, telling him they loved him. Her dad closed his eyes and let go. It felt almost peaceful to Sara, like a bird being set free.

  Mark knelt beside the bed and cried. Sara and James and Tim understood the tough relationship Mark had always shared with their father. It was a lot like the relationship Mark and Sara had with James: push-pull, love-hate. And now . . . it was over.

  “It’s all right, brother,” James stepped to pat his shoulder. “He knew you loved him.”

  The funeral was two days later. Sara hadn’t seen Beau since she’d left the barn and thought he’d flown back to Laramie. She wasn’t surprised, though, when he stood next to her at the graveside service.

  “Thanks for coming.” She didn’t know why it felt like he belonged with them. Maybe because he was part of trying to save a land that her father had cherished so much.

  After the dedication, James, Tim, and Mark shook Beau’s hand and Sara mingled with some longtime family friends. When she finally headed to the car, he was there, waiting for her.

  “It seems like you’re making it a habit . . . waiting for me by the car.”

  He opened her door for her and went around the other side. “I told your brothers I would see you home.”

  Sara sighed, sitting back into her seat. “Thanks.” Exhaustion from the day threatened to consume her.

  Beau turned to her. “I’m sorry I bulldozed you. I shouldn’t have just assumed I could step in.”

  Sara looked at him skeptically and smiled. “No you’re not,” she whispered it.

  Beau raised his eyebrows. “It was all about business. I’ve been working the past two days.” He smiled.

  “Uh huh.” She let out a deep breath, feeling the relief of everything begin to wash over her. She’d been on autopilot the past two days helping with the arrangements and trying to sort out all the details of the ranch with James.

  “I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning. I left your ticket open-ended if you want to stay for a few days longer.”

  “No.” She jarred from her thoughts, looking over at Beau. His hair was combed
all respectable. He looked more like a missionary at the moment.

  Beau pulled in front of her house.

  “I would like to go back with you if that’s okay.”

  Beau turned off the car, and they looked at each other.

  “It’s time.” She looked at her house, feeling drained of all emotion, but she knew she had to move forward. “My dad would want me to finish the semester and do well.” One stray tear came down her face. “When you just think there can’t be any water left in your whole body . . .”

  Beau gently rubbed the tear with his thumb. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Sara.” He put his hand on top of hers on the seat.

  Sara saw the compassion in his eyes and felt confused. “Who did you lose, Beau?”

  He looked down then back to her. “My dad. My wife.” His eyes were steady.

  Sara rocked back. “What?”

  “On my mission, my dad had a heart attack.” Beau waved his hand in the air. “I have always wished I’d talked to him when he’d tried to call the day before I left. It’s been a huge regret for me.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s been almost three years since my wife passed away. We were only married for nine months. The cancer was too advanced when we found out.”

  Sara noticed he was blinking rapidly. She grabbed onto his hand fully and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Beau.”

  He tried to laugh. “See, I know all about crappy things happening.” He squeezed her hand back gently and rubbed his eyes with the back of his other hand. “I couldn’t stand for you to face it all alone, Sara.”

  Sara looked at Beau’s face and wondered why everything between them seemed to change in an instant. It was like she was finally seeing who he really was.

  “Do you want to walk with me to Dad’s favorite spot?”

  Sucking in a breath he nodded. “Sure.”

  They got out of the car, and Sara peered through the large front windows into the house. People from the ward were inside, balancing plates of food on their laps. She didn’t think she could stand to shake another hand at the moment. “This way.”

  Beau picked up her hand, and they walked in companionable silence watching the orange sky glowing behind the mountains.