She slammed her eyes closed, and he knew she was fighting as hard as he was. “I hope you and Dallas will be very happy together.” With that she opened her eyes, and the look in them ripped his own helplessness wide open. One shake of her wrist, and she was free of him. “I’ve got to go.”
Knocking into everyone she met on the way out, Maggie headed for the stairs.
“It’s time, everyone,” Patty Ann said, climbing the stairs and meeting Maggie coming the other way down them. “Ms. Montgomery, where are you going?”
But Maggie never stopped. Keith followed her out of the room and stood with a whole audience behind him as he watched her go. He wanted to go after her, to stop her, and tell her that he loved her, but the truth was, he loved her too much to do that. She was better off without him.
“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Patty Ann asked, her face livid.
“Greg.” Keith turned to his best friend. He didn’t even have to say the words, the look of sheer panic conveyed the message perfectly.
“Yeah, I’ll go.” Greg started down the stairs after Maggie, but Patty Ann stopped him.
“You’re the best man. You can’t leave.”
“Oh, yeah? Watch me.”
Glad for the tennis shoes, Maggie ran stumbling down the trail to the guesthouse. The suitcase banged into her leg, nearly tripping her, but she didn’t care. She had to get away.
Knowing that the barn must be at an angle to her present location, she ducked into the trees and cut cross-country. “God, please, please, just get me out of here.”
“The final guests have been seated!” Patty Ann exclaimed in horror as she climbed the main staircase into the emotional chaos above. “Your parents are walking down the aisle right now. You’re supposed to be downstairs ready to go. What are you all doing standing around for? We’ve got a wedding to put on.”
The others seemed to scatter to their rightful posts, but Keith couldn’t move. He stood there at the balcony railing gazing down into nothing. He couldn’t move, not a finger, not a toe. If Greg didn’t find her, she might be gone forever. It was what he said he wanted for her, but watching it happen was killing him.
“Mr. Ayer,” Patty Ann said, reappearing at the bottom of the steps. “Now!”
In her headlong dash to leave, Maggie had almost forgotten the secret of getting the barn door open. Finally with a bang of her body into it, the bolt came free, and the door swung open. Motion after motion she made until she and the suitcase were in the car, and it was running. She spun out of the barn and urged the little car up the path to the trees.
Details like closing the barn door were lost in the haze of numbness. She drove past the garage without looking at it and turned on the pavement. In less than a minute she was at the mansion and in less than another she was out the front gate. Swiping at the tears she forced herself not to think about what time it was, about what was happening, about life itself. Where she was going, she had no idea. Anywhere had to be better than here.
Six hundred pairs of eyes gazed at Keith as he walked out of the side room and took his place at the front of the assembled guests. He wasn’t really breathing or thinking. It was more momentum carrying him forward than anything. Right up front his father smiled at him and nodded. There was something so spirit-sapping about that look, Keith had to look away. Yes, his father was proud of him because this wasn’t him—it was some made-up, plastic replica of him that clinched him in its vice grip.
“Finally, you are rising to the occasion” his father’s look seemed to say. Keith shook his head and replanted his gaze to the aisle beyond. Dallas, basking in the glow of having all eyes on her, walked gracefully beside her father. Mr. Henderson, too, was milking this walk for all it was worth. Flashbulbs went off ahead of them, and disgust clutched Keith’s gut. In minutes he would be tied to that farce of a delusional display. It wasn’t real. None of it.
“Do you want to be rich or to look rich?” Maggie’s voice asked from deep inside him. Looking at them, Keith couldn’t help but think how rich they looked but how terribly poor in morals and judgment and the things that really counted that they were.
When they made it to the end of the aisle, Mr. Henderson turned and kissed Dallas. Then he looked at Keith with a gaze that would’ve melted Everest. “Be good to her, you hear me?”
Keith swallowed and nodded. When Mr. Henderson stepped to the side, Keith offered her his arm. He wasn’t going to make the mistake of taking her hand like he had at the rehearsal the night before. If he had learned anything, it was that this was important, and every detail had to be right.
“No!” Maggie wailed as the hissing sound increased sending the power in her car into a death spiral. When it rolled to a stop on the side of the road leading out of Pine Hill, she allowed herself to sit and wallow in her pathetic bad luck for one moment before she slammed her shoulder into the door to get it to open.
At the front of the car, she reached down to pop the hood, nearly scalding her hand in the process. When the hood was open, she waved the steam away. “I cannot believe this. What else could go wrong?”
Just then she heard the sound of a vehicle coming up behind her, and she turned and shielded her eyes from the late afternoon sun. Maybe if she was lucky, she could get a ride to a bus station. Del Rio sounded really nice right about now.
However, when she got a good look at the stopping car, annoyance jammed into her. In seconds it was stopped and the driver was out and striding toward her. In just as many she was buried in his arms.
“Maggie,” Greg said. “Oh, thank God you’re okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Do you, Keith Warren Ayer take Dallas Celeste Henderson to be your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold from this day forward ‘til death do you part?”
The words seemed so simple. Two of them. Two little syllables in fact, but the questions and concerns smashing into each other in the middle of his gut wouldn’t let them find the air.
The minister cleared his throat. “Umm. Mr. Ayer?”
“Huh?” Keith asked, looking up at him as if he had no idea why he was standing there.
“Do you take Dallas to be your wife?”
Keith’s gaze slid to her, and one question trumped all the others. He glanced at the preacher and then at her. Finally his gaze settled on the preacher. “Hold that thought.”
“I can call a tow truck,” Greg said as they stood beside the road, examining the heap that used to be a car.
“I’m sorry.” Maggie glanced at him. “You were supposed to be at the wedding. I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. I’d rather be out here with you than at some pretentious showboat wedding anyway.” He smiled at her. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ll call a tow truck to come get this. We can go back to my place.”
Panic seized her, but he just smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave myself.”
“Keith, what do you think you’re you doing?” Dallas asked in a barely contained screech as he dragged her from the garden into the little side room. Once there, she yanked her wrist free of his grip. “This is not funny.”
“I’m not laughing.” He turned to her and put both hands on her arms which were bare owing to the strapless wedding gown. “Listen, I have to know something.”
Her eyes were wild with frustration. “What? That you’re insane?”
“No.” Seriousness snapped through him. “Listen to me, Dallas. I have to know something before we do this.”
“What? What in the world is so important that you humiliate me in front of six hundred people?”
Keith took a breath to settle the question in his heart. “Do you believe in God?”
At that, even her anger fell into incomprehension. “Wh…? Do I…? What kind of a question is that?”
“I have to know. It’s important to me.”
Dallas took that in, closed her eyes, and shook her head. “Keith, this is crazy. What d
ifference does it make if I believe in God or not?”
“Just a simple yes or no, Dallas. That’s all I need.”
She thought a little longer. “Well, yeah. I guess so. I mean. What’s not to believe?”
The answer wasn’t really an answer, more of a question. “Do you have faith that He’ll get you through life? I mean does He factor into your decisions at all?”
Her gaze turned decidedly skeptical. “God?”
His spirit was falling through her apathy toward the topic. “Yeah. Is He a real part of your life?”
“I…” She let out her breath. “I don’t know. What do you want me to say?”
“The truth, Dallas. I want the truth.”
The door swung open.
“What’s going on in here?” his father hissed.
“Please, Dad. We’re in the middle of something.”
“Yeah, does the word wedding come to mind?” his father asked.
“Please, Dad, just give us a minute.”
“You don’t have a minute, Keith. You are embarrassing me in front of half the state of Texas. Now get out here.”
“Is everything all right?” Vivian asked from outside.
His father ducked out. “Fine, Viv. Go sit down.”
Then just before his father could rip into him again, Dallas turned knowing eyes on him. “This is about her. Isn’t it?”
“Her? What her?” his father asked, coming back in.
“This is about that little tramp, that what’s her name? Maggie.” The name dripped like poison.
“Montgomery?” his father asked as his eyes widened, and too many pieces to count dropped into place behind them.
Keith let his hands drop. It really wasn’t about Maggie, but he would never be able to convince them of that. He sat back on something he couldn’t have named had he tried. “No, Dallas. This isn’t about Maggie. It’s about we’re not right for each other, and we never have been. We want different things from life. You want the money and the stuff that comes from being an Ayer. And I…” He glanced at his father. “Wish I had never been born an Ayer.”
“Keith Warren Ayer! Don’t you even talk like that! You are privileged to be a part of this family,” his father nearly yelled, only stopping himself because of the thousand ears outside no doubt listening for any sign of what was going on. “It’s a wonder I haven’t thrown you out before now!”
“Why, Dad? Because I wasn’t good enough for you?” Keith dragged his gaze up to his father’s, and hate and loathing were all he saw there. “Well, you know what? That’s pretty remarkable coming from somebody who killed three people and walked away like it never happened.”
The punch landed hard and true. The condescension in his father’s eyes fell away. “What…? How…?”
“What? You didn’t think I’d ever find out?” Keith asked. A haze of numbness so that he couldn’t really feel anything fell over him. “And I’m sure you threatened the others so they wouldn’t tell me, or did you just pay them off to keep them quiet?” His gaze came up and found Ike standing just behind his father.
The older cowboy couldn’t meet his gaze, and he looked like he’d rather run than be there at that moment.
“Yeah, well. You almost covered your tracks good enough.” His gaze dropped from Ike to his father. “Almost.”
“Keith…,” his father started.
Keith pulled himself to his feet and stepped over to Dallas. When his gaze came up, it was with true regret. “I’m really sorry you got mixed up in all this, but us getting married isn’t right, and it’s a lie I’m not willing to try to live.” He started to step past her.
“Keith, wait,” Dallas said, her dress whooshing as she turned. “Can’t we get married now, just… just so these people won’t know? We can always go down to city hall and get a divorce tomorrow.”
It was so hard to believe he’d almost forced himself to say, “I do” to her. “No, Dallas. Lying’s not my style.” With that, he turned instead to the inside door. A twist of the knob and he walked away from the whole, ugly horde of them forever.
“Can I get you something?” Greg asked as Maggie sat on his couch, trying to get everything that had just happened to line up in her head.
“No, thanks.”
“I’ve got Sprite,” he said, a teasing quality edging the statement.
She smiled up at him sadly and shook her head. Greg stood there, looking down at her for the longest time. Then he spun and sat on the couch, a full cushion away.
“Okay. Here’s what I don’t understand. Why didn’t you just go for it with Keith? Dallas wasn’t here. No one would ever have known.”
Maggie shook her head, the dreams she hadn’t let herself acknowledge were there flowed through her even now. “Keith isn’t like that.”
Greg turned to her. “That’s just it. Keith is like that, or at least he was. All through high school and college even after he met Dallas. Women were never an issue for him. He’d take what he wanted and never look back.”
Again Maggie shook her head. “That’s not the Keith I know. He’s sweet and kind, and he cares about people—not just on the outside but about how they really are in here.” She put her hand to her heart and then let it slide up her neck. “At least that’s who I thought he was.”
With a twist, Greg took his jacket off and laid it on the couch arm, smoothing the fabric with his hand. However, halfway down it, he stopped.
“What?” she asked, seeing his hesitation.
Slowly Greg reached into the folds and pulled out a little box. “Hmm. Something tells me they’ll be wondering where these are.” At that moment Greg’s cell phone on the counter beeped, and both gazes went to it. He stood, went to it, and answered it. “Hello? Oh. Hi.”
His gaze traced to hers, and Maggie caught the implication. Panic surged through her as she shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “Don’t tell them I’m here.”
Greg turned to the phone call. “No, man. I looked. I don’t know where she went.”
Keith considered leaving the guesthouse. Dallas already had amidst a hail of curses from both her and her parents. He stood there, absorbing them all as they gathered her things and left. They were right. He was good-for-nothing. He had led her on in hopes of making everyone believe he was something he was not. And he had let her down in the worst way imaginable. The only thing that could conceivably have been worse would have been if he’d actually married her.
When they were gone, he sat down in the chair and pulled the Bible from the little compartment. Something about the fact that it didn’t have to be hidden anymore lifted his spirit from the muck ever-so-slightly. He let it fall open to no particular page. At 2 Peter, he started reading.
He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.
Keith groaned with the reading and let his head fall back on the recliner. “God, how could You be patient with me? Me, of all people. I’ve done such horrible things. I was so hurt, I didn’t care who got hurt because of me.” The pain of a life poorly lived knifed through him. “Why don’t You just put me out of my misery and get it over with?”
His hand slid the pages to the side as the anguish gushed over him. “I’m not worthy of You, Lord. Can’t You see that?” His gaze fell to the words even as tears blinded them from his sight.
Because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.
Keith breathed in those words, read them again, and breathed some more. It was like inhaling God for the first time. “I don’t understand, God. I don’t understand why You won’t just let me drop. That’s what I deserve.” Again his hands worked the pages and his gaze fell to the words there.
Where can I go from Thy Spirit? Or where can I flee from Thy presence? If I ascend to heaven, Thou art there; if I make my bed in Sheol, behold, Thou art there.
He didn’t know where Sheol was,
but he had a sneaking suspicion that God had been there and every other place Keith had ever been. God, for some inexplicable reason, seemed to be dogging his every step. Exhaustion was beginning to take over, but he let his fingers trace through the pages one last time. The red attracted his gaze.
If any man is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ‘From his innermost being shall flow rivers of living water.’
Living water. What had the preacher said about filling that place, that hole with anything other than God? That’s what Keith felt like he’d been doing for all of 30 years—filling and filling and filling, and always finding the hole empty. First it was spending his father’s money—cars, women, wine—the world made it look so easy. Yet, at the end of the day, at the end of every party, when he woke up in the morning in someone else’s bed, the emptiness was always right there with him.
It was just like that verse said, “Where can I run from it?” It followed him. No. It didn’t just follow him. It was a part of him. No, not even just that. It was him. He was the empty hole, waiting, hoping, wishing, pleading for something or someone to fill it. And still it was empty until a young lady with funny glasses and shoes two sizes too big had stumbled into his life.
He closed the Bible and ran his hand over it. The others had all given him themselves—for an hour, for a night, but she had given him something better, something he had been searching for his whole life. She had given him the answer to filling the hole.
As if compelled by some force he didn’t recognize, Keith got up and went to the phone. He dialed information, and in minutes he had the number for Del Rio. Home. Yes, Maggie would have gone home.
The shower had felt good. It calmed her and warmed her—at least it had tried. True to his word, Greg had been nothing but kind. She knew he was still trying to sort everything out, but then again, so was she. Her hair still dripping she walked into the living room, toweling it out.
Coming Home: (Contemporary Christian Romance Boxed Set): Three Stories of Love, Faith, Struggle & Hope Page 54