Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2

by Ruth Logan Herne, Allie Pleiter

  Jack pretended to clean out his ears. “Say what?”

  “Exactly. Now the council wants me to study any and all things that might give them clues about why the capsule might have been stolen. What was in it that brought someone’s attention. And then the mayor asked me point-blank to keep an eye on Lilibeth Shoemaker because she might be involved.”

  “Only if the capsule harbored makeup and shoes,” Jack supposed. “Why would they target a girl like Lilibeth? It— Ah. The initials.”

  “L.S.,” Liv confirmed. “But you’re right, there is no reason to think Lilibeth would have anything to do with digging up a time capsule.”

  “Getting dirty,” Jack deadpanned.

  The truth of his words lightened Liv’s expression. “That sums it up, right there. Lilibeth might be self-serving and obnoxious, but she’s young. Silly. And she doesn’t get her hands dirty for anything. I’m kind of amazed she’s working at the ice-cream parlor, but it does give her proximity to all of the Middletons’ customer base, and single, cute guys need food. In Lilibeth’s world, that’s a simple equation. Anyway, Jackson and Abigail Rose at the town hall want me to hunt for anything buried in the capsule that might have caught Lilibeth’s eye.”

  “A prospect for a rich husband?” Jack wondered, but the quest about Lilibeth made him further question the sensibilities involved. “No one in their right mind would suspect Lilibeth of being involved in anything more than borrowing her sisters’ clothes. Although with three girls in the house, that might be considered a capital offense.”

  Livvie’s grin rewarded him.

  “I’ll think about it, too,” he promised. Of course he’d think about it, because he didn’t like Liv’s look of worry. Her furrowed brow. He’d made a pledge to make her smile again. Hear her laugh more often. This was a chance to meet that goal. “And I don’t put much worth in anonymous notes, Liv. If someone knows something, he or she should have the gumption to just say it outright.”

  “Maybe they’re scared?”

  “Here? Really?” A crazy thought, right until Jack matched up the intentionally set fire at the rodeo. Maybe the note writer was worried for good reason, even in Jasper Gulch. “We might all have to take this stuff more seriously. The capsule theft. The fire. The gaps in the history.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure the council didn’t expect these gaps. I’ve got to give them my initial report next week, and explain that someone may have been doctoring the town’s historical records. I think it’s too much of a coincidence to not be related to the capsule theft,” she admitted. She shifted her gaze to meet his. “The capsule’s missing and so are parts of Jasper Gulch’s history. And now this note, unsigned. I think it’s pretty clear that the stuff going on is linked somehow. But I can’t think how or why.”

  Right now it was hard to think at all, looking down into Liv’s blue eyes. Her face, half-shadowed, reminded him of all the times they’d stood like this, saying goodbye at the end of an evening. The sweetness of her face, the earnest look in her eyes, the curve of her cheek in the sweep of barnyard light.

  He reached one hand to her cheek, just to see if the skin he remembered as if it was yesterday was still as soft and sweet.

  Yup.

  And was it his imagination, or did she turn her face into the palm of his hand for one quick second, letting him cradle the curve of smooth, feminine skin?

  But then she straightened, stepped back, sent him a scolding look and tsk-tsked him with her finger. “Knock it off.”

  He smiled, knowing she wasn’t putting too much sting into the reprimand as he opened the car door for her. “I didn’t promise, remember? I merely said I understood the rules.”

  The look on her face said she remembered, all right, but as she offered him a pretend frown through the driver’s-side window, he saw something else, something that nearly brought him to his knees, begging forgiveness.

  A sheen of tears, blinked back.

  Nothing major, Liv had never been a crier, but he knew what he saw. His gesture, so sweet and good on his part, took her back to a broken heart she never should have had. His stupidity and stubbornness had created a chasm that couldn’t be shrugged away because he was finally growing up enough to put things right in his world, mostly because it took him way too long.

  He’d knocked her universe into disarray eight years before, and it would take more than a few bowls of rice pudding to set things right. But if God gave him time?

  He’d do what he could.

  Chapter Seven

  You should be tucked in the center of downtown, squinting over scripted penmanship and wiping off dusty volumes of decades-old facts. What are you thinking, girlfriend?

  Liv hauled in a deep breath, the scent of horse, hay and Big Sky drenching her.

  This felt like home. A home she didn’t dare long for, a home she’d written off long ago, but there was no denying that whenever she set foot onto the Double M, the place engulfed her like a cozy room on a winter’s night.

  Home is where the heart is.

  Jack’s mother had loved that saying and Liv had spent a lot of time talking with her back in the day. She’d learned horse husbandry at Mary Beth’s side, the blend of gentle-to-firm so important with large animals.

  At present, the young stallion was taking direction from Jack. He’d decided right off to take the young horse under his wing, urging and guiding him to Double M standards. The mares were set apart for a bit, long enough to make sure they weren’t harboring anything dangerous to the rest of the herd, and caring for them was a simple task. Animals brought up with love just expected it along the way, and the mares were no exception.

  But the buckskin, timid, tired and torn about whom to trust, was Liv’s personal responsibility and she waited every morning until Jack should be out on the range before heading to the Double M.

  Bawk! Bawk!

  I’m not a chicken, she scolded her inner voice. I’d call it smart. Savvy. Avoiding conflict isn’t cowardice, it’s wise.

  It’s not conflict you’re avoiding, her conscience returned. It’s emotion because you went moony-eyed when Jack cupped your cheek last week. And then you acted surprised by the old feelings it stirred, as if you’d ever gotten over him. Please. Let’s play this straight, shall we?

  Liv shoved the inner scolding aside. She’d gotten over being dumped years ago. Hadn’t she proved that by living in Chicago and ignoring Jack’s presence? And then she’d moved on to a new life, a new job, a marriage. Proof enough right there.

  The horse sighed as she smoothed the brush over his back in long, slow strokes. She was building confidence with him. And maybe with herself.

  An engine rolled into the barnyard and Liv paused, startled. Jack? Mick? Why would they be back here midmorning?

  Two young voices shouted glee as Maggie and Brian Landry raced past the open barn framing the paddock’s far edge. Carrie’s caution sounded behind them, a reminder to calm down, go slow, lower their voices. She poked her head into the near paddock, spotted Liv and came her way. “I saw your car tucked on the far side of the barn and figured you were back here. How’s he doing?”

  “Better, maybe. It’s hard to tell because his condition was so bad.” Liv kept her voice crooning-low, comforting the gelding while answering Carrie, a trick Mary Beth McGuire had shared years back. “If we’re on the right track, another two weeks should work wonders. And two months down the road? We should see him for who he really is.”

  “Amazing endurance,” Carrie said softly. She watched the kids as they circled the far paddock, Maggie fearlessly perched on the bottom rail, chatting with the new mares, while Brian hung to the outside, watching. “I didn’t used to think about things like that. Faith. Fortitude. Endurance. But when my husband died, I started to see things in a new light because I
had to.” She reached in and stroked the horse’s face with a smooth touch. “I didn’t realize I was kind of going through the motions of living until I got slapped upside the head with a dose of reality. Nothing like a total left turn to remind us how precious and tenuous life is. So much we take for granted.”

  Liv worked the brush over the horse’s hindquarters, keeping her touch light. Hints of new hair growth along his flank said the upgraded diet was starting to take effect. “It had to be hard.” She turned her gaze toward the two children, a summer picture of Montana ranch life. “To lose someone you love and become a single parent overnight. How do you manage, Carrie?”

  Carrie’s smile said the answer was obvious. “God. Faith. Time. Healing. Once I got over being mad, crazy overprotective of the kids and fairly self-defeating, I realized life offers us opportunities all the time. But it doesn’t come with guarantees, so I took off my blinders and grabbed hold of the reins. My husband was a good man, a wonderful father and he had a heart of gold. But he laughed in the face of God, shrugging off faith as a nonessential entity.” She grimaced, remembering, then paused and called out a soft caution to Maggie.

  “He’d quote scientific jargon to minimize God’s reality,” she went on once Maggie was back on safe ground. “I figured it was his way. But when he was gone...” She breathed deep, consternation marking her gaze. “His fate plagued me. Was he saved? Did he accept God or dismiss him to the very end? I nearly drove myself crazy worrying about it until I realized there was nothing I could do to change the past, but I was plenty strong enough to influence the future of these children. So I moved out of the city, got a job at a thriving medical practice between here and Bozeman and brought the kids out to the country and into church. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m totally on the right track, despite our loss. In time, God’s love prevails.”

  Her words piqued Liv. “Didn’t you feel betrayed when he died, though? As if God wasn’t watching out for you?”

  Carrie pondered the question for a moment, then nodded. “I was so sad, then angry, and then depressed and angry again, but I kept praying, hoping I’d understand why things happen the way they do.”

  “And do you? Understand them?”

  Carrie called a second note of caution to Maggie, who seemed to think the top rail was okay to rest on. It wasn’t, and Carrie reminded her of that in no uncertain terms. “I think I’ve learned to separate what God does versus man’s free will. That things happen, and we bear the weight of our own choices, but sometimes we’re affected by those of others. Family. Friends. People who seek evil. And that made me remember that while I’m not in charge of the world, I’m in charge of my home and my family. It helped me to surround myself with the kind of people I want Brian and Maggie to be when they grow up. Faithful. Strong. Hardworking.”

  “Like the McGuires.”

  Carrie smiled quickly. “Yes. And Mick’s gentle manner and big old hugs don’t hurt anything. He doesn’t have to prove himself day after day the way my husband did, although he’s every bit as strong and brave. He’s just not a crazy risk-taker. I’m okay with that. I’m going to take the kids down to the creek to look for turtles in the sun. They’ll be back in school before too long and there won’t be time for turtle watching. See ya’.”

  Carrie’s words reminded Liv of herself, only in reverse.

  When Jack left her, she’d cocooned herself. She didn’t look left or right, and refused to think about dating. And when she finally did start going out again, she sought the total opposite of Jack McGuire. Billy Margulies was a quick-talking sales representative for a pharmaceuticals company, a guy who made his living telling medical staff what they wanted to hear, and blurring the lines of integrity to clinch a sale was in his comfort zone. That should have given her a clue right there.

  Jack?

  He wasn’t a risk-taker the way Carrie described, but he embraced everything with a winner’s touch. Baseball. His finance career in Illinois. And now the Double M, growing and thriving under the direction of the McGuire men.

  Had she deliberately chosen a man different from Jack to push aside the memories?

  When Billy left, he told her he needed a wife whose head wasn’t always in books. Did she immerse herself in her work and research in Helena to avoid a deepening relationship with her husband?

  No.

  Her gut clenched, because the real answer was “maybe.” Internal guilt spiked. She’d been a good wife to Billy in many ways, but were they made for each other? Had she taken God’s directive into consideration or gone headlong into her marriage thinking she had total control?

  With her divorce final, her job gone and doors to opportunity open in multiple directions, how could she pick? How dare she choose? What guarantee was there that she was making the right choice after so many wrong ones?

  A soft sigh from the horse reminded her of the task at hand. She hummed softly as she groomed him, letting him adjust to her touch, her voice, while she wondered at Carrie’s words.

  God’s touch versus free will. The two were sometimes at odds, but it had been a long time since she sought the former. Maybe it was time for her own leap of faith.

  Her phone buzzed. She set the brush aside and checked the caller.

  Jack.

  She hesitated, surrounded by the beauty of Jack’s life, the ranch, the paddocks, the dry grass meadow. In the distance, three figures grew smaller as they hiked toward the creek, a reminder that life goes on. Hauling in a deep breath, she answered the phone. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself. What have you been doing these past few days? I’ve called and gotten no answer.”

  “I answered now.”

  “True enough. Okay.” He paused, then asked, “We’ve got some things to finalize for the game. Can I stop by tonight?”

  Her parents would arrive tomorrow with Grandma and Grandpa, so tonight worked well. “Tonight’s good. Around seven?”

  “Can we make it seven-thirty? We had a problem upland and Dad and I need to repair some fence, then shift cows and we’ve only got one extra hand here today. I probably won’t get back to the house until close to seven.”

  “A long day.”

  “But worth it. And if I get to see you at the end of it, then I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon counting my blessings.”

  Was she a blessing? Had she been a blessing to anyone these past years? Maybe not, but that could change, couldn’t it? “I’ll make you supper. You come and eat, we’ll figure out the last of the concessions and the raffles and we’ll be all set for the game. As long as the remaining five guys got back to you.”

  “They did. All but one are coming. And Garrison can come but he can’t play because of contract stipulations to avoid injury.”

  “We can have him sign autographs, then. He can be a side attraction while you guys are the main event.”

  His laugh warmed her. “I like how you think. All right, see you tonight. And, Liv?”

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “Thanks for coming by every day to take care of the buckskin. He needs a name, but I figure that’s your job.”

  “But he’s not my horse.” She’d asked for naming rights the day of the auction, but Liv knew the score. If you named an animal, he or she became your responsibility. It was a thought she welcomed and a reality that made her gut-clenching nervous because keeping her distance from Jack was tough. If she let the horse draw her further in? Tough could become downright impossible.

  “Near enough. And he deserves a name from someone who truly loves him.”

  Her heart melted. She’d never been asked to name a horse before, but she’d already christened this guy in her head. “Then he’s Little Dill,” she told him. “We’ll call him Dilly because he reminds us of Dillinger.”

  “Perfect.”

&n
bsp; It thrilled her to hear the approval in Jack’s voice. “See you tonight, cowboy.”

  “Until then.”

  She imagined him touching the brim of his hat, the courtly move destined to win a girl’s heart. He’d won hers years ago, and if she was honest with herself, she was in danger of losing it all over again.

  Common sense said she should finish the town history and hit the road. She could hole up in a college town and spend her days teaching about old times, former lives.

  But the air and the sky and the trees laughed at that option, so she finished caring for the gentle-natured horse and headed back to her parents’ house. She’d promised Jack supper.

  Was she a good cook?

  Not really. But with time on her side and the right recipe, she could pull this together. She’d go home, clean up, head to the Middletons’ grocery and get whatever she needed, because this one night she intended to be the best cook she could be.

  Right until a midafternoon thunderstorm swept through in an angry fifteen-minute tempest that downed tree branches and a few wires, nipping electricity for over half the town. From that moment on, things went from bad to worse and by the time Jack showed up on her step for his promised meal, she was still airing out the house from her current cooking mishap with a score of Liv–0, old propane cook-stove on the back porch–1.

  * * *

  “Burning supper isn’t a big deal. Really. We’ll just grab food someplace. Can I come in?” Jack looked over Liv’s head to the rooms beyond and pretended to ignore the heavy scent of burned meat and vegetables. “I won’t laugh. I promise.”

  He didn’t laugh when he stepped through the front door of the Franklin house.

  He sighed.

  The gracious old oak dining room table was set for two. Twin candles stood tall in cut-crystal candleholders, and Mrs. Franklin’s gold-rimmed china sparkled against an antique crocheted tablecloth, ivoried with age. “Liv, that’s beautiful.”

  “What? The table?” She looked up at him as his meaning dawned and half choked out an answer. “You think I set that for you? Us?”