After all, where else did she have to run?
Libby felt as if she’d been trampled by a herd of horses. She opened her eyes and groaned. What was—?
Panic reached up and she started to wheeze. A hospital room, complete with a hanging pink curtain and an IV in her arm. Her father sitting on one side, his head on the bed, and Missy asleep on the other side. What had happened? What—she remembered . . . what did she remember?
Luther and JB . . .
She gasped, putting her hands over her mouth. “What—?”
“Shh, honey. Shh.” Her father raised his head, blinking, apparently exhausted or at least groggy. “You’re okay.”
She put her hand to her head and felt a stitch; her mouth tasted funny and her tongue felt big. “What . . . did Luther and JB . . .” She swallowed, feeling sick. “I remember them hitting me, and then Luther—but he didn’t. Someone . . .”
“Yes, they’ve been arrested.”
She was staring at her father, at his pained expression, when memory whooshed back, and suddenly she saw it all on fast-forward. Gideon tackling JB and then getting kicked, and Luther jumping on him, and— “Daddy, what about Gideon? Is he—did they hurt him?”
Missy was awake now and she stood up. “Gideon’s going to be okay. He got out of surgery a couple hours ago.”
Her father fired Missy an age-old look that he used from the pulpit when he wanted them to sit still and be quiet.
“Surgery?” Libby heard the shrill note of panic in her voice. “Why—how bad?”
Her father took her hand. “He had some internal bleeding from a broken rib. But I think he’s going to be okay.”
“I want to see him.”
“I don’t think—,” her father started.
“Right now, Daddy. Right now.” She threw back her covers and swung her legs over the bed on the side of the IV cradle. “Now.”
Missy held out her hand. Libby heard her father sigh. “You’re not the only one who has to talk to him,” he said in a tone that made Libby wonder what had transpired between these two men in her life.
Gideon had just been transferred from ICU, but it still rattled Libby to see him in the bed, a tube in his arm, an oxygen cannula under his nose. His purple eye was nearly swollen shut. His head had a line of stitches.
Beside him sat Lincoln, looking as concerned as if he might be Gideon’s lost brother. And sprawled, sleeping, on the other bed was . . .
“Who is that?” Libby stared at the blonde. She glanced at Lincoln.
“Elise Fontaine. She’s a . . . coworker.” He gave Libby a small smile, his voice low. “She’s had a long morning, and she’s hiding from the press, so don’t speak too loudly.”
“There’s press here?”
He made a face. “In force.”
“How is he?”
“I think he’s going to make it.” Lincoln looked at Gideon with such fondness that Libby wanted to hug him.
Gideon stirred and opened his good eye. His gaze fixed on Libby. “Hey there,” he whispered between parched lips.
Libby wanted to soar, but when Lincoln offered her his chair, she moved stiffly into it.
“I think I’ll stand guard in the hall,” he said.
Libby took Gideon’s hand, but before she could speak, her father interrupted. “I owe you an apology, Gideon.”
Gideon’s expression tightened, the smallest movement of his mouth that spoke of stress. “You were angry.”
“I was afraid. And not just last night. Ever since you moved to this town. I have plans for my daughter, and I thought you threatened them. But I should have trusted Libby. And what she sees in you.” He nodded at Gideon. “Thank you, son.”
Even though Gideon looked away, Libby could see that, for a second, his eyes grew glossy. “Thanks, sir.”
“I’m just glad you were there—”
“It wasn’t me.” Gideon glanced at Libby. “Actually, I lost her. But . . . well, maybe it was God or something, because just when I needed to, I saw them.” He squeezed Libby’s hand. “Libby keeps telling me that there’s no such thing as fate. I guess I’m starting to believe her.”
“I’d say that’s a good start.” Libby’s father smiled at her. “I’ll wait in the hall.”
“Sir?” Gideon cast a look at Libby. “I don’t suppose this is a good time to ask if I can . . . maybe . . . date your daughter?”
Her father smiled. “I suppose we’ll see you at church when you’re up and about?”
“You will, sir.”
He looked at Libby and nodded.
Gideon watched him leave, then turned to Libby. The look in his eyes made her fall in love with him all over again. She did love him, as much as she knew about love. And like her dad said, that was a good start.
“I think your dad likes me,” he said softly.
“Yeah. Him and a lot of other people.”
Gideon brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it, then held it to his chest as he closed his eyes, a smile on his face.
CHAPTER 20
STEFANIE DIDN’T WANT TO blame Lincoln. Not after he’d been a hero, not after he’d paid Gideon’s hospital bills, and not after he’d hired a lawyer to reduce the charges of auto theft—apparently Gideon’s stolen Impala had been marked for towing—and dismiss the counts of kidnapping, even though as Macey and Haley’s brother, he had the right to sue for custody. He’d bargained for probation and community service, something that promised to keep Gideon in Phillips for at least six months. Lincoln’s lawyer had even gotten the charges against the Noble family dismissed.
But because of Lincoln and his 911 call, Social Services had absorbed Haley and Macey into the foster system. Stefanie felt so hollow, she thought she might break in half.
What was worse, Lincoln Cash was bigger than ever. And beautiful, perfect Elise Fontaine was right beside him, sharing his moment of glory.
He’d upped his hero status with his late-night pseudo ambulance run of Gideon to the Sheridan hospital. The press picture showed him with Elise, a harried look on his face, worried about one of his new ranch hands, as the press labeled Gideon. Gideon had been released two days after his surgery, and after a week of recuperation at the Buckle, he spent nearly every waking moment at the Spotlight Ranch.
From the way Gideon talked, Lincoln had become his big brother. He so clearly adored Lincoln that it became harder and harder for Stefanie to stay angry at the man.
Especially since he’d made an attempt to apologize. He’d left countless messages on her answering machine, but after two weeks, they’d started to peter out. Hopefully he’d get the hint, pack his things, and return to Hollywood, where he belonged. It was starting to get difficult to find a parking place in Phillips since Lincoln’s announcements about the scholarships the American Film Institute was handing out to prospective filmmakers had made every supermarket rag as well as People magazine.
Maybe she should move. She couldn’t if she hoped to get Haley and Macey back. Currently, however, Social Services wasn’t taking her calls.
She should be thankful she wasn’t in jail, perhaps. Gideon had seen the girls once—they were staying in a group home in Sheridan. He mentioned, with a hitch in his voice, that Haley had reverted to her silent mode.
Stefanie feared what Macey might be doing to cope.
Gideon held out little hope for his sisters to be released to him, despite the grace from the court system. However, his rescue of Libby had made him a town hero of sorts, and Stefanie couldn’t help but note the way Pastor Pike had greeted him this morning as Stefanie and Gideon arrived at church, right ahead of Piper and Nick. It seemed that maybe the pastor was giving Gideon a fresh start.
Stefanie watched with a kind of sisterly pride as Gideon stood in the front row, singing from his open hymnal.
Of course, she had to have somewhere to look, because like a glutton for punishment, her gaze kept returning to Lincoln on the left-hand side, fourth pew from the front.
Stefa
nie tried not to choke on the words of the hymn. She closed her eyes against a wave of shame. If Lincoln wanted to worship God, she shouldn’t judge him. Even if a throng of reporters presently camped outside church made the entire thing seem like a publicity stunt.
When the congregation finished singing, Stefanie sat down. Piper reached over and squeezed her hand.
Their conversation last night over a very quiet and lonely dinner rushed back at Stefanie.
“Tell me again why you aren’t marching right over and telling Lincoln exactly how you feel about him,” Piper had said.
“Because he doesn’t love me. And I don’t expect him to. He has a much different life than I do, and I can’t barge into it.”
“He had no problem barging into yours.”
“Piper, I’m serious. I don’t fit into his world. And frankly he doesn’t fit into mine. Can you seriously see me jetting off to hang out on his movie sets or hanging on his arm at fancy premieres?”
“Yes. I think you’d look great on the red carpet in some fancy dress. You could ask Kat if you could borrow some of her outfits.”
“Stop. It’s more than that. I’m just his neighbor.”
“I don’t think he meant that.”
Stefanie only had to stop and remember the look on his face when Elise had asked him who Stefanie was in his life. Right then, her world teetered on a precipice, and even as she held her breath, she’d known. Lincoln needed his fame. His women. His cars, his movies, his tabloids. He needed them to keep himself from hiding in the dark and letting his fears, the truth of his condition, consume him. Deep down, he was still the little boy hiding in the junkyard, waiting for E-bro to haul him out and pummel him. To prove he was weak before the entire world.
What hurt the most was that she had believed, truly believed with everything inside her, that he was stronger than that. Or maybe she’d only seen what she wanted to.
Oh, how Stefanie suddenly missed Lewis.
Because after she had left the hospital, after she’d made it home and cocooned herself in her comforter, after she’d let the pain of losing Macey and Haley pour through her, she’d realized what Lincoln had been afraid of all this time.
He was afraid that she couldn’t love him if she met the real him.
Lewis was the man he’d been trying to hide. Although he thought Lewis was someone to be ashamed of, Lewis was the man she’d begun to love.
As Stefanie sat in church, watching half the congregation watch Lincoln, a wave of sadness swept through her. They weren’t so different, she and Lincoln, she and Lewis. Never sure of who they were or where they belonged.
After the service, she waited for Gideon outside in the churchyard. Lincoln stopped and shook the pastor’s hand amid a serenade of flashes and questions from the press about his relationship with Elise.
Stefanie shook her head. Even if the rumors were true and he and Elise were an item, a person had to be blind to miss the look of annoyance on Lincoln’s face as he told them not to get ahead of themselves.
She shouldn’t make any assumptions either. But it was hard not to. Lincoln looked magnificent today, in a gray shirt, black suit pants, and silver aviator sunglasses, a slight wind blowing his recently trimmed hair. He’d look great for this week’s cover—or wherever his picture ended up. But perhaps only she noticed the way he gripped the railing of the stairs as he made his way down.
Leave him alone. The thought panged inside her. She put on her sunglasses before he could see her watching him.
“Can you believe all this hype about Lincoln?” Gideon said, walking up to Stefanie. She noted Libby beside him, grinning, her hand in his. Gideon seemed to be on the mend, although he still walked gingerly. Libby still wore a haunted look around her eyes, but it faded when she was with Gideon.
“Yes, I can believe it.” Stefanie opened the truck door. “Maybe it’ll convince the town to pave the church parking lot. Ready to go?”
“Uh . . .” Gideon held up Libby’s hand, giving Stefanie a strange look. “Pastor Pike invited me over for dinner and . . .”
Looking at Libby, Stefanie wondered if she’d ever worn such a happy expression as she saw on Libby’s face now. Certainly not with Doug . . . but with Lincoln?
She didn’t want to go there. “Of course, Gideon. Have fun.”
She watched them walk away, but it was long after they’d vanished into the crowd that she realized her gaze had landed on Lincoln as he’d gotten into his pickup and driven away with her heart.
Lincoln had made a mess of everyone’s lives and he knew it. The quaint town of Phillips had gone from lazy and quiet to a beehive of activity. The Buffalo Saloon had never had so many cowboy wannabes riding the mechanical bull, and a deputy from Billings had taken up full-time residence outside the bar to head off drunk drivers. For a couple of days, there’d been photographers sleeping in their cars, and Missy’s diner at dawn resembled an LA club on a Friday night.
He had turned the town into a three-ring circus. Lincoln had the strange urge to apologize everywhere he went. Especially to Stefanie Noble.
He drove back to the ranch, wishing Stefanie had at least raised her hand in greeting this morning at church. He’d gotten so used to seeing her in working clothes that the long floral skirt and yellow blouse under a jean jacket had thrown him right off his game. Especially when she wore her hair down, and all he could think of through most of the service—much to his chagrin—was the memory of winding his hands through her hair. Of holding her in his arms. Of the way she smiled up at him, her eyes shining, after he kissed her.
His ears did perk up, however, when Pastor Pike began his sermon. These last two weeks, it seemed as if the minister had designed his words for Lincoln—talking about grace and strength. Lincoln had ordered a Bible online so he could look up the verse in Hebrews he and Pastor Pike had talked about at the hospital.
He especially clung to God’s words in Hebrews 13: “I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.” It felt like too much promise for a man like Lincoln, who’d done exactly that to God. Still, although Lincoln couldn’t name the sizzle inside him, sometimes he thought it felt a lot like hope.
Elise was lounged on the back deck of the porch reading a magazine when he got home. She didn’t look at him, just raised her voice. “Don’t you think that going to church is a little overkill?”
He walked out to the deck and stood watching a few of his homely herd grazing in the field. “You have something against God?” She wore sunglasses that swallowed half her face, a pair of black stiletto boots, low-rider cargo pants, and a bejeweled tank. She might as well be wearing a sign that read Walking Sin.
“No. I used to go to Sunday school. I know the Ten Commandments. But I just don’t know what’s gotten into you in the past couple of weeks.” She put down the magazine, stood up, and ran her hand down his arm. “This is the first time we’ve been alone. I feel like you’ve been ignoring me. And today, when Dex had to go into Sheridan, you leave me for church.”
Lincoln moved away from her. “I’m not ignoring you. Dex has me taping interviews and evaluating scripts and . . .” And he wasn’t interested in anything Elise had to offer. Not anymore. In fact, the idea of holding anyone other than Stefanie in his arms made his stomach knot.
Elise sat down in a huff. He glanced at her. Yes, there was probably something wrong with him to turn down a woman like Elise.
His brain said he needed Elise if he wanted to stay on top of the game. Dex liked her, and she had megastar written all over her. Besides, Stefanie obviously didn’t want him. He felt like he had when he first started knocking on doors in the film industry.
Shut out.
Invisible.
Seeing Stefanie today had only raked up every hidden, forgotten, ridiculous hope that they might have a future together. What had he been thinking anyway? Stefanie had a life here—one firmly rooted in her land, her horses. He was mucking it up.
And not just with the press people who parked in
the high school football field and clogged the only road between Phillips and the Silver Buckle. Lincoln still hadn’t tracked down who had poisoned Clancy and driven his four-wheeler off the road. He’d hoped for a confession from JB and Luther. In fact, he had offered to go down to police HQ and offer some assistance in that area. However, although JB had turned on Luther and claimed the attack on Libby had been payback for Gideon’s part in getting Luther fired, both men denied any involvement in the other two incidents. As much as Lincoln wanted to believe it was them, he had to agree that neither JB nor Luther had any clear motive to kill Stefanie’s dog. Thankfully, they wouldn’t get away with hurting Libby. Both men had been shipped to Sheridan to wait for their court date.
Then there was the issue with Lincoln’s dead new truck. Gideon had discovered a broken right headlight when he’d had it hauled into town for repairs. But Lincoln knew he hadn’t run into anything, especially with the truck sitting in the garage. Worse, after he’d had the truck checked out, even the mechanic couldn’t explain the short between the engine computer and the starter.
He couldn’t escape the sense that someone had tampered with his vehicle in hopes of running him off the road.
Lincoln had started sleeping with his bedroom door locked, just in case Luther was innocent and Gina had somehow tracked Lincoln to Phillips. With the premiere of Unshackled scheduled for next weekend and a slew of critics and cast members flying in to attend, Lincoln would have to double security to get any sleep.
He glanced at Elise, who had picked up her magazine again and was pretending to read. Maybe he had been ignoring her.
With everything going on and after the dust cleared from the nightmare with Gideon and Libby, the one person he most wanted to talk to was Stefanie. He missed her smile and the easy way she had of listening and moving with his moods. She read him better than anyone did, and even when he wanted to be left alone, she wouldn’t let him. He needed that most of all.
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