He had waited, looking to his dad for his emotional cues, but not seeing any. Just a dullness that settled in the places where joy and humor had once been, robbing his dad of his ability to be there for his son.
No tears had come for either of them, as far as Micah knew. Not at the funeral. Not when they’d boxed up Mom’s things. Or when they’d packed their own stuff and left the house for good. Eventually, so much time passed that it had seemed pointless to want to let out the emotions. So he had kept his feelings boxed up like the dresses they’d dumped at the Goodwill on their way out of town.
Sorrow churned in his gut as he remembered his first competition, not long after. Wearing the fancy fringed shirt his mom had sewn for him that last Christmas, he’d felt small, unsteady and unsure. He hadn’t wanted to compete. Hadn’t shared his dad’s confidence in his ability to win. Now, deep in his heart, he was still just that scared little boy, no matter how many championships he’d claimed.
The pounding of his own pulse grew deafening. He saw now why he had appreciated the attention of the buckle bunnies over the years. They made him feel loved, even though he knew it wasn’t real. They were just a quick fix until he hit the next town and started to get lonely again. They were nothing but a fleeting shadow of what it had felt like to have someone in his life who really cared about him.
Straightening, he met his own reddened eyes in the mirror, hating the person behind those eyes. He shook his head. If Mom could see the man he had become, she’d be so disappointed.
Overtaken by the anguish that accompanied that realization, he gave in to a mournful wail that sounded like a tormented animal. Hot torrents of grief poured down his face, and heaving sobs surged from his throat.
Feeling frantic and trapped, he dropped to his knees, something he hadn’t done in a very long time. In fact, he hadn’t prayed in so long, he wasn’t sure he remembered how.
“Oh, Lord.” He heard a voice that sounded small and weak, barely recognizable as his own. This must be what people meant when they talked about crying out to God.
He swallowed past the lump of grief in his throat. “Why did You take away the one person who loved me? You left me with a dad who couldn’t even tell me he was proud of me.” He choked out a sob. “I tried so hard to be the best. I’m a champion. Why wasn’t that enough for him?”
He slumped against the wall with his head in his hands. This was about as low as he had ever sunk in his life. There was pretty much no hope for him.
Pulling in a jittery breath, he raised his eyes. God had to be up there somewhere beyond that dusty old glass light fixture. “Please give me some slack, God, because I’m at the end of my rope.”
A dim memory faded in and out, like someone running toward him in a fog. Gradually, it became clearer. Something he’d learned a long time ago but had only thought he understood.
Do not boast except in the Lord.
He knew that, didn’t he? He had worked hard in the rodeo, sure. But it had been wrong for him to take all the glory for himself. Why had that never been clear to him before those weeks in the hospital?
“Please forgive me, God.” He looked up again, blinking back the moisture from his eyes. “I’m ready to live my life for You now.” His voice was barely louder than his thoughts. “Make me a new man, because believe me, the old one ain’t worth much.”
A knock on the front door nearly launched him out of his hide.
“Micah...”
His stomach bucked at the sound of Janessa’s sweet voice coming from the other room. What on earth...?
Clambering to his feet, he remembered he’d left the front door open. But she was supposed to be at the movie. What was she doing here?
“Just a minute,” he called out, grabbing a towel to wipe his face. He exited the bathroom and walked slowly down the short hallway and into the living room.
She stood there on the porch, eyeing him guardedly and holding two huge canvas bags. The sight of her in khaki pants that showed off her slim form, and a red T-shirt that made her dark brown hair look even richer, rustled up a spark of optimism that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Part of him wanted to run, to leave her there with no explanation. Instead, he combed a hand through his wet-tipped hair, clinging to some crazy notion that he could still come across as cool to the only woman who had ever caught him crying.
He cleared his throat. “Well, hey, Janessa. What brings you here?”
When she didn’t answer, it occurred to him that he’d better explain mighty quick why he looked like he’d just been dragged through a desert. “I would have gone to the movie, but I...” He pushed the words out of a throat still thick with emotion. “Wasn’t feeling too great.”
“Oh.” The edge of suspicion seemed to soften into concern. “Are you sick?”
He managed a slight smile. “I’m better now.”
She nodded, then lifted up the bags. “Do you feel like eating?”
He furrowed his brow. “You brought me dinner?”
“In a way. I thought you might like a little help with the meal you’re making tomorrow, so I brought you a cooking lesson.”
Relief and gratitude washed through him. He did need help with the dinner, but he had needed more than just that. He had needed her to show him she cared.
“But...” He took a step toward her. “I thought you were going to the movie.”
She shrugged. “I thought so, too, but it turned out I wasn’t in the mood.” One brow arched and her eyes traced the rim of the doorway. “Are you going to invite me in?”
Moving to her, he swept a welcoming arm in front of him. As she entered, he took one of the bags. “What all have you got in here?”
She opened the bag she still held. “A bunch of stuff I grabbed from our pantry. I’m going to teach you how to make beef Stroganoff.” She flashed one of the prettiest smiles he’d ever seen, then started for the kitchen, speaking over her shoulder. “There’s enough here for your lesson, and I’ll make you a shopping list so you can get what you’ll need for tomorrow.”
He paused, rubbing his chin and looking at the doorway she’d disappeared through.
Something his mom had once said came to mind, about God using all kinds of things to answer prayers. He smiled. Mom would be happy to know that God could accomplish His will even by using pretty girls who knew how to rope a calf, make beef Stroganoff and show up at just the right time.
The realization that his prayer had been answered gave him a shred of hope that underneath all his unredeemed behavior, there might just be a soul worth saving.
Chapter 8
An hour or so later Janessa sat across from Micah, enjoying the meal they’d made and sharing her frustrations over the apartment search.
“I hate to say it.” He ran his fork across his plate, scraping up the last of the sauce from his second helping of Stroganoff. “But it sounds to me like your future roommate’s been scammed.”
“Scammed?” She jarred at the suggestion. “No, she knows what she’s doing...” Her voice trailed off as the possibility got her in its grip. “You really think so?”
He shrugged, picking up her empty plate and placing it on his own. “I’ve seen more than my share of dishonorable landlords over the years. You ask me, this guy doesn’t have anything to do with that apartment complex. He most likely doesn’t even live in Seattle.”
The prospect sat like a rock in her stomach. “Well, how am I supposed to find out?”
“Easy. You know the name of the complex, right?” He stood and moved to a small desk that sat against the wall under the window. “Leonard leaves his laptop here for us to use. Just look it up.” He retrieved the computer and set it on the table where her plate had been. “Sometimes, it’s best to just get to the truth of a situation and deal with it.”
“The truth will set you free.” Hesitantly, she opened the computer and turned it on.
He took the plates to the counter and started to run water into the sink, then picked up the pan from the stove. “Dinner was delicious.” He plucked out a noodle and popped it into his mouth. “You sure I can make this on my own tomorrow night?”
“You saw how simple it is.” She kept an eye on the screen as it moved through its paces. “I used to make it for my daddy.” A dull ache squeezed her chest. Earlier, when she’d surveyed the ingredients they had on hand at the house, she’d made a hurried decision. This dish was easy enough for Micah to be able to duplicate, and it was a proven man-pleaser. Now she felt a twinge of guilt, almost as if she was betraying her daddy by fixing it for Micah.
She fingered her necklace as her attention drifted back to the computer connecting to the internet. Peripherally, she was aware of Micah giving her a studied gaze as he waited for the sink to fill.
Finally, he spoke. “So you never really told me why you gave up seeing the movie to come over here and help me.”
“It’s not a big deal.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want the guys to give you a bad time about your cooking. Besides, the movie will be playing in town all summer.”
In her heart, she knew her real motivation was to find out what was troubling him. Helping with the dinner was just a convenient cover, but she was nowhere near ready to admit that. It had been plain to see by his ruddy face and rumpled hair when she arrived that she’d been right to be concerned. It had pleased her to no end when his mood had improved and he’d shown himself to have a healthy appetite.
As soon as the internet connected, she typed in Cascadian Vista Apartments Seattle. Her pulse accelerating, she clicked on the top entry. A classy-looking website popped up, featuring the words Cascadian Vista—Luxury Living in Seattle across the top. Below that was a nighttime shot of a brightly lit building with a pool in the foreground. It looked like a mansion.
“Oh,” she uttered. “I think I found it.” A tiny cyclone of disappointment swirled in her gut as she felt her gourmet kitchen slipping from her grasp. It was clear from this picture alone that this place was way beyond their means.
Micah crossed the room to look over her shoulder. “Whooee. That’s some place.”
“Uh-huh. Two bedrooms, two baths...” Her voice shook as she read. “Twenty-five hundred a month!” She stared at the figure. “Hana must have misunderstood. Or maybe he quoted her the price for a one bedroom.”
“I don’t think so.” He turned the chair next to her around, sat on it backward and pointed a little lower down on the page. “It looks like the smallest unit they have is one bedroom and it goes for fourteen hundred. It’s hard to mistake that for five hundred.”
Janessa’s mind raced. Even if they could manage to live together in a one bedroom, the thought of which made her a little queasy, that was still twice what they’d agreed they could afford. She groaned. “I really wanted this place.”
“I’m so sorry.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I know how it feels to have something important fall through.”
Suddenly, she was staring at the screen but not really seeing it. None of it mattered. Not the Puget Sound view or the movie room, the free Wi-Fi or even the granite countertops. All that mattered was the sensation of his hand touching her shoulder and his nearness to her.
Her pulse fluttered in her throat and all thoughts flitted from her mind. Angling her head, she met his gaze. She swallowed hard, trying to remember what they’d been talking about before her attention had been shanghaied by two pools of blue glistening with streaks of silver. She blinked, and the room started to spin.
Micah must have felt it too because he broke their gaze, then pulled his hand away. “I’m, uh...sorry about the apartment.”
Right. The apartment.
Jolted back into the moment, she covered her face with her hands. “What am I going to do? I need a place to live.”
He let out a long breath. “Well, I don’t know about that, but I do have an idea. Something I like to do whenever I need to clear my head.”
She eyed him warily. “Okay...”
He nodded toward the door. “Come on.”
She never would have admitted it to him, but at that moment he could have gotten her to follow him just about anywhere.
As she headed toward the barn with Micah, she ventured a question. “You said you grew up on a ranch, too. What was it like?”
“Well, our house was scarcely bigger than the bunkhouse of the Bar-G.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “But it was home, and a great place to grow up.”
She smiled. She had started to think of him like a wild horse. If she wanted to know more, she’d have to gain his trust.
As they entered the barn, Miss Molly nickered a gentle greeting. Janessa veered toward her stall while Micah headed for the tack room.
“What do you have in mind, cowboy?” Ohh...that had sounded way less flirtatious in her head. Wincing, she rubbed Molly’s soft muzzle.
“Hold your horses.” He emerged from the tack room carrying a couple of coiled ropes.
Her lips spread in a slow smile. She gave Molly an extra pat and followed Micah to the corral behind the barn.
As he headed toward the steer dummy they kept out there, she smiled again. “This is where I like to come when I need to think something through. I can’t believe you thought of this.”
“You know what they say about ‘great minds.’” He handed her one of the ropes. “Ladies first.”
As she coiled her rope, thoughts of the rodeo and how she wasn’t going to be in it tumbled around in her head like a litter of puppies. Now that the real cost of living in Seattle had smacked her squarely between the eyes, it was clear that she’d have to spend every minute she had focusing on earning what she needed. Not to mention that her car was going to demand a big chunk of her savings, and she still owed her half of the money Hana had been scammed out of.
She sighed. It couldn’t hurt to blow off some steam by tossing a rope with the guy, but afterward, she’d have to make sure he understood that she was out.
She swung the rope, easily catching the neck of the fake steer.
“Not bad.” He looked impressed. “Who taught you how to rope, anyway?”
“My daddy.” She crossed to the dummy to retrieve her line. “I begged him to teach me everything there was to know around the ranch because I loved being with him so much.”
“Sounds like you were a daddy’s girl.” The words came out glazed with admiration.
“He was the best. I used to cook for him, and he’d pretend to be a customer in my restaurant. We loved that game.” It felt surprisingly easy to share that memory, considering that she never really talked about Daddy, not even with Mama or Andra.
“You know—” he gave her a studied gaze before throwing his loop “—you’ve been worrying that necklace to a nub ever since I met you. Why is that?”
She glanced down at her simple diamond on a heavy gold chain that she hadn’t even realized she had her fingers on. “My daddy gave this to me on my last birthday before he died.” That final word sputtered out, barely audible.
His gaze drifted past her, as if her words had prompted a painful thought of his own.
“I always wear it.” Forced cheerfulness was a skill she’d honed over the years. “It’s my birthstone.”
He blinked, seemingly drawn back to the conversation. “I figured it looked like it was made for a kid.”
“It was.” She built the loop in her rope again. “I was eight when he gave it to me.”
“And how did he...” He allowed the question to hang in the air, finding its own completion.
“Cancer.” She swung again, this time twirling her rope in an ocean wave and catching the horns with a figure eight.
She yanked it tight. “I still can’t really talk about it. But it’s like they say, life goes on.”
She went over to grab her loop, then looked back at him. While he nodded approval at her roping, the melancholy returned to his eyes. She frowned, realizing that in everything she’d read about him, there’d been no mention of his mom. Only his dad.
She measured her words. “I guess maybe you know about that, too.”
“Yeah.” He gave a quick, sad smile, maintaining his focus on his rope. “My mom died of lupus when I was ten.”
Her heart broke for him. Aside from Adam, she really hadn’t met anyone else who’d lost a parent so young. “I’m so sorry.”
His mouth twisted as he did an impressive series of tricks and swung the rope over the horns. “Life goes on, like you said.” His expression firmed in a way that she recognized from her own arsenal of survival techniques. “My dad never said it, but I think he blamed God for my mom dying, so that’s what I did, too. The two of us just hit the road, me riding in the rodeo and him helping with the animals. We never looked back.”
“Wow. It must have been hard having to leave your home like that.”
“Home’s pretty important.” He glanced over at her before retrieving his rope. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you so dead set against staying in Thornton Springs?”
The question took her by surprise. Why would he want to know? “It’s just...small towns. You get stuck in them and your life goes nowhere. Don’t you ever feel that way?”
“I haven’t stayed in one place long enough to feel stuck.”
“Oh. Well, trust me, that’s what happens.”
“And you think things would be different if you lived in a city.”
“Cities are so much more exciting.” As she spoke, she mimicked the rope tricks he’d just demonstrated. “My parents used to take us to Spokane with them in the summers. I loved walking down the streets there and looking in the windows of the restaurants. They just seemed so special to me.” She jumped into her loop, pulled it up over her head, then tossed it over the horns. Flicking him a how-about-that glance, she went to the steer.
Big Sky Bachelor (9781460320624) Page 10