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Authors: Kate Welsh

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Chapter Eleven

M
eg was spellbound by Evan’s pain. He clearly did care about Jack and Beth. She had never stopped to consider any meaning for his absence other than apathy. But she’d been wrong.

“Jack may say he understands your not going to the hospital. And Beth’s spent her life being ignored by her own parents. I’m sure she hasn’t even thought of your absence as being odd. But it is odd. Very odd. I’m sorry this all brings back bad memories, but Evan, thinking history’s somehow repeating itself is a foolish concept.”

“Tell me that after Beth’s gone,” he snapped.

“Evan Alton, now is not the time to wallow in the pain of the past. The past isn’t relevant right now.”

Evan sank back onto the rock she’d found him sitting on and shook his head. She said a quick prayer
that the right words would come to her. Otherwise Evan’s relationship with Jackson might not survive.

“Your son—our son—is falling apart in spite of his faith. In spite of the fact that he’s one of the strongest men I’ve ever met. In spite of visits from his pastor and Crystal and Cole. All my attempts to bolster his confidence are failing, even though he’s trying to hide it. He needs you. Not messages. Not phone calls.
You!
Now what are you going to do about it?”

Evan said nothing. How was she supposed to reach him? His unreasonable fear—and yes, he was afraid—was as impenetrable as a foot-thick wall.

Help me do this, Lord. Just help me do the right thing where he’s concerned. Help me touch him but not be touched by him.

She blinked. Prayer. What was the matter with her? Prayer was her answer! She walked back to Evan where he sat with one foot on the rock, his arm resting on his bent knee, his expression distant as he stared out over the barren plain.

Meg lowered herself onto the big flat-topped rock close to him. Close enough that she could reach for his hand. Somehow Meg managed to ignore the quickened pulse his nearness and touch caused.

Evan didn’t react except to stare at their joined hands. Meg would forever be thankful she didn’t have to look into those enigmatic stormy-sky eyes of his.

“Lord, God,” she prayed aloud. “I ask You to reach down Your healing hand and touch Evan’s heart. Give him the courage to go to the hospital. To minister to our son. To offer the comfort Jack so desperately needs from him right now. Show Evan how to be the father both Jack and Beth need him to be just now. Take away this irrational fear the enemy has placed in his heart to stifle his relationship with our son. Go with him into the lion’s den and shelter him as You did Daniel. Be with him when the fiery furnace of his fears seems to wrap around him, just as You did with Daniel’s three friends. Show him that You will bring us all safely through this trial. In the name of Your blessed Son we pray.”

She sat utterly calm now, Evan’s hand in hers. But then he looked up and captured her gaze with his. Her heart, which had settled down, took off on an unruly canter.

“Jack’s lucky to have you in his corner, Meg.”

“And I’m lucky he found me. But it’s you our son needs.”

Evan started, surprise in his gaze. “You said that before.
Our son.
I wasn’t sure you saw me as his father. Not his real father. Since he found you I’ve felt sort of like a second stringer.”

“Well, you aren’t. If I’ve contributed to that feeling, I’m sorry. Of course you’re his father. Wade isn’t here. He was never here. You were. For both of us. When I needed someone I could trust, you took
him and kept him safe. Now Jack needs you more than ever.”

Miraculously, he nodded. She could read his eyes now. He was going, but had no clue where the strength would come from. “You coming, too?” he asked, his voice husky.

“If you’d like,” she promised.

Evan sighed. “Yeah. If I start to fall apart—”

“You won’t,” she cut in, squeezing his hand. “Just lean on the Lord. He’s a lot stronger than I am. He can do anything but only if you let Him. The wife of our pastor back home once told Beth the Lord doesn’t give us a spirit of fear. That fear comes from Satan, who uses it to take our eyes off God’s grace.”

Evan nodded. “I think she’s right. I think every mistake I made with the kids was because I was afraid to let them get too close, for my sake and theirs. I convinced myself it was better not to love anyone too deeply, because they could leave me unexpectedly. I forgot how much being lonely hurts.” He graced her with a sad smile and squeezed her hand. “Let’s go see Jackson and Beth.”

 

They spent the drive into Greeley in silence, but for Evan it appeared to be an easy sort of quiet. His driving gave him time to think.

And Meg? Well, she needed the time for prayer. They’d connected on a level she didn’t know how to handle. Now she was the one unsettled. Afraid.

Not of a simple trip to see Beth and Jack. She was alarmed that Evan had begun to call to her in more ways than she dared to count. And that just couldn’t be good.

They found Jack in Beth’s room. He sat in a chair next to her, holding her hand and talking in a hushed tone. But her eyes were closed—still. Her usually silky blond hair had lost its natural luster and body and lay limply on her pillow. Her creamy complexion was pale and alarmingly sallow. Jack looked up, crushed tears glittering in his eyes.

“Jackson,” Evan said.

Jack stood, surprise and gratitude in his expression. “Dad?”

“Is Beth asleep?” Evan asked, approaching the bed, his pace hesitant but determined.

Jackson nodded. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”

“What, that I came to see her and she’s sleeping? Don’t be silly, kiddo. Sleep heals. We’ll hang around all day if we have to. Won’t we, Meg?”

“Certainly,” she promised.

“No. Not that she’s asleep. That I didn’t understand what this was like for you. When they brought the twins, I realized that I hadn’t thought of them in days, except to point out the posters of them for Beth. It’s like the whole world has shrunk to this one room.”

Evan put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Pretty soon Beth’s going to rally and the world will still be there.
For now you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Jack whispered, almost as if afraid to say the words.

Evan hugged Jack to him and clapped him on the back. “Then you’ll go on. And I’ll be here to kick you in the pants to make sure you don’t do to Maggie and Wade what I stupidly did to you and Cris.” He stepped back and grasped Jack by his shoulders, looking him square in the eye. “But she
will
rally. Now tell your mother and me what’s happening.”

They sat in the chairs, Jack on the edge of the bed. Beth slept on.

“I guess in a way there’s good news,” Jack began. “Some big shot from the CDC flew in last night. He ordered a new battery of tests this morning. He seems to feel the answer is at the hospital where the twins were born. He agrees that she picked up something when they did the Caesarean. He’s there now. He promised us he’d figure out how to treat her if it takes him a week of all-nighters. Those tests really wiped her out, though.”

He raked his hand through his hair, reminding her of Evan. Actually, now that she thought about it, many of Jack’s gestures were Evan’s. She wondered if either of them had ever noticed and wished she had a window to the past—a small Jack following his father, imitating the big man he wanted to be when he grew up.

“What kind of tests, son?” Evan asked, calling her out of wistful thoughts. She’d missed a lot, but she was here now when he needed her most.

Jack shook his head helplessly. “CAT scans, blood tests. If they keep this up, she’ll need a transfusion.”

Meg chuckled and patted his back. “It just seems that way, dear. It’ll be fine now. Who called in this new man?”

“Actually, Doc Reynolds. He stopped in yesterday, and when he saw that Beth wasn’t doing any better he called his friend from med school. He’s a director with the CDC.”

“Now we’ll get some action,” Evan said.

Jack got to his feet and headed to the window, staring out. Meg knew it wasn’t the awful view that drew him. Roofs and brick walls must have been a trial to her son with his love for wide-open spaces. After a few minutes Evan looked at her and shrugged helplessly. He mouthed, “What now?”

She pressed her hands together signaling prayer. Evan rolled his eyes and smacked his forehead.

“Jackson, come over here,” Evan said as he rose. “Let’s pray together.”

Jack sighed. “Honestly, Dad, I’m about all prayed out.”

“Good thing I’m not. Come on, son. You have to hold on to your faith. At times like this, it’s all we’ve got.”

Jack walked to the bed and Meg stood to take his
hand. With his other he grasped Evan’s and dropped his chin to his chest. It looked more like acquiescence to Evan’s wishes than respect for the Lord. She looked around Jack to see if Evan had noticed. He had. Frowning, he studied their son. She could almost see his mind searching for a solution to Jack’s uncharacteristic crisis of faith.

“Lord, I’m pretty rusty at praying out loud, but here goes. First, You know our hearts and how much we all love this young woman who came into Jackson’s life and fulfilled his fondest wishes. You’ve doubly blessed us with Wade and Maggie and we humbly thank You. But those little ones need their mama. Jackson needs his wife. The sun would still shine without her, but it wouldn’t shine as brightly.

“I stand here looking at my son in pain and my new daughter fighting for her life. I have money to burn and can’t do a thing to help her. I think I know how Jairus in the gospel of Matthew felt when he approached Your Son to beg healing for his daughter. As it turned out she had already passed from this life, but You honored his faith in You by giving his daughter back to him. We beg You to honor our faith and prayers in the same way. Please heal Beth. Please guide the mind of this new doctor. We believe nothing is beyond Your mighty touch.

“We believe You can heal our Beth. But we don’t know Your will and that makes us all afraid of what the future holds. It isn’t a lack of faith but our small,
shortsighted minds at work here. Please give us peace. And again, please give our Beth back to us.”

And Beth’s hushed voice whispered, “Amen” with them.

Chapter Twelve

T
wo days after visiting Beth in the hospital, Evan woke to the ringing of the phone next to his bed. Instantly alert, he rolled over, hitched up on his elbow and snatched it up. “Yeah?”

Jackson chuckled at the other end of the phone. “I actually woke you?”

Evan glanced at the clock on his bedside stand. He stared at it in disbelief. This is what came of thinking too long into the night, he mused. He hadn’t slept until eleven o’clock in years. In fact, he didn’t know if he’d ever slept this late. Surprise gave way to comprehension. Jackson had laughed. Evan smiled, rolled to his back and sank onto his pillow. “I’m assuming you have a good reason for interrupting my beauty sleep,” he said.

“Beauty sleep? Right. Beth’s much better, Dad.
She has a lot of strength to regain, but they say she’s turned the corner.”

Evan realized once again that he’d lost a lot of his anxiety over Beth’s illness two days before. Meg’s prayer as they sat by Half-Pint Spring, and his own later in Beth’s hospital room, had bolstered his faith and his hope. He’d begun to believe Beth would be fine, exactly as he’d been pretending with Jackson all along. “I’m so glad, son. I guess your mother’s just as thrilled.”

“Actually, I called you right after I called Adam at the hotel. Would you pass the word? I’m going over to the room to catch a few hours’ sleep. Last night it was a waste for me to try to sleep, so I sent Adam and Xandra back to the hotel and sat up with Beth instead. They’re on the way here to spell me.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear you’re going to get some shut-eye. Exactly how is Beth doing? I’d like to be able to tell everyone here.”

“She’s sleeping peacefully, with only a low-grade fever. She had a little to eat and she talked to me for about ten minutes. Adam and Xandra really don’t need to come over, but they insisted.”

“You know you’ll sleep better knowing someone’s with her. Call later, okay?”

“Will do, Dad. Don’t forget the folks at Laurel Glen.”

“I’ll have Meg call them.”

They said goodbye and Evan jumped up. After
dressing quickly, he hotfooted it up to the main house. “Meg!” he shouted. “Meg, where are you?”

She walked to the railing, peering over as he ran up the stairs. “Goodness, Evan. Where’s the fire?”

“No fire,” he called as gained the top of the steps and swung around to face her. His heart felt light as air. “It’s a celebration,” he said, and gripped her by her slender shoulders. “Jackson called. The Lord came through for us. Beth passed the crisis! She’s going to be all right.” Without much thought at all, he lowered his head, pulled her closer and dropped a kiss on her lips.

And his heart felt as if it might explode.

He supposed he could blame it on celebration. Or triumph, even. But after taking a rapid step back, he realized that while it was all those things, it was more. He stared into her eyes, speechless. She seemed equally dumbfounded, her laser-blue eyes wide with shock. But he wasn’t about to press her. Not until he understood the implications himself.

“You…uh…you call Laurel Glen, okay? I—I overslept. Are Cris and Jim riding, the way they’d planned?”

Meg nodded—her cheeks pink, her voice still obviously not functioning.

“I’ll just go find them,” he said, and backed away. Finally able to drag his eyes from hers, he turned and fled.

Heart racing, he headed for the barn. He didn’t
really want to find Cris and Jim at that point. Shaken by the rush of feeling and physical response he’d thought had died with his wife, he couldn’t deal with anyone at the moment.

He stopped and leaned his back against an upright post of the corral for support. His legs were actually shaking. The muscles felt as if they’d turned into jelly. He would mount Apple Boy and go for another hard ride, but he wasn’t sure his quaking muscles would cooperate.

He narrowed his eyes, thinking back. He didn’t remember even Martha inspiring the sort of explosive sensations that kissing Meg had caused. It had been years, but he knew his yearning for Martha hadn’t been this fierce. It had been sweet and gentle. Like Martha herself.

“What’s happening to me?” he asked the sky. “I’m supposed to be past being ruled by hormones.”

For perhaps two minutes Evan actually relaxed. Hormones were a completely physical response. Meg had been affecting him physically since practically the day she’d arrived. This was just more of the same thing, then. And now that he knew what was happening, he’d just fight it more conscientiously. Mind over body. He wouldn’t be ruled by animal instincts.

Then he remembered why he hadn’t been able to sleep the night before. His thoughts had centered on Meg. And those thoughts had had nothing to do with physical responses. He’d remembered the day he’d
opened up to her, and he’d recalled with perfect clarity the way she’d immediately clued in to the source of his most profound hurt. He’d remembered her strong faith and the way it touched and inspired those around her—himself included. Because of her influence, his faith had grown by leaps and bounds in the past week. How did a man fight that sort of emotional and spiritual appeal? Especially when there was such a strong physical one, too.

“You look like a man with something on his mind,” Jim said from the middle of the corral. Evan turned, surprised he hadn’t heard Jim ride in. As his son-in-law dismounted, he handed Duke’s reins to Tomas—someone else Evan hadn’t noticed.

Hoping to avoid Jim’s uncanny ability to read people, Evan called to Tomas, “How’s Anna today?”

“She is much better. If you need her, she can start working a little again soon.”

Evan shook his head. “Cris and Jim should be here till Sunday, and Beth’s brother and wife may be on board up at the house for the rest of the week, too. You tell Anna I said to take it easy and get stronger. We don’t want her pushing herself. We’ll need her soon enough. Beth’s going to be coming home before we know it.”

A man of few words, Tomas nodded and led Duke toward the barn.

“Okay, so we aren’t talking about you today,” Jim
quipped. “When did Adam and Xandra decide to come here?”

“It’s really just an assumption on my part. I don’t think anyone’s going to need to stay with Beth when Jackson can’t be there. He called. Beth’s turned the corner according to her doctors. Where’s Cris? I was actually looking for both of you so I could tell you the good news.”

“We ran into your foreman. She went with him and I headed back before I overdid it and couldn’t walk tomorrow.”

“You still working on that novel in your spare time?”

Jim nodded. “Crystal read my second draft. She says it’s good. She suggested changes to the ranch lingo, which I’ll make, and then we’ll see if it goes anywhere.”

“Well, good luck. So where were Cris and Seth headed? I may ride out to join them.”

“They said something about checking a fence line to the northwest. So, you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about the northwestern fence line?” Evan said, pretending innocence.

“Aw, come on, Evan,” Jim ordered as he leaned on the fence from the other side. “Knock it off. I know you’re having trouble with your feelings for Meg Taggert.”

A horrible thought occurred to him. “It’s that obvious?”

Jim shook his head. “No. But I’ve been exactly where you are. Maybe if we talk about it you can avoid some of the problems I ran into.”

“You wound up married to Cris. I’m not going there again.”

Jim chuckled. “If you only knew how much you sound like I did. So what’s wrong with Meg? All the right vibes are in evidence whenever you two are in a room together.”

Vibes? There were vibes? He thought for a moment. Yeah. There were. Both the physical and emotional kind. And that was his problem. She was a triple threat because her appeal was on three levels. Physical, emotional and spiritual. He was afraid that was a pretty tough combination to fight. “I don’t want to feel what she makes me feel,” he admitted. “But I’ll figure out how to resist it. I just need time.”

“Maybe you don’t have the time. Fight too long and you may be too late for a good thing. What you need is to quit fighting your feelings and just go with them. I ought to know.”

Jim sent Evan a look that spoke volumes, then turned and sauntered away. His son-in-law had once lost a fiancée to a violent death and had denied his feelings for Cris for so long he nearly lost his chance for happiness with her. But Evan didn’t love Meg. He was attracted to her. Respected her. He’d even go as far as saying he enjoyed spending time with her.

He winced, remembering a talk he’d had with Jim
when he’d at last surrendered to his feelings. Evan did indeed sound just the way Jim had then. Did that mean it was already too late? Was he already in love with Meg Taggert? And if he was, did he want to do anything about it?

He didn’t know. Which, in its way, was an answer. This would all require careful consideration. Meg was in his life to stay by virtue of her relationship to his son so there could be no false moves. Any mistake would cause embarrassment to himself and Meg that would last for years to come. Until he knew what he wanted to do and how he wanted to move forward, he had to guard his growing feelings.

Evan pursed his lips. It seemed as if he had some decisions to make. But that might not be the first task. Maybe he needed to know how Meg felt about him. And what she’d felt when their lips met.

Of course, he couldn’t just ask her. He’d have to gauge her feelings by her reaction to him when he saw her again, but whatever her answers were, caution would have to be his watchword.

 

Meg sat in her room. Dazed. It was as if her brain refused to function. Evan had kissed her.

And she was in big trouble.

Because it hadn’t been a romantic kiss. At least, not on his part. But to her…well…fireworks had seemed to burst inside her. Things like that didn’t happen every day. Not to her, anyway!

She’d felt almost like the heroine in one of the romantic comedies she’d used to act in. And what was worse, she was very afraid her eager response to his lips had given her away.

The poor man had been overcome with delight over Beth’s recovery. He’d kissed a friend in his exuberance. And she’d felt something she hadn’t felt in years—if she had ever felt like that. It was as if she’d had no control over her feelings!

She wrung her hands. He’d been repulsed by her forwardness. That must have been it. He’d looked so shocked. Then he’d practically recoiled. Practically shoved her away.

What was she to do now? She couldn’t leave. She’d promised Jack and Beth she’d stay for a while. Perhaps if she acted as if nothing had happened, he’d think he’d imagined her unruly response. He’d blame himself.

That was it! She’d pretend nothing had happened except a standard friendly kiss. She’d been an actress. Now was the time to pull out the talent God had given her and use it. She’d fix this by acting unaffected. Above such wayward thoughts. Now, if she could only make herself believe it, all would be well.

 

After calling Laurel Glen, she checked on the babies, first carefully sneaking a peek to make sure Evan wasn’t with them. The coast was clear and the twins were sleeping peacefully. She found Jim in the
living room, one of the baby monitors sitting next to his cup of coffee. He told her Crystal would be back from a ride soon and that he was on duty.

A ride sounded like a wonderful idea. Meg needed to clear her head. The Circle A was huge—easily five times as big as Laurel Glen—so she should be able to find a way to spend a few hours alone.

She noticed it had grown a bit colder, so she went back for a warmer jacket, the smart little ski hat she’d picked up in the hospital’s gift shop and a pair of riding gloves.

There was no one around when she reached the barn, so she saddled Glory herself and led her out of the building. She’d just mounted the big gray horse when she heard Tomas call to her. “Where are you going? Señor Evan say it will snow,” he told her in his slightly halting English.

“Oh?” She looked at the bright blue sky. It didn’t look like snow to her, but she’d always loved riding with snowflakes falling gently about her dusting the ground and clinging to the trees. “That sounds perfect! Freshly fallen snow is always so pretty. At any rate, I probably won’t be gone all that long.”

“But it is so cold!” he protested.

Was it? She hadn’t noticed. Maybe she was just made of sterner stuff. Winter in Pennsylvania had the kind of dampness that simply chilled to the bone. This was nothing. She smiled. “Don’t be silly. It feels invigorating, Tomas. Don’t worry about me. I
was practically born in the saddle,” she called over her shoulder.

“No. No. You do not…” He was still protesting as she rode away. Checking the position of the sun, she rode due east, deciding to explore a part of the ranch she hadn’t seen. An hour later the sunshine dimmed abruptly, drawing her attention upward and behind her.

“Oh, my goodness. That sky certainly does look like snow now,” she told Glory. “I guess we should head back.”

Meg wheeled the Irish Draught around and headed back the way she’d come. The wind kicked up, blowing fiercely and dropping the temperature within minutes. She pulled up her collar and buttoned her coat to the throat. Under her Glory grew nervous. Then Meg grew anxious, too, as the clouds thickened and obliterated the sun she’d been using to navigate.

Almost as if nature itself were conspiring against her, snow began to fall. But it wasn’t the kind of snow she was used to. No gentle flakes, these. She’d never seen anything like it off the stage. The snow came down heavily as if being dumped in front of wind fans by the boxful. But this was no theater prop—these flakes were cold and wet. Meg pulled Glory to a stop and peered around. Nothing looked familiar. She didn’t know if she’d lost her way or if the scenery just looked different with a white coating and no sunshine.

Then she remembered Glory. Horses usually return to their barn on instinct. “Do you know where we are, girl? Suppose you get this stubborn woman out of a jam.” Slackening up on the reins, Meg gave Glory a little encouragement with her heels and the horse leaped forward, then veered off to the right, an entirely different angle from the one she’d had them heading in.

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