by Naomi Niles
"You're awfully quiet today," Frank observed. "Everything all right?"
"Yeah, everything is terrific. In fact, life has never been better. I love being out here in the country, away from the city with all the traffic and noise. My paintings are coming along better than I hoped, and I've found you. It's almost enough to make me want to stay."
"I'm happy we found each other, too," he said, giving my shoulder a paternal squeeze.
"What do you think of the idea of me staying?" I asked, and my pulse quickened with worry about what he might say.
Frank looked down at his half-eaten sandwich long and thoughtfully. When he finally spoke, he looked up into my eyes with an expression of wisdom and love.
"I think your question has a lot more to do with a certain handsome cowboy in a suit than it does about anything else. Not the beauty of the country, or the painting, or even me. I think you love him. Am I right?"
There was no point in denying it, and I nodded my head in silent confession.
He sighed heavily, and I knew his reply wasn't going to be something I wanted to hear, but I wanted it anyway.
Frank took and hand and said gruffly, "I grew up with the attitude that men were the bread winners and it was a woman's duty to stay home and raise the children. Women didn't need a career, or independence, or an opinion. Her duty was to follow her man, no matter what it cost her.
“Well, I've come to learn throughout my lifetime that's not the way things should be. A woman doesn't have to give up her career, her dreams, and her goals to follow some man in order to be happy."
"You think that's what I would be doing?" I was appalled, but Frank squeezed my hand gently and nodded his head.
"I do. You told me getting that internship at the art museum was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You told me that it meant you could have your work displayed in your own show, and that all you ever wanted to be was a professional artist."
"I do, but-"
"No buts about it. You told me how hard you had to work to get into art school, and now that you have your degree and your career is just beginning, you're talking about throwing it all away and moving out to the country. For what? To be with some man you've only known for a month? That's crazy. Think about it."
"But I've fallen in love with him, and Colton loves me, too. I think I could be really happy out here."
"You know who you sound like? Jillian and me. We were madly in love once, too. She'd gotten into some program for secretarial training. They were teaching her how to use the computer, do spreadsheets and all that crap. I'd gotten a job at a factory across the state. She could either stay where she was and have a career, or come with me. Well, you know the rest."
"I never knew that about Mom." I was truly stunned.
"It changed her. She never could stop resenting me for the sacrifice she had made, and it just kept building and festering inside her. When she got pregnant with you, things just got worse, and I knew she'd blame you, too. From what you've told me, it sounds like I was right."
"That doesn't mean the same thing will happen to me."
"No, it doesn't, but do you really want to take that risk? How long have you known Colton? How well do you really know each other? You've been wanting to be a professional artist your entire life. Do you really want to throw away a lifetime of work for a guy you've just met?"
"No, I guess not. It's just that when I'm with him, he's all I want and I can't stand the thought of leaving."
"That will only get worse the longer you're with him. Go now while you still can, before he sucks you in any further."
"I'm only on my fourth painting. I still have one more to do."
"Well, get it done quickly. The sooner you get out of here, the better. Once you're back home in Chicago where you belong, your time here will fade into a happy memory you can treasure forever."
"I guess that's true." I smiled sadly. He was making some good points, but I still wasn't ready to give up on the idea of staying.
"I know I haven't been there for you like I should have, but please let me give you some fatherly advice now, while I can. Don't make the same mistake your mother and I made. If you really want your happily ever after, you can't let love derail you from your goals."
"Thanks, Dad." I hugged him goodbye. He'd given me a lot to think about, and I didn't know if should listen to my heart or my mind. It was a tough decision to make, and I had very little time left to make it.
Chapter Twelve: Colton
"Your fourth painting sure is coming along nicely," I said to Bethany as we strolled around the ranch in the general direction of the barn. Maggie padded along by my side, stopping occasional to sniff at something before running to catch up with us again.
These little walks had become a tradition of ours. Every night after helping Mama wash the dinner dishes, Bethany and I would take Maggie for a walk, although everyone knew it was really so we could be along together.
Often times, we ended up in the hayloft up in the barn where we could make love without the worry of being caught by Mama, although our romance was no longer a secret around the ranch. In fact, it seemed to be the talk of the town, with all my brothers giving me a hard time about it every chance they got.
I normally didn't let their ribbing get to me, but this time it was different. I'd never felt this way about a woman before, and it was scary – but in a good way. Everything was happening so fast, and it was exhilarating, terrifying, and wonderful all at once.
Maybe it was because I knew Bethany was leaving soon. It gave our romance a real urgency and forced me to express my feelings a lot faster than I would have under normal circumstances. It also made every moment we spent together all the more precious. Our love was bittersweet, like a romantic tragedy of old, or so it seemed every time I thought about her leaving.
So, we never talked about it. We talked about other things, like books, our favorite foods, and what games we liked to play when we were kids. Bethany talked about art, and I talked about cattle ranching. Anything and everything except the looming end of our brief time together.
"Thanks. It's officially finished," Bethany said in response to my compliment. She kicked a small rock with her toe and it rolled across the ground. Maggie chased after it, but then realized it wasn't a ball and lost interest.
"You don't sound too happy about that." I was confused. Usually, she was bubbly and full of smiles when she talked about her paintings.
"Now I only have one last one left," she said, and the meaning of her words weighed on us both like a storm cloud ready to burst.
"Oh." I didn't know what to say. Bethany had essentially just told me she only had one week left to stay. That's how long all of her previous paintings had taken to complete. As soon as this last one was done, she'd go back to Chicago. It was too sad a subject, and I refused to even think about it.
Maggie had run into the barn, presumably to chase a mouse or something, and I took Bethany by the hand and led her inside to our favorite secret hideaway. It was too dangerous to try to make love in our bedrooms in the house. Mama or one of my brothers was always barging in without even knocking, and even though they all knew we were in a relationship, they didn't know it had become an intimate one.
No one ever came out to the barn after the work day was done; in fact, they wanted to stay as far away from it as possible, making it the perfect love nest for the two of us.
"Let's not talk about that right now," I said low in Bethany's ear and began to kiss her neck.
Giggling, she climbed up the ladder to the hayloft, beckoning her finger for me to follow her.
When I got to the top, I found she had partially unbuttoned her blouse. I brought my lips to her exposed cleavage. Bethany closed her eyes, threw back her head, and moaned softly with pleasure. She tasted so delicious, I couldn't wait to peel off her clothes and make love to her in the hay.
Suddenly, we heard voices below and sat up, feeling startled. Leaning over the edge of the loft, we peeked
down to see Brett entering the barn with none other than Emma Fields, the pastor's daughter.
"Thanks for agreeing to meet me tonight," Brett was saying to the pretty young girl.
"Sure, what do you need to talk to me about?" She tucked a lock of her strawberry-blonde hair behind one ear.
"Well, your father said it was wrong for a twenty-one-year-old man to date a high school student. Now that you've graduated, I thought maybe we could start again."
"Have you talked to Daddy about it yet?"
"No. I wanted to talk to you first. There's no point in my asking his permission to date you if it's not something you wanted first. Besides, you're a legal adult. Is it really necessary for me to get your father's permission? Can't you do what you want?"
"Yes, but want I want is to do things the right way," Emma insisted. She was young, but definitely strong in her faith and her opinions.
"Okay. I'll talk to your dad, but you know he hates me."
"Well, what did you expect when you stole the church wine to get drunk?" she giggled, while wagging finger at him admonishingly.
"I was a dumb kid then. I'm a whole new man now, and I'll prove it to him." Brett said with a cocky grin.
"Well, you better do it quick. I'm leaving in a month."
"Where are you going?"
"My missionary trip to Africa. I'll be gone an entire year. Did you forget? I've been preparing for it all year."
"I didn't realize you were going so soon." He sounded panicked.
"Well, I am. Unless, of course, you talk to my father."
"You'd skip going to Africa and stay here if I were your boyfriend? That's quite a sacrifice." Brett sounded in awe, and I was, too. Everyone in town knew how much time and effort Emma had put into going on this mission trip. Her whole life had been dedicated to that one goal, and for her to give it up just to date my brother was a real testament of her feelings for him.
"Of course, I would. What kind of courtship would it be if left for year? Planning our engagement would be nearly impossible long distance like that."
"Whoa! I just want you to be my girlfriend. I'm not ready for marriage, and you shouldn't be, either. Christ, you're just eighteen."
"Well, what's the point of dating someone if you don't expect the relationship to grow into something serious? I'm not the kind of girl you can just fool around with for a few months and then move on to the next. If you want to date me, I need to know you have plans for things to move in a serious direction one day – like marriage."
"Take it easy. There's nothing wrong with having a little fun now and then. Don't you think God put us this earth to enjoy life? Loosen up a little. Let yourself get to know the pleasures life has to offer before you lock yourself down to one person."
"You know how much my moral values mean to me. It's a sin to divulge in pleasures of the flesh until a man and a woman are married in the eyes of God. If you expect to have any kind of a relationship with me, I expect to be courted properly. Otherwise why should I waste my time with you?"
Emma turned on her heal and stormed out of the barn, with Brett chasing after her and Maggie right behind.
Chapter Thirteen: Bethany
I stared breathlessly at the dramatic scene unfolding in the barn below me, clutching Colton's hand. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and my heart went out to Emma.
Her dilemma was very similar to my own. She'd been working towards a goal that meant a lot to her, and just on the cusp of reaching it, she fell in love with a Hutchinson man. Just like her, I had to choose between leaving to complete my lifelong ambitions or staying to be with the man I loved.
Just like Emma wanted to be a missionary, I'd wanted to be an artist for as long as could remember. I used to sit in my bedroom for hours, sketching drawings. When I'd been able to take art as an elective in school, I was introduced to painting, and my passion grew from there. The paintbrush came alive in my hand, giving me purpose, and an outlet for all the emotions I'd kept trapped inside for all my life.
Unlike Emma, I'd never had a home where I felt safe and loved, but when I painted landscapes, homes, and villages, it was like I had. All my pain and sorrow disappeared, and as long as I was painting, I was happy.
Then, I discovered that other people appreciated my art, too, and would be willing to hang my paintings on their walls. Not only did it mean something I had done had value to others, but that the love and emotion I had put into each brush stroke was immortal and would live on for as long as that painting hung on their wall.
The internship I had won at the museum was an opportunity to have my own art show, which would expand my career as an artist and possibly lead to more people buying my paintings and having them hang on more walls. It was too great a goal for me to sacrifice and throw away on a whim.
I hadn't been able to see it that way until I heard Emma Fields promising Brett Hutchinson that she would sacrifice her dream of going to Africa and serving as a missionary if he would be her boyfriend.
I'd first heard Emma talking about going to Africa when I went to church with Margie on Sunday. She had been so excited about it, and when she talked about sharing God's word with the villagers and helping them to dig a new water well, her entire face had lit up like a candle. I could see what it meant to her, and I'd been excited for her.
When I heard her offer to give all that up to be Brett's girlfriend, my stomach actually churned, and I thought I might be sick. I loved Brett like the ornery little brother I never had, but I'd seen him chase after every girl he laid his eyes on. He'd even hit on me when I first drove up to the ranch a little over a month ago.
He went out with a different girl every Friday night, and another one on Saturdays. He was as much a player as any bachelor in the city, and I couldn't begin to calculate how many hearts he'd broken.
Emma was smart, sweet, and dedicated to doing God's work. She didn't need to settle for a man who would treat her badly, cheat, or abandon her like Frank had done to me and my mother. I wasn't certain Brett would do any of those things, but there was no guarantee that he wouldn't, either. She was risking throwing away all her goals and dreams for something as uncertain as love.
In a jarring moment of clarity, I realized I was doing the same thing. Just like Jillian and Emma, I was ready to throw away my career as an artist for Colton. Sure, we loved each other, but what kind of guarantee was that? We'd only known each other a month. How did that compare to a lifetime of wanting to be an artist?
As I watched Emma stride from the barn and Brett chase after her, it all became so terrifyingly clear. My father was right: I was at risk of throwing away my whole life for a man I barely knew.
Just then Colton turned to look at me with his hazel-green eyes flashing with merriment.
"That was something." He gave a little whistle before turning to me with a playful grin.
"It sure was," I had to agree.
"What do you say we finish what we started?" He gave me a sexy wink and then leaned in to kiss me.
I rolled over in the hay, dodging his embrace. "No thanks."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm just not in the mood any longer."
"Maybe I can put you back in the mood." He leered at me playfully, but I didn't laugh.
I just buttoned up my blouse and crossed my arm over my chest like a barrier. "I don't think you can. I'm tired. I'm going to take a bath and go to bed early."
"I'll walk you back to the house."
"No, don't. I'd rather be alone." I climbed down the ladder and walked away without even looking back. It would have been easy to stay there with him and let him make love me like he did so well, but I needed to get some space. I needed to be alone to gain some perspective and figure out what was really going to make me happy.
Chapter Fourteen: Colton
I felt completely baffled as I watched Bethany climb down the ladder from the loft and stride back to the ranch house.
What the hell had just happened? One moment w
e were making out in the barn, and the next thing I knew, she's cold as ice. The emotional scene between Brett and Emma must have gotten to her in some way, but why?
I walked slowly from the barn, in no hurry to show back up home all alone and have to endure the certain onslaught of questions from Mama.
I saw Maggie running across the grounds, chasing after a stick that went flying through the air. She caught it easily and carried it back to Brett, who sat slumped on the edge of the fence.
Emma was nowhere to be seen, and it was easy to guess how things went after they exited the barn. I walked up to him and sat in the fence beside him. Clasping him on the shoulder with brotherly affection, I said to him "Hey, how are things going?"
"Fine," he lied. I couldn't say I knew the truth, so I had find a way to work it into the conversation.
"Good. The cattle are gaining weight nicely. We should be able to take them to the slaughterhouse as soon as they're done clearing the east pasture. I expect that will be sometime towards the end of the week."
"Sounds good." He said without enthusiasm.
"I can't believe it's almost the end of summer. Soon Tom will be starting up the school year, and something else was happening. Oh yeah, wasn't a group from the church going to take a mission trip to Africa?"
"You were spying on me." Brett turned on me angrily. I should have known I couldn't fool him
"What are you talking about?" My response sounded fake, even to me.
"You heard me talking with Emma about her leaving for Africa next month. You son-of-a-bitch! I thought you were out walking around the grounds with Bethany. I thought we'd have the barn to ourselves. Were the two of you just hiding outside the barn listening in on us? Did you follow us from the beginning for some kind of sick thrill?"
"It wasn't like that," I hurried to explain before my baby brother tried to punch me and then I'd be forced to kick his ass. "Bethany and I sometimes go to the barn during our walks. Tonight was no exception. When we heard voices, we were going to leave, but it was obvious you two were having a serious conversation. We didn't want to embarrass anyone, so we just stayed hidden up in the hayloft."