Small-Town Dreams (32 page)

Jeff thought of the prize—his prize—and it was nothing so transient as glory and a medal. His prize would be Hope. His shining goal was a love to last a lifetime. But now he had something more solid than his own strength to call on for courage and perseverance. He had a Father to turn to in moments of discouragement. He had a Savior to lean on when failure made him feel worthless. He had the Spirit of God to strengthen him in the coming weeks.

And, he realized with a sudden flash, he had real friends. Hope. Curt. Cole. Jim. And Emily Roberts. He’d always had Mrs. R, who loved him with a mother’s love, even if she did draw a salary. For weeks she’d stayed without one. He’d discovered that when he’d checked the payroll figures for Hope. Emily had written checks for others on the account in those first weeks after the accident before Hope came, but she’d written none for herself. He was a little ashamed for not seeing her as more than a housekeeper and for keeping her on the outskirts of his life.

Later that night in the quiet of his new room Jeff gave his heart and his life to the God of the Bible that Jim had given him. As peace and love wrapped around him, he realized that, even if he never walked again, the accident was the best thing that ever happened to him. Because, as Jesus said,
For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?

He couldn’t wait to tell Hope.

A
t the end of that Sunday’s service, Jim gave his usual altar call, and Hope said a quick prayer that Jeff would one day heed the call of the Lord. As the congregation began singing the final song there was a stirring next to her and the sound of Jeff releasing the brake on his wheelchair. She turned in time to be on the receiving end of one of his heart-stopping grins, then he pushed forward toward the altar. Tears of joy fell unbidden as Hope turned the other way into the arms of her aunt Meg, who was sitting with them. The two women hugged then watched Pastor Jim lead the four who’d gone forward in a prayer while the rest of the congregation continued to sing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hope asked Jeff after hugging the daylights out of him a few minutes later.

“I was going to but I decided to make a public profession first. I didn’t tell Jim, either. He was as surprised as you probably were.” Jeff reached up and dried her tears. “He didn’t blubber all over me, though.”

“Oh,” she said, embarrassed, wiping her tears. “Sorry. I’m just so happy for you.”

“I’m pretty happy for me, too.” He took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Let’s celebrate. Brunch at the Hotel Dupont. What do you say?”

Hope nodded, and they were on their way. Jeff drove, having practiced using the hand controls around the property that week. He started a discussion on current events and, taking her cue from him, she stayed away from personal topics. They teased each other about childhood and adolescent escapades, then moved on to solving the problems of Cole and her father and Aunt Meg. Jeff’s solution was to lock her brother and father in a room with Jim Dillon as referee until they kissed and made up. He also wanted to find a nice old guy for Aunt Meg. Hope laughed, saying she liked Pastor Jim too much to make him suffer like that and that Aunt Meg wasn’t old at fifty. Jeff conceded the point and revised his prescription to a guy in his prime but said Jim was tougher than he looked.

Laughing and talking, they moved to the entrance of the exclusive restaurant and waited to be seated. After several minutes a man approached from the back of the restaurant.

“Mr. Carrington, how good it is to see you.”

Jeff looked up and smiled as if greeting an old friend. “Thanks, Malcolm. It’s good to be out and about. How have you been?”

“Fine, Mr. Carrington. Business is as good as ever.” The tall thin maître d’looked concerned and pensive for a moment. “I’d heard about your injuries. I hope everything turns out all right.”

“So far, so good. Do you have a table available that will help me impress the lady?”

Malcolm laughed. “But of course,” he replied in a terrible French accent. “Jez follow moi.”

Hope laughed, as well, but she
was
impressed by the beautiful room. The chandeliers glowed, and the tablecloths gleamed a bright snowy white and set off the brilliant colors in the fragrant, fresh flowers that graced the tables.

“So tell me when you made your decision,” Hope asked as soon Malcolm had seated her and they were alone. “I know you well enough to know it didn’t come suddenly this morning.”

“No. There wasn’t any blinding moment of total discovery. At first I was just curious about what made a man like Jim Dillon become a pastor. It’s clear that he could run his own construction firm and make a mint. I couldn’t understand why he’d give up a chance to do something he clearly loves to be a pastor. So I started asking questions to see what it was that attracted both of you to religion. As we talked, though, I came to realize that it wasn’t religion but faith in God Himself that was the driving force.

“Then, when I was in the doctor’s office, I found myself praying that the news would be good. I had already come to the place where I realized that I did believe in God, but I thought of Him as this great overseer in the sky who sat up there watching us and shaking His head at the messes we made of our lives. If there was any one moment, suddenly finding myself praying was it. Once I faced the fact that He would involve Himself in our lives, it all made sense—His plan for salvation, right down to my accident.”

Hope reached across the space between them and took his hand where it lay on the table. She forced herself to ignore the little frisson touching him always gave her. This was about something more lasting than earthly needs and wants.

“Jeff,” she said seriously, “the accident was my fault. Not God’s. He doesn’t hurt us.”

“I know, but Jim says that sometimes God will let us get hurt and use the evil for good. So I got to thinking that this accident may have been the best thing that ever happened to me. I’d never have taken the time to really look at my life and what was missing if I hadn’t been forced to. God certainly knew if no one else did how hard you’ve tried over the past few years to get me to see where I was headed. But I’m not headed there any longer.”

Hope smiled, albeit bittersweetly. “I’m glad you’re not, but I still feel guilty about causing you to get hurt.”

“I don’t want you to stay at Lavender Hill because you feel guilty for the accident.”

“I stayed because you needed me.” And you don’t now.

“And I did. I can’t believe how wrong I was.” Jeff shook his head and grinned sheepishly. “Why you didn’t smother me in my sleep, I’ll never know. And I’ll never be able to repay you for all you’ve done.”

“This wasn’t about repayment. It was about…” She hesitated, unable to bring herself to declare her love after he’d claimed she was only a sister to him. She still doubted that he’d meant it, but she had her Taggert pride and she was terribly afraid it was all she would have left after this brunch was over. Jeff didn’t need her anymore. He had the Lord to lean on. She really had no more reason to stay.

Unless he gave her one, and she didn’t think he’d come that far. To cover what any second would be an uncomfortable pause, Hope coughed then continued. “It was about friendship.”

Jeff felt a cold sweat coat his body. Did it sound as if she meant to leave Lavender Hill? That was what he’d been trying to achieve all along, wasn’t it? He should be relieved, but instead a cold dread filled him. He didn’t need her for emotional support or to kick his rear into gear the way she had. And it wasn’t as if he’d never see her again or she wouldn’t visit. Hope was too strong to let her father influence her to stay away. So why was he in this sudden panic?

Maybe, he decided, it was the potential of losing the closeness of sharing duties at Lavender Hill. She’d settled into overseeing the breeding operation and the care of the horses, and he’d taken over handling his investments and the bookkeeping during the hours he wasn’t working on his therapy.

No. Wonderful as sharing his life and work with her was, it wasn’t what he would miss. He would miss seeing her arrive still sleepy-eyed for breakfast. He would miss the intimacy of knowing she was near. It was Hope, the pure, shining essence of the woman he loved, that he would miss for the rest of his life. Hope. Just Hope.

The waiter’s arrival at that moment was a welcome distraction. After listening to the day’s specials, they ordered. Jeff noticed Hope assessing him with that bright blue gaze of hers. “What?” he asked.

“Why have you resisted going to a full-service farm? With the renewed interest in equestrian competition and just plain weekend pleasure riding, why did you decide to limit yourself to breeding and sales with all those stalls just sitting vacant?”

“Because I had a dream. I wanted to start a top-quality Olympic training facility. But I wanted to be able to offer scholarships. That’s where the breeding came in. That was supposed to provide for the scholarships and the seed money to get the facility started without filling the stables with other people’s mounts and my taking the time to hire a lot of people I’d just have to supervise.”

Hope frowned, confusion clouding her gaze. “Where’d this idea for a training facility come from?”

Jeff understood her surprise. He hadn’t shared his idea with anyone. Not even Hope. She’d thought he was aimless, but he hadn’t been. Not totally. He’d just been rudderless, running through life without God’s grace to show him the way. Now he wanted to share it with her, the way he wanted to share everything in his life with her.

“The idea’s been kicking around in my head for a while,” he said. “It started a few years back with a girl several years younger than me whom I’d seen in local competitions. She was the most naturally talented rider I’ve ever seen and she was moving up quickly in the rankings. She had incredible presence on horseback. You just knew that animal would do anything she asked of it. She had such potential. Then she vanished from the scene. I later learned that her parents had been killed. She and Grandfather couldn’t keep up with the family’s horse farm and certainly not the expense of keeping her in competition. They eventually lost everything. It’s always bothered me.” He shook his head in disgust. “What an incredible waste of talent.”

“So poor kids would get scholarships?”

“If they had the talent and drive to make it. And if that drive came from themselves and not pushy parents. Also, the scholarships would include competition expenses.”

“So others like the girl you remember wouldn’t be lost. It sounds wonderful.”

Jeff wanted it so badly he could taste it. It was the same way he wanted her in his life. Neither seemed possible right then. Not if he couldn’t get on his feet again.

Unless he had help.

Jeff’s heartbeat picked up and doubled its beats. Unless Hope wanted to help…

He knew he should encourage her to go back to her job at Laurel Glen. He almost held his tongue, but then he looked at her animated expression, and his resolve melted. It was a chance to keep her close. It would be torture, but so would not seeing her every day. And now that it was apparent that her time at Lavender Hill was coming to an end he didn’t think she looked particularly happy about it. Maybe a partnership was all they’d ever have. Maybe it would be enough for both of them.

Jeff took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Hope, would you be interested in a partnership? I can’t very well teach riding from a chair.”

“Work at your training facility?”

“Our facility,” he corrected. “I wouldn’t be able to do it without you.”

A smile bloomed on her face but just as quickly vanished. “But you’d be putting up all the capital.”

Jeff pursed his lips, thinking. “What was your father paying you?”

Hope named a figure, and Jeff felt his eyebrows climb his forehead in surprise. Ross really had needed to beg in order to get his daughter back on the payroll. “That much?” He smiled, loving the irony of it. “Well, I hear you’re worth it. Suppose you draw twenty-five percent less than that and put that twenty-five percent up against what I put into the project to get us started. Before you know it, you’ll be a full partner.”

Hope bit her lip, a frown still making a little crease between her eyebrows. “I’m not trying to discourage you, but what if we fall flat on our faces? You’re taking all the risk.”

“I don’t think so. What will your father’s reaction be to this?”

“Ever see the footage of Old Faithful going off?” Hope gave him a sardonic grin, but he saw worry in the set of her jaw and in the depth of her blue eyes.

“So you
will
be taking a chance. Ross won’t hold your job if you sign on to work on this with me. And I imagine living at home will be more than a little difficult. You’re welcome to stay on in the homestead house, of course.

“I had planned to move in there if I ever got this off the ground, but it’s impossible with the chair. I won’t destroy the historical value of that house with all the alterations I’d need to live there. With God’s grace it would be a waste, anyway, because I’ll be walking before we’re ready for students. If He has a different plan for me, I’ll just take over the bottom floor of the guest wing as an apartment. The kitchen’s almost done, anyway.” He shrugged carelessly but felt anything but careless while considering the possibility that he would never walk again—that Hope would never be more than a friend and a business partner.

She reached out and squeezed his hand again. His heart stuttered then took off like a runaway horse, reminding him how much he wanted this to be so much more than a meal shared by friends and partners.

He looked up from their hands to be snared by her keen sapphire gaze. “You won’t be less of a man than you were if you don’t walk again. You know that, right?” Hope demanded.

Jeff smiled wryly. Leave it to Hope to key in on his fears and not see the desire he felt for her. “But my life would be limited, Hope. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“And pray. Don’t forget about that.” She put her other hand over the one she already held. “And, Jeff, there’s something else you need to pray about.”

“The success of the school.”

She shook her head, and her gaze snagged his. “You have to pray for the grace to live your life the way God wants you to live it, not the way you think you need to live it.

“The same goes for me,” she continued. “I have to do what God wants me to do. I have to live the plan that He wants me to live. To honor Him, I can’t do anything that even smacks of immoral behavior. I appreciate the offer of the homestead house, but I can’t go on living there, Jeff. I came to get you working toward life again, and you’re well on your way. It wouldn’t look right if I stay, with you regaining your health.”