Stefanie touched the flowers on the dress. “It’s gold.”
Gold.
“Go to the premiere, Stef. Go in this dress of gold and see what love story might be waiting for you.”
Lincoln knew he shouldn’t be surprised that Dex had pulled it off. Not that Delia hadn’t helped—well, her and a slew of party planners who camped out at his home in the newly constructed guest bunkhouse that stood on the former John Kincaid homestead. Now his ranch looked more like a frontier hotel preparing for a wedding. Enormous white tents had been erected in the yard, and the smell of barbecue ribs from the grills the caterers brought in had everyone salivating. A red carpet had been run out from the theater and a perimeter erected for the press, enforced by an army of private security, all of whom had Gina’s picture in their breast pockets.
Lincoln had ordered a pair of snakeskin boots made for the event and paired it with a silk shirt and black tails. Elise wore a scoop-neck, princess-cut red ball gown and black past-the-elbow gloves, her hair piled high on her head.
His assistant, Delia, who had flown in two weeks ago, looked stunning in a black dress that accentuated her dark skin and flashing brown eyes. She had the party well in hand, and even as Lincoln sat in his office, leaning against the desk and watching the crowd and the chaos outside, he could hear her barking orders.
Where was Stefanie?
“Knock, knock,” a voice said.
Lincoln motioned for John Kincaid to enter. At over six feet tall and cowboy to the bone, John had shocked the world when he revealed his identity as a Western romance author. But no one minded when his book hit the best-seller list for twenty-six weeks straight. He hadn’t ditched his cowboy roots tonight either, despite the black silk suit. Under it he wore a shiny gambler’s vest.
“It’s the height of arrogance to bring the crowds to you, pal,” John said, holding out his hand. “And what did you do to my ranch?”
“A few improvements. Indoor plumbing, electricity—you know, the works.” Lincoln dodged a fake punch, laughing. “I think you’ll like what I did to the barn.” The fact that John had owned the land with his family for fifty-plus years should have left Lincoln worried about the changes he had made, but John had washed his hands of the ranch when he moved last year, taking with him his best souvenir from his life in Phillips: his beautiful wife, Lolly. Lincoln looked past John, searching for her. “Where’s your inspiration?”
“In the kitchen, of course.” John shook his head. “She’s going crazy with too little to do. I think we’re going to open a restaurant.”
John and Lolly had moved to LA last fall, right after their quick wedding in Hawaii and after selling Lolly’s railroad car diner in Phillips to Missy Pike. But the way Lolly could put together a pie, Lincoln could easily see their place being the hottest eatery in Pasadena.
“I’ve been catching up with the locals. Sounds like you’ve made your mark here.” John walked over to the window, staring out. “And I met Gideon and his sisters. Nice kid, even if he did burn my house down.”
Lincoln smiled at the kindness in John’s face. The fact that Macey and Haley’s caseworker had allowed them to attend the premiere only made this day more spectacular.
That was, if Stefanie turned the day from dark to sunny with her arrival.
Please, Stefanie, show up.
Please believe that I am different than Doug Carlisle. Give me a chance to prove myself. And if things didn’t turn out the way he hoped, he still wanted to see her smile when she saw Macey and Haley decked out in their fancy dresses. Even Gideon had agreed to wear a tux.
“I saw Nick outside. And Piper. She looks like she’s going to pop any second,” John said.
“I sincerely hope it won’t be tonight. I need a nice calm party without any action scenes or drama.”
“Speaking of drama . . .” John turned away from the window and smiled as the limousine driver who transported people from the parking area down by the gate to the house opened the door for the latest passenger.
Stefanie had come. Wearing the dress.
Everything inside Lincoln turned to liquid.
Her hair was down and curled in dark rich waves past her shoulders. She wore makeup—brown around her eyes and a pink mouth that now gave a tentative smile. And the dress—Stefanie shimmered in all that gold, her figure perfectly outlined in the corset top, the flow of the skirt. He’d told Delia exactly what he wanted, and she’d sent him a list of samples from his favorite designers. He’d finally found the right one, the one that told Stefanie exactly how he felt about her.
She came up the porch steps, and suddenly it hit him. He loved her. That realization was carried in on a breath that felt at once cleansing and new. Of course he loved her. Not the kind of love he’d uttered so many times in the movies and not the love that Elise offered. But a love that wanted only the best for her, wanted to see her laugh and shine, a love that needed her and knew that was okay. Those feelings bunched up right below his breastbone so he could hardly breathe with the fullness. He swallowed, aware that his mouth had dried, and he felt as if he might be falling, even as his thoughts whirred.
A living description of everything Nick had predicted.
“She’s here,” Lincoln said.
If John responded, Lincoln didn’t hear it as he strode from his office to meet Stefanie on the porch.
Bathed in the light of camera flashes, he took her hand and smiled down at her. “Wow. You look incredible.”
“Thank you. I . . . like the dress.”
He stood on the porch a moment longer, her hand in his, and hoped the cameras caught every nuance of delight on his face. “Me too.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Come inside.”
He wanted to take her in his office and tell her exactly what he’d been thinking and feeling, but Lolly met Stefanie as they went inside and swooped her into an embrace. Lolly looked like a woman who knew herself in a sleeveless gown of hot coral with a mock turtleneck top that accentuated her shoulders and regal neck. She had her blonde hair pulled behind her ears with a pair of diamond clips.
“Can you believe all this?” She looped her arm through Stefanie’s. “When John said Lincoln bought his ranch and was remodeling it, I had no idea he really meant remodeling it.”
Stefanie glanced at Lincoln. He couldn’t read her eyes when she said, “I know. He’s full of surprises.”
He wanted to remove her from Lolly’s grip and pull her into his office and kiss her. More than that, he wanted to tell her . . . that . . . Oh, the words clogged in his chest. He even winced under the pressure. He’d never told a woman he loved her before. Not . . . really. Not when it meant reaching inside his chest and giving her the opportunity to walk away with his heart, leaving him hollow and broken.
But she’d shown up in the dress. Did that mean she’d forgiven him?
He followed the women out to the back, where Lolly was already introducing Stefanie to her new Hollywood friends.
“Stefanie!” The young voice came from the porch.
Lincoln was right behind Stefanie, heard her gasp as Haley ran up and launched herself, pink fluffy dress and all, into Stefanie’s arms.
Stefanie twirled the little girl around, laughing, then set her down. “What are you doing here?”
“Lincoln did it! He even bought me and Macey our dresses!” Haley stepped back and twirled like a ballerina for Stefanie. Even more beautiful was the way she giggled, her sweet voice, not confined by her sadness.
“You are beautiful, Haley!” Stefanie said, looking at Lincoln. Her shining eyes told him he’d done well.
Macey came up behind Haley. “There you are! I was looking all over for you!”
Lincoln had to admit, he’d been nervous picking out Macey’s simple black long-sleeved dress, but with the group home director’s help, he’d found one that was cool enough for Macey. She looked so elegant that he had a difficult time remembering the girl in ripped jeans and black eye makeup.
&nb
sp; Lincoln stood on the deck and watched his favorite girls shimmer.
The dinner lasted for over an hour, with speeches and ribs and music, courtesy of a country musician who’d agreed at the last minute to detour his tour, thanks to Dex’s promise to use him in an upcoming film. Lincoln had arranged for Stefanie and the Kincaids, the North kids, Libby and Pastor Pike, and Nick and Piper to all sit at the same table. He appreciated Karen’s special attention in serving them. She, as much as Delia, deserved a bonus for her hard work.
Lincoln’s seat was between Dex’s and Elise’s, but he made a point of working the crowd, mostly because he didn’t want a shot of Elise and him to make the front cover.
He was secretly holding out hope that his smile at Stefanie would be the hot news of the night. Maybe if she saw it on his face, she’d guess the truth and he wouldn’t have to . . .
Why was it suddenly so difficult to tell a woman he loved her?
Maybe because it was the first time in his life it wasn’t a well-delivered line but the truth.
He watched her from over the heads of his guests, laughing and having a good time with her family. She glanced his direction, as if she’d known he was watching her, and he didn’t look away. He was rewarded with a shy smile.
The cicadas came out as the music died down, and the guests started to move toward the theater. Lincoln hung behind, waiting for Stefanie.
She glided through the crowd like someone magical, and he was caught by the sight of her, even as Elise wrapped her hand around his arm. “Coming to the theater?”
He put his hand over hers, starting to disentangle it, just as Stefanie came near. She looked at Elise, then at Lincoln, and everything on her face seemed to shut off. Her mouth tightened, and her gaze slid past him as she followed the crowd to the theater.
“You did that on purpose,” Lincoln hissed at Elise. He threw her arm off his and glared at her.
She looked at him as if she hadn’t a clue what he might be talking about. Then, to his horror, her eyes started to fill. “You don’t get it, do you?” She looked after Stefanie, and for the first time, he saw something like jealousy cross Elise’s face. “She has a life here. But we only have now and what we make of it.” Elise ran a finger under her eyes and forced a smile, the actress she was. “I’ll see you in there.”
He didn’t watch her go. She was right. Lincoln only had now, as long as the crowds loved him.
But maybe Lewis had forever. In fact, that was the answer.
Lincoln and Elise did belong together. But Lewis, the man inside, needed Stefanie. It had been Lewis who cried out for help and Lewis whom God had answered.
Because Lincoln didn’t need God. But Lewis so desperately did.
And Lewis belonged here in Phillips. With Stefanie.
She refused to be hurt. She refused to be hurt. She refused to be hurt.
Oh, who was she kidding? Stefanie smiled with the best of them as she walked past Lincoln, her gaze forced off the way Elise had him by the arm. He hadn’t talked to her once all night. Hadn’t crouched by her chair to ask about her food—which tasted delicious—and hadn’t escorted her to the movie.
Even if he had brought Haley and Macey to the party, outfitted them in beautiful clothing, fed them delicious food.
Even if he’d told her she looked incredible.
Through it all, a verse pulsed right behind all the glitter: “I have learned how to be content with whatever I have.”
The words, so incongruous with the surreal world around her, made her feel sorry, deeply sorry, for the people who determined their self-esteem by headlines. No wonder Lincoln had panicked, had felt lost.
The thought panged inside her. Wasn’t that exactly what she had done? Based her identity on who she wasn’t? Or, worse, who other people decided she was?
Ranch Hand. Defender of the Oppressed. Horse Whisperer. Leading Lady. As she stood there next to Macey and Haley, it hit her. These were God’s words of love to her. All these names told her what she had—a family, friends, a gift with animals, even the ability to care for someone. She was all these things . . . and more. These names, blended together, gave her life meaning and purpose and told her she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Who she was supposed to be.
She put her hand to her throat, watching Nick lean over and take Piper’s hand, watching Haley pull Gideon down to whisper in his ear.
Lord, I’m sorry I thirsted for something more when You’ve given me so much—all I needed, all I dreamed of, right here. I’m sorry I didn’t hear Your voice. Please forgive me. Thank You for calling me Beloved, whether I’m in jeans . . . or a golden dress.
And with or without Lincoln.
She glanced at him. Tonight he had the world in the palm of his hand, not a hint of his disease showing. He looked like a bona fide hero with those wide shoulders and tailored suit. His whiskers were a perfect two-day growth, his smile whiter than she’d ever seen it.
He took her breath away, and as she watched the press shower him with questions, she understood the truth. She’d probably never get over Lincoln Cash. She’d always, in some small way, or maybe a large way for a long while, pine for him.
His friendship, however, had made her see what she had. Had made her look at her life, at her friends. While she didn’t for a second believe that Lincoln loved her, being courted for a moment by someone as amazing as Lincoln Cash had made her find herself again. He’d made her see that she was beautiful and special, and tonight, he’d showed her she could belong in both worlds.
And prefer hers.
Prefer the slow, honest work of training her horses, of tending the land, as she eked out a life each day with her family. Lincoln had shown her the other side of the fence, and it had been a gift because she realized how much she liked it on her side.
The press lined up along the red carpet. Stefanie waved and smiled as she walked into the theater, following Macey, Haley, Gideon, and Libby. Music from Unshackled, a country song, played over the speakers as she took in the cool air of the theater. Gideon was just scooting into his row of seats, his hand on Libby’s back, when Stefanie’s stomach began to twinge.
“You okay, Stef?” Libby asked as she sat down.
“I don’t know. My stomach is queasy.”
Gideon nodded. “Mine too.” As if to confirm it, he shifted in his seat. “I’m actually starting to feel nauseous.”
“Should we go?” Libby asked, disappointment so clear on her face that Stefanie’s heart went out to her.
“Maybe I’ll go up to the house. Lie down for a while.” Gideon leaned over and spoke to Macey, who glanced at him with concern. Then he stood up and scrambled out of the row.
“I’m going with you,” Stefanie said. She winked at Libby. “No worries. I’ll bet we can talk to the theater owner and get another showing.”
Piper and Nick sat down beside Libby. Piper didn’t look so hot either.
“You okay, Piper?”
She nodded, but her expression didn’t reflect her words.
Gideon led the way from the theater, through the crowd. As he and Stefanie waited in the lobby, he looked ashen. She didn’t blame him. She suddenly felt as if someone had taken a scalpel to her insides.
“What was in those ribs?” Gideon said, his voice tight.
“You guys okay?” Lincoln had approached, as if he’d seen her and followed her out. “Are you not staying for the show?” The light dimmed in the lobby as one of the attendants closed the inner doors to the hall.
“Something we ate, maybe,” Stefanie said. She looked at Gideon. “You go ahead to the house. I’ll be right there.”
He didn’t need further permission.
And then Stefanie was standing there, alone with Lincoln. If she didn’t know him better, hadn’t seen him radiant and confident and knowing that he could act his way out of a ring of armed terrorists, she’d think he was nervous. He swallowed, watching Gideon leave, and every ounce of his confidence seemed to follow the kid right
out the doors.
He turned back to her. His mouth moved a few times before words emerged. “Thank you for coming.”
“I had this cute outfit I was dying to wear somewhere,” she said, allowing a smile to creep into her face.
He actually looked more in pain. “Yeah. But you look pretty great in your jeans and Stetson too.”
She flushed but pressed her hands against her stomach, pretending it might be her illness.
Concern flashed across Lincoln’s face. “What’s the matter?”
“I have an upset stomach. Maybe from supper. Or . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “Nerves. I’ve never had my picture taken so many times.”
“You get used to it.”
Do you, Linc? Do you get used to smiling, hiding the man inside? “I think I’ll sneak up to the house and lie down, if that’s okay.”
He nodded with an expression that looked like relief. Until she turned and he touched her arm. “Wait—”
“Lincoln, we’re starting.” Dex stood at the door of the theater, and Stefanie saw frustration pass over Lincoln’s face.
“Okay.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, probably influenced by all the swooning heroines in the movie posters around him. “I’ll be up to check on you in a while.”
The timing couldn’t be more perfect if she had sent engraved invitations. Her audience was here, waiting, including the press. No one recognized her; no one even expected her.
No one would stop her.
And she would give them the story of a lifetime.
She stood on the porch of Lincoln Cash’s beautiful home, watching him disappear into the ostentatious theater, and waited.
Her star would come to her.
CHAPTER 22
LINCOLN SAT IN THE air-conditioned theater, watching himself on-screen, or rather ignoring himself, and thinking of Stefanie.
Finding Stefanie Page 27