“Just watch.”
“Watch?”
“It’s going to be perfect, I promise. You’ll love it—you just have to trust me.”
Lincoln seemed to be taking in the situation. “I see. And . . . I do trust you. But . . . are you sure this is the way you want the beginning to go?”
He’d read her script! “Yes, yes, don’t you see? It’s the explosive opening that every movie begins with, and it’ll draw the viewer in.”
Lincoln stepped closer. “But what about the hero? If he’s dead, the viewer can’t root for him. They’ll already know the ending, and they’ll have nothing invested in the story.”
She looked at his feet, now entering the circle of her light. He had a point, but . . . “No. I planned it this way.”
“So, you rewrite. You reshoot. That’s what directors do—they look at the story and rebuild the plot when it suits better.”
She could see his face now, and it held no blame, no guile.
“Start the story right here, right where you have it. And then bring it full circle, to this moment. With the hero staring at the end.” Lincoln had nearly reached her now. “It’s a great story about someone who sees what his life could have become and goes back to change it. Someone who knows that without this horrible, black moment, he would have ended up on the bottom, broken. Now the hero has a chance to go back, to make things right. To tell the people he cares about how he really feels. It’s a redemption story. Critics will love it.” Lincoln put so much emotion into his voice, his eyes, his body language, that Karen could only believe him.
She lowered the torch. “I like your ending,” she said softly.
“Then let’s put this movie in the can.” He reached out and took the torch.
Lights in the distance pinpricked the darkness. She jerked. “Who are they?”
Lincoln didn’t even turn around. “Your fans?”
She didn’t have fans. Not yet. “No, Lincoln. They’re your fans! Fans that are going to wreck this entire movie!” Then, as he lunged at her, she yanked the emergency brake release.
The truck rolled over the edge and disappeared.
“Now the hero has a chance to go back, to make things right. To tell the people he cares about how he really feels.”
Stefanie knew exactly what Lincoln meant as she awkwardly tried to unwind the duct tape that held Gideon’s hands together. She’d already worked free the tape over her mouth. “Linc!”
She longed to go back and tell him exactly what he’d meant to her, that he’d made her see herself in a new light. She didn’t care if she sounded like a fool, if he didn’t love her. The real Stefanie Noble was tired of living her life listening to the voices of fear and failure.
The truck lurched forward, began to pick up speed.
“Stefanie!” Lincoln’s voice broke through her panic.
Gideon freed his hands and kicked open his door.
“Go!” She braced her feet against the floorboards. “Go, Gideon!”
But she felt his arm snake around her waist, felt herself sliding along the seat, felt herself launched into the air.
She hit the ground almost on top of him. He grunted and she rolled off him, tearing her dress, watching the truck finish its careen down the ravine and crash into the empty creek bed.
At least it hadn’t—
Boom! The explosion threw her back as it lit up the night.
She looked up and saw Lincoln silhouetted at the top of the ridge, his hands on his head, staring at the blaze.
“Linc!” She doubted he heard her over the roar of the fire.
Gideon was pushing up on one elbow, groaning. “I think I broke something again.”
“Are you okay?” Stefanie was bleeding from a scrape on her chin, right into her dress.
“Turn around,” Gideon said as he went to work on her duct-taped hands.
“Gideon, you saved my life.” She looked at him over her shoulder.
He was concentrating on his work, but he shook his head. “No, Stef. I think you saved mine.”
“But—”
“Stefanie!” Lincoln had finally seen her and had begun to work his way down the slope, his face lit by the glow of the fire.
She watched him stumble toward her, nearly tripping, and remembered his words to Karen: “Someone who sees what his life could have become and goes back to change it. Someone who knows that without this horrible, black moment, he would have ended up on the bottom, broken.”
Maybe his words weren’t all an act. Maybe he, too, knew what they had and nearly lost.
Confirming her thoughts, Lincoln looked at Stefanie as if his world had nearly crashed at his feet, his face white, his eyes glossy. She knew his expression wasn’t part of any role he might be playing.
His hands shook as he scrabbled down to her, as he hit his knees and held her by the shoulders. “Thank You, God. Oh, thank You. . . . I thought you were dead.” He had real tears in his eyes and closed them as if trying to hide his emotions. “Did you really throw yourself out of that truck?” He took out a handkerchief, pressing it to her bleeding chin.
Her adrenaline was piling up, making her giddy. “What did you call it? The Dex something—”
“The Ditch and Roll. But please, I never want to go through watching that again.” He pulled her to himself and held tight. “I thought I lost you. I was so scared. I just kept praying that God would give me the right words to say to Karen, something to buy time. I kept thinking that if He just gave me one more chance . . .”
“‘It’s a redemption story. Critics will love it.’”
Lincoln leaned back and put his hand on her cheek. “Listen, okay. I gotta tell you something. Probably I should have told you before, a long time ago, but I only just figured it out, and you can’t interrupt, because this is for real and it’s not easy—”
“You love me.”
His mouth opened. “You interrupted.”
“Well, I know how wordy you actors are, and I wanted to get to the point. You love me.”
He nodded.
“Okay, say it.” She raised an eyebrow.
“What about you? Do you . . . love . . . me?”
“Oh my, you are insecure, aren’t you? Have to have adoring fans everywhere?”
“Pretty much.”
“Yes, fine. I love you. I’m crazy about you. I’m the president of your fan—”
He kissed her. And it wasn’t one of those sweeping, movie-music-accompanied kisses either, but a kiss of desperation, filled with emotion and what-ifs, and finally, everything she knew about him, his fears and dreams. His strength. He wrapped his hand around her neck, and it was all she could do to catch her breath.
“I . . . do love you.” His voice was broken, matching hers.
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” she said softly.
He gave her a slow trickle of a smile. “Maybe not. Maybe because you were right all along. There is a little piece of me in every scene I play. And I’ve been practicing for years to get it right . . . with you. Only, this isn’t a scene. It’s real. I do love you, Stefanie. You see through Lincoln to the real me.”
“To Lewis.”
“Yeah. To Lewis. Just a guy who hopes the girl he loves, loves him back.”
“I do love you.” She smiled at him. “But I think you need to come up with a better line because that sounds like it’s from a movie.”
“Shh.” He was still holding her, however. “No, that’s all mine.”
This time when he kissed her, she did hear the music, the swooning and the violins and the happy ending to her own, very personal, chick flick.
“When I suggested coming out to Montana, I was kind of thinking that you’d steer clear of all the thrilling, action-adventure, edge-of-your-seat, death-defying drama. Just can’t live without it, huh?”
“Funny, Dex,” Lincoln said, watching as the sheriff’s red lights lit up the top of Cutter’s Rock. It did seem ironic that out here, in the hills where he’d looked
for peace, he’d confronted his greatest challenges.
Finding himself. Finding the man who didn’t need the lights and the persona to be a hero. Finding the man who could confront his fears with trust that God had a bigger plan for him.
Finally he was becoming the man he’d always hoped he’d be, and he’d had to be on his knees to see it happen.
“How are you feeling?” He had Stefanie nestled in the curve of his embrace, a blanket wrapped around them as they sat on a large rock. He was still a little weak, the memory of the truck exploding against the pane of night playing over and over in his head. He’d never been so afraid.
“All that adrenaline must have flushed whatever poison Karen gave me right out of my system,” Stefanie said.
“I think that’s shock talking,” Dex said. “I’d get her to a hospital, Linc.”
“It’s next on my list. As soon as Karen is locked up.”
The woman sat in the backseat of the police cruiser, having been intercepted by his security team as she’d tried to flee the scene. She’d had to be subdued, a sight that Lincoln would long remember with pain.
Whatever was in the crazy woman’s head, she was also grieving.
A grief that Gideon apparently felt too, because he’d stood frozen, watching as she was handcuffed, as she screamed accusations and murder in his direction. Then he’d cupped his hands over his head and sobbed.
“What’s going to happen to her?” Stefanie said.
“I would guess she’ll be hospitalized,” Dex said. “Was she really planning on filming your deaths?”
“The camera was running—she probably got me on film.”
“I’ll have to get my hands on that before the press or someone else grabs it. Don’t want you ending up on the Internet.”
Lincoln saw more lights, and another four-wheeler pulled up.
Libby sprang off from behind her father and ran to Gideon, sobbing. He turned into her embrace.
“He’s going to be okay,” Lincoln said softly, almost to himself.
“I think so,” Stefanie said. “It just might take a while.”
“Maybe we’re all going to be okay.” Lincoln touched his lips to her hair.
She smiled at him. “How was the movie?”
“Two thumbs up!” Dex answered. “Another Lincoln Cash blockbuster.”
Lincoln heard voices calling his name and realized the reporters had found them. His groan was cut off by Dex. “I’ll handle this.”
“Dex to the rescue again,” Stefanie said.
Lincoln shook his head. He’d have to put the kibosh on any plans Dex might have to turn this night into a PR moment for the movie. “Dex is going to be upset when I tell him that I’m out of the movie business.”
Stefanie turned in his arms. “What? You can’t quit. The world needs Lincoln Cash movies. I thought we went over this.”
“We did, but . . . I think I’m done with blockbusters for a while. I want a nice, calm, peaceful . . .”
“Drama?” Stefanie gave him a small smile.
“How about . . . life?”
Something that included Stefanie, Gideon, Haley, and Macey. His beautiful horses and his land—the space that was his, as far as his eye could see. He’d come to Montana thinking his life was imploding. He never dreamed that it would get so big.
Or that he would find himself in the middle of it, thankful to be alive and breathing, with the woman he loved in his arms.
“That sounds like an epic to me,” she said as she lifted her face.
He kissed her again and saw cameras flash in his peripheral vision. “And you’re my leading lady.”
She laughed softly, sweetly. “As long as I don’t have to do any stunts.”
EPILOGUE
LINCOLN CASH HAD never been more invincible. At least on the big screen.
However, if he didn’t give her the popcorn, he was really going to get hurt. “I’m serious, Superhero. Hand it over,” Stefanie said, reaching for the tub.
But Haley had already climbed over his shoulder, diving for it even as Macey reached between Stefanie and Lincoln for a grab.
Gideon reached over both of them and snatched it out of Lincoln’s grip. “Uh-uh. It’s mine and Libby’s. It’s the first popcorn we’ve had together in months, so beat it.” He sat down and put his arm around a giggling Libby. Although the healthy tans they’d received from the summer sun had faded, Gideon nearly glowed with happiness at having Libby back after her fall term at college in Chicago. Stefanie had no doubt she’d go back in January, and in a year, Gideon might even join her.
But he wasn’t quite ready to leave his family yet. His new family. Besides, he had to stand up for Lincoln in February in a wedding ceremony on the Noble family’s ranch.
“Is this the movie about—?” Macey started.
“Shh—I haven’t seen it yet!” Rafe Noble, on a well-needed rest from his bull-riding tour, sat with his fiancée, Kat—Kitty, as Rafe called her—Breckenridge. Her feet, in their signature red cowboy boots, were propped on the seat in front of her, her dark brown hair fanned out against Rafe’s arm.
Down the row, Maggy St. John sat with her husband, Cole, her hand resting on her pregnant belly. Their son, CJ, was in the back of the room, running the projector.
“Neither has Alyssa,” Lincoln said, reaching over to give her a sideways hug.
Stefanie watched as Alyssa smiled at him, her eyes clear and shining, even if she still thought like a child. Her occasional visits to Spotlight Ranch, along with a private nurse, had proven to be the medicine she needed to break free of her nightmares. And on this trip, her smile had finally begun to connect to her eyes. Not unlike Lincoln’s, really.
“Okay, I got the gumdrops, the red hots, and the malted milk balls,” Nick said as he came through the door. “Who wants what?”
“Malted milk balls,” Lincoln said.
Rafe took the red hots.
Macey grabbed for the gumdrops and opened the box, getting up on her knees in the seat to share with Haley.
Stefanie could hardly believe Macey’s transformation in these last five months. She wore a long-sleeved pink shirt, and she’d cut her hair so that it hung in soft waves around her head. Her counselor spoke highly of her, but Stefanie didn’t need any confirmation. Even though Macey and Haley were still living with a foster family, she could see for herself that these weekend visits to the ranch were healing the girls. And Lincoln, their hero, had already put the wheels in motion to adopt Macey and Haley as soon as he and Stefanie got married. Perhaps it would even be the start of something she’d dreamed of long ago—a ranch not only for the North kids but for others who needed a place to heal.
The fact that Lincoln had proposed to her around the Nobles’ Thanksgiving table last weekend, with everyone watching, had guaranteed him a yes.
Who was she kidding? Stefanie had never felt more herself—beautiful and cherished and capable and smart—than when looking at Lincoln’s smile. The man God had given her to call her Beloved.
“Where’s Piper?” Stefanie asked as Nick sat down in front of them.
“Feeding Ruthie up at the house. She’ll be down soon.”
Stefanie leaned her head on Lincoln’s shoulder. He was having a good day today, his last attack quelled with some fast-acting medicine. Still, his hand trembled slightly. She reached out and folded it in hers.
That he’d found his strength, the man he was meant to be, through this weakness only confirmed her words that God was answering Lincoln’s prayers in more ways than even she had imagined. Through his life as Lincoln Cash, he’d learned to be strong. Learned to say and do things that made him a hero, to be the person he’d always hoped to be.
It hadn’t been an act at all. It was something he already had inside that God had put there and was just waiting for him to discover. And as a new spokesman for multiple sclerosis research, as well as by providing scholarships to help student filmmakers with disabilities find a voice, he’d become a differe
nt kind of hero to his fans.
Stefanie was so proud of him that she could burst. Instead she squeezed his hand.
He looked at her and smiled. The formerly smug, heartbreaking, invincible movie star who’d turned into exactly the type of hero she was looking for. Fallible yet perfect for her.
Nick handed her the malted milk balls. She poured some into Lincoln’s outstretched hand. “What movie are we watching this weekend? Lincoln saves the world, or Lincoln saves the world?”
He laughed. “Hey, you’re the one who said you had to see every one of my movies before you’d marry me.” He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “You must like watching me save the world.”
“Maybe I just want to confirm that you’re hero enough for me,” she said and winked at him.
“I saw you and Aunt Stefanie on TV last week, Uncle Linc,” Haley said. She had a sweet voice, and when she spoke, everyone seemed to light up. “They said she was your hot summer romance.”
“I tried to get her to turn it off,” Macey said, “but our foster mom loves E! channel. And whenever there’s a Lincoln Cash sighting, she has to turn it up.”
“I like Edith. She takes good care of you,” Lincoln said. “But you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
Stefanie looked at him, pouring as much indignation into her expression as possible.
Lincoln grinned. “Hot, yes. Romance, yes. Summer? Not on your life.” He leaned over and kissed her. “This is forever.”
“Can we watch the movie now?” Alyssa said in a voice that spoke impatience.
“Roll it!” Stefanie yelled to CJ.
As the lights went down, Lincoln settled back in his seat, his arm around Stefanie, tucking her in close.
Stefanie smiled. He might have come to Montana to hide, but instead, God had used him to help her come out of hiding, to find herself, her life, her future.
To tell her that He loved her.
Maybe this was what it felt like to be invincible.
No, this was what it felt like to be called Beloved.
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Finding Stefanie Page 29
