Autumn Promises (12 page)

E
van watched Meg across the table, hardly able to take his eyes off her. She looked absolutely breathtaking in a light green jacket and slacks that reminded him of the Orient.

It was clear to Evan that she’d latched on to young Mark as a dinner partner to spite him. He tried not to let it hurt, but it did. He had to believe that if he hadn’t been there, Meg still would have ridden to the boy’s rescue. Mark was out of place at the dinner party and Meg was the type of person who would notice.

She was good, kind and generous. And he loved her.

Seeing her again was everything he’d hoped it would be and everything he’d feared. His heart thundered even as it ached with worry. What if he failed? How would he go home—go on—without her?

Please, Lord. Show Meg she belongs in Colorado with me. Please, please, guide us all tonight and forgive the trap we’re about to spring on her.

“So, CJ,” Ross said. “How did the appointment go? Did the orthopedist say when you can come back to work?”

Cole cleared his throat. “Actually, Dad, that’s something we needed to talk to you about. CJ isn’t going to be able to come back completely for about a year.”

“Was it a worse break than we all thought?” Meg asked, a worried frown creasing her usually smooth forehead.

Oddly, Cole grinned. “No, but there’s something I didn’t know about when she got hurt. We’re having a baby in October.”

Amelia and Meg jumped up and hugged CJ, then Cole, and all the men shook Cole’s hand. When everyone settled back down, CJ spoke up. “I’m not sorry about the baby, of course, but Ross, I am sorry to leave you so shorthanded. The doctor thinks with the break and the fall it’d be better if I wait to do any jumping or intricate riding until after the baby’s born.”

“Don’t give it another thought. Family always comes first. You both know that,” Ross said.

As expected, Meg stepped gamely up to the plate. “Ross, I can fill in with the training more than I do now. I know I’ve mostly stayed out of the operational
end of Laurel Glen in years past, but I’m really enjoying working with the young horses.” She grinned at CJ. “Under CJ’s tutelage, that is.”

Ross beamed at her. “Meg, that’d be great. Now, if I could just find a foreman.”

“When Cole was at the Circle A, he mentioned that the guy who replaced Jackson didn’t work out,” Evan said, taking his cue from Ross.

“CJ’s accident was his fault. I let him go. He broke my cardinal rule. He knew I won’t take problem animals and he was aware that the owners were having serious trouble with that colt. Then he not only took him on, but he didn’t warn CJ before she worked him. When I think—” Ross cut off the thought and shook his head, glancing at Cole. “No sense going there.” Then he narrowed his eyes as if deep in thought. “So Evan, how long did you say you’ll be staying with Crystal and Jim?”

“Not as long as I’d like. Their place is on the small side, but it’s on a nice-sized piece of land. Jim and I drew up some plans to enlarge the house before the baby arrives.”

Jim jumped in, filling in the details of the addition, and Cris explained a few of her ideas for the nursery they planned.

Evan grinned inwardly as he listened with half an ear while marveling at the way the conversation unfolded all on its own. Not only would he be living across the drive from Meg, but she’d already given
her word to fill in for CJ. So now he’d be working around Meg, as well. It was amazing how clearly you could sometimes see the Lord’s hand on certain situations.

“Unfortunately, my brilliant idea just did me out of a room,” Evan added when Jim wound down. “Their extra bedroom is about to become a wide hall to the addition.” He turned to Jim. “The construction starts in less than a week—right, Jim?”

“Yeah. A bunch of the guys from the church are going to help me do it myself. A lot of us worked on the Tabernacle with Jim Dillon when we converted it from a barn to a church.”

“Then I suppose you’ll be going back to the Circle A,” Meg said. Evan tried to ignore the hurt caused by the delight in her voice, but it was pretty hard.

“And I’m so disappointed.” Cris pouted. Evan fought a grin. Cris had never pouted in her entire life.

“He won’t be leaving if I have anything to say about it,” Ross put in. “If a daughter wants her father nearby when she’s expecting her first baby, he should be there. And I have the perfect solution. The foreman’s cottage Jack lived in is sitting empty. Why don’t you just stay there?”

Evan pretended to contemplate the offer. “I don’t know, Ross. It’s kind of you, but I’d hate to take advantage. Have you ever rented it?”

“Evan, no offense, but I don’t want to complicate my taxes. If you feel you need to contribute some
thing, suppose you lend a hand on some of the foreman’s duties. You can imagine how swamped I am right now with both positions empty. And I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I find a new foreman. If you could handle work assignments and a few other jobs, it would help out tremendously.”

He carefully glanced at Meg. She looked shell-shocked, and Evan had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from grinning and giving them away. After a beat he said, “You know, I could use a crash course in this kind of operation, considering the direction Jackson’s taking the Circle A. You’re on, Ross. I could use a challenge right now.”

And winning not only Meg’s heart but her trust was the most important challenge he’d ever faced.

Sunday morning, three days after Evan’s surprise appearance at dinner, Meg crawled sluggishly out of bed. If she didn’t get an unbroken night’s sleep soon, she’d lose what was left of her mind. It had been bad enough with memories of Evan haunting her dreams.

Now he’d be haunting her waking hours, too!

He’d be living across the drive from her, working around the farm, trying to wear down her resistance by fair means or foul. Oh, he hadn’t fooled her. He hadn’t had business in the area. He was there to convince her to go back with him. And it wouldn’t work.

She didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him. Refused to love him.

Even if she did—and she wasn’t admitting she did—she’d go mad buried in Colorado where his so-called roots held him prisoner in a stagnant life.

Meg splashed water on her face, dressed, then stumbled to the kitchen for some coffee to kick start her day. As she sat at her kitchen table staring into the dark cup of liquid, she admitted that lately some of her trips
had
lacked something. She had indeed taken a few of those trips to escape family stress. Still others she’d planned to avoid an empty feeling she often got when she was no longer needed after the resolution of a family problem. Evan had been right about that, too.

But just as many other trips in the past years had added richness and excitement to her life. And would to Evan’s if he’d just give it a try. How could anyone look out over the Sea of Galilee, stand at Calvary or gaze at the empty garden tomb and remain the same person? How could someone not grow as a person after viewing the artistry of the Louvre and the Sistine Chapel, or feeling the pain and horror of Auschwitz? She would be a poorer person without her travels.

She had more places to see. Many more things she’d promised herself she’d do. Meg didn’t want to give all that up to stay put forever in Colorado.

But what about Evan?

Meg bit her lip and pushed away from the table, blinking back sudden tears. One foot in front of the
other, she told herself. Dress for church. Go for a ride. Shower and change for Sunday dinner at Laurel House. One more day behind her. She stopped halfway through the living room, staring out the picture window at the big chunky flakes drifting to the ground.

Snow flurries.

Again.

On April fourth! Winter refused to end. Would the snow never stay away?

Then, sliding across her mind as silent and stealthy as those soft flakes, the sight of Evan riding to her rescue assailed her.
There are sights and then there are sights,
a voice inside reminded her.
None of your travels ever gave you an experience like that one. That was really living!

Caught up in the memory, she realized the whole day had started to play across her mind. Determinedly, Meg slammed her eyes shut, banishing the memories with a shout. “Okay!” she yelled to the empty cottage. To the taunting voice. “I love him. There, I said it!” She sank onto the sofa, tears flooding her eyes.

But how could she give up all she had for the uncertainty of a new love? At her age? Evan expected her to give up too much—Laurel Glen and all it had meant to her for so long. Risk too much—security, familiarity, the love of everyone in her life. For a way of life she wasn’t sure she could bear.

For him.

She couldn’t do it. She was just too afraid.

Jim Dillon, the pastor of the Tabernacle, strode from the back of the sanctuary to the stage and bounced up the steps as laughter continued to ripple through the congregation after a joke he’d cracked at the end of announcements.

“I know I said we’d finally finish up Psalm 119 today, but last night as I was praying the Lord put a couple of verses on my heart. Considering their content, I decided I should listen. They’re short, sweet and to the point, so don’t bother turning there. Proverbs 3, verse 5—‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.’ And verse 6—‘In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.’

“This, my friends, isn’t as easy as it sounds. Because sometimes the Lord expects us to follow Him down paths that look to our blinkered eyes like minefields. And we start doubting Him. He must get so sick of hearing, ‘But, Lord’ from all of us.

“We aren’t alone in this failing. Many great men have cried out that same thing. Moses, Jonah, Gideon. They all said, ‘But, Lord.’ Sometimes, like Moses, we follow those two words with excuses for why we aren’t up to the challenge the Lord has set before us. Or we ask, as Gideon did, for a sign that we’re seeing the same road He is. The Lord, ever
faithful, sends us the sign we need. Some of us see the sign He sends and finally act, but others still want another sign and then another.

“I’ve been working on listening to His direction for some time now. Those of you who were around in the beginning of the Tabernacle know how long I tried to pretend that I wasn’t a pastor and that we weren’t a church.” He whistled and shook his head, an embarrassed grin tipping his generous mouth up at the corners and crinkling his eyes. “I’m surprised this isn’t called Tabernacle Bible Study to this day.”

Everyone laughed. That Jim Dillon hadn’t counted himself worthy to serve the Lord was a well-known fact at the Tabernacle. That he served his Lord well and with humor was another.

“My point is that if the Lord has a road He wants you on, but you persist instead to travel the road you’ve chosen…” He sighed and shrugged. “Think of Jonah. Bet he wished he’d listened during that three-day ride to Nineveh in the belly of that fish. Ever been in a fish market at the end of a long, hot day? Phew! Not a pretty thought. And can you imagine how he felt when he looked around on that beach and found himself in Nineveh anyway?

“Another thing I’ve noticed about people who don’t want to listen is that they always say, ‘If God would just talk to me the way you are, I’d be sure it came from Him.’ Uh…remember Moses? The burn
ing bush? Didn’t work that time, did it? I think God must have been really frustrated by that one.”

Meg thought about the snow earlier. Had that been the Lord’s way of reminding her of Evan? And what about Evan needing somewhere to stay and ending up at Laurel Glen? Even if that had been some sort of setup, what about Ross being all but buried in work? And CJ needing to give up training because of the baby? None of that could have been arranged beforehand.

Even so. How could she put her trust in Evan?

“Now I want to back up to the first verse I read. We need to trust in the Lord that these paths He wants us to travel, however rocky, impossible and downright scary they look, are the paths He wants us on. The road less traveled is often His choice for us.”

Meg let Jim Dillon’s voice fade away. She closed her eyes and prayed.
I promise to try, Lord. I promise to keep an open mind. But You’d better have a chat with Evan, because I can’t give up my way of life, my family and Laurel Glen entirely even if I do love him. Evan has to give a little, too. And I’m not sure compromise is in his vocabulary.

T
he bright and cheery morning light streamed into Meg’s little kitchen Monday, defying both the weatherman’s forecast of April showers and her mood. She stared into her almost empty coffee cup and wondered absently how long the human body could go without proper rest. If she didn’t get a good night’s sleep soon, she just might find her way into the record books!

The knock at her kitchen door speared her aching head, notching up her annoyance. Opening the door to Evan’s smiling face did nothing to calm her flaring temper.

“What do you want?” she asked ungraciously.

Evan grinned and held up an empty cup. “I wondered if I could borrow a few things.”

He looked guilelessly hopeful, a lock of iron-gray
hair falling over his forehead. She steeled herself, refusing to feel guilty for being less than enthusiastic about finding her tormentor grinning on her doorstep at ten o’clock in the morning.

“What?” she demanded, not giving an inch.

“Sugar?” he tried.

“Fine… What else?”

Evan blinked and frowned. “Else?”

“You said you wanted to borrow
a few
things. Sugar is only one thing. Unless, of course, you only wanted a few granules, and in that case I doubt you’d need the cup.”

He chuckled. “Oh…uh…an egg or two. And maybe a piece of bread or…”

“Two,” she finished for him. “Didn’t you do any food shopping before you moved in?”

Evan shrugged. “Cris was having a bad day and I didn’t want to bother her with directions to stores and the like. Jim had to work.”

“I suppose this is to become breakfast.”

“That’s the plan. French toast. But if it’s too much trouble—”

“Oh, just be quiet and go into the parlor. Your breakfast will be ready in a minute,” she said, completely surprising both of them. Meg whirled away, stomping to the refrigerator. What was it about a big strong man looking helpless that melted a woman’s resolve?

“I don’t want to be a bother,” he said, stepping in the door to dominate the small space.

She stopped herself just before slamming a carton of eggs onto the counter. Propping a hand on her hip, she turned to him. “Yes, you do, Evan. Your whole purpose in coming to Pennsylvania is to bother me. I don’t care what you tell yourself. I don’t care what you told my brother or your daughter about us, nor do I care what your agenda is. Now, go into the parlor before you leave wearing these eggs.”

Evan gave her one of those silent cowboy nods she knew Jack had learned at his knee. She successfully hid a fond smile by turning away since he was sure to have misinterpreted it had he seen it. Any good feelings were all about Jack.

Now, if she could only convince herself of that!

Us.
She’d called them an
us.
Evan grinned and settled into Meg’s overstuffed sofa. She might be mad, but Meg had just lost a major battle. The loud clang of a pan being slammed onto the stove resounded through the cottage, bringing Evan back down to earth quickly.

He winced. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. The bang of a cabinet door followed by a loud muttering made him wince. And made him sure he’d blown it again.

When would he ever learn to stick to his plan? He was supposed to run into her accidentally around the
farm. Strike up a conversation. Show her how compatible they were. Not knock on her door using a thinly disguised excuse just to look at her.

But he’d gotten to the foreman’s cottage by eight o’clock that morning. He’d put all his things away, then looked out the window, knowing she was over here just across the way. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from coming over to see her. Just to be with her.

Crash!

Evan winced again. Well, that wasn’t exactly the sound of warmth. When would he ever learn?

A few crashes and bangs later she stood in the doorway. “It’s ready.”

He vaulted to his feet. “Meg, I truly didn’t mean to bother you this way. I just wanted to see you.”

“Well, finally. A little honesty.”

“I haven’t been dishonest. A little covert maybe, but no falsehoods. I did have business in the area.”

Her only reaction was to arch one of those perfect dark brows of hers in profound disbelief.

“I did!” he protested, but caved in under that blue-fire stare of hers. “My business was with you. Okay! I came to convince you we were made for each other. And that I love you.”

“I liked the subterfuge better.” She sighed. “Just eat, Evan. I think I’ve had about all the honesty I can take for now.” And with that said, she turned and marched out the back door.

Evan looked at the table—at the French toast she’d made—but he’d lost his appetite. It wasn’t that the food didn’t look tasty or wasn’t beautifully prepared. It was that he’d let her push him into making a declaration she might not have been ready to hear. And one she certainly didn’t seem to be in any hurry to return.

Evan’s next contact with Meg didn’t come until late the next day. He found her sitting on the top rung of a pasture fence staring out across the meadow. The rolling hills were even greener now than when he’d arrived. Temperatures fluctuated from day to day, as did the basics of the weather, but neither did so as wildly as he was used to. Today the rain clouds had blown away by midday, but the ring was too muddy to allow more than the most elementary training.

“Slow day,” he said casually, stepping up onto the fence to settle next to her.

“I was able to work with Prometheus. I’m telling you, that big boy is Olympic quality.”

“I watched from the window in the stable door. You’re a wonderful rider.”

She stared over at him, her eyes narrowed. “Thank you. I’m sorry about yesterday. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“You should be. You’re the reason,” she said on a deep sigh.

He didn’t know how to reply to that. “I don’t know if I’m sorry for that one. You’re the reason I’m not sleeping too well myself. I missed you after you left. Colorado, I mean. Not your cottage yesterday, though sharing my breakfast with you would have been nice. I really didn’t mean for you to have to cook for me.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t mind.”

“Could have fooled me.” He chuckled. “And the pots, too. It got pretty noisy there for a while.”

“Okay, maybe I did mind. But it was your intrusion into my life that I really minded.”

Okay. Now he was starting to lose
his
patience! “Why? Because I make you want things you’re afraid to reach out for?”

She stared at him for a long moment. “Did it ever occur to you that I like my life just the way it is?”

“You sound like me not that long ago. I thought my life was perfect, too. Then my son went off on a quest to find you, and my daughter started off on a new life not long after.”

“There’s the difference between us. I’ve never said my life is perfect. I said I like it here. Laurel Glen is my home whether I own one square inch of it or not. Exactly what are you offering me?”

“A chance for a life with me. I love you. I want you in my life. To be a part of my life at the Circle A. And Colorado has a lot to offer. You act as if
Jackson and Beth and the kids won’t be there. As if Denver isn’t a relatively short drive away.”

“What about my life here? My family here?”

“They’re Ross’s family, Meg. Jackson is your family. I’d like to be.”

“Maybe you don’t understand. I helped raise those kids. I love them like they are mine. Do you love Jack less than Crystal?”

“Of course not!” he replied, outraged by the suggestion.

“Then why would I love Hope and Cole any less than Jack?”

He shook his head. For that he simply had no answer, nor did he have one for their dilemma. Maybe there wasn’t one. He didn’t know. But one thing he did know—an Alton could be just as stubborn as a Taggert. He wasn’t about to give up, but he could see his pressure was just making her dig in her heels.

So he jumped down and just looked up at her for a moment, sitting there like the queen of all she surveyed. Behind her, clouds had begun to gather beneath the waning sun, setting the stage for the most magnificent sight he’d ever seen.

Beams of light reached down, tingeing the Lord’s creation with vivid hues and turning the fluffy clouds a fiery orange-pink. Her blue eyes exactly matched the sky that tried to peek around the clouds. But it was she, not the sky and its glory, who took his breath away. He couldn’t lose her, yet he could see
that she fit here in her birthplace. How was he to compete with the pull of a lifetime?

“Well, I guess there’s no reason we can’t still be friends,” he said, hoping, praying she’d tell him he was wrong. “Maybe get together for dinner whenever I come east to visit Cris and Jim.”

She looked ready to cry. That couldn’t be bad, could it? At least, he didn’t think so. Then, as he studied her crumbling composure, something occurred to him. She was a beautiful, desirable woman, yet he’d never taken her out on a date. Nevertheless, he’d already told her he loved her and hinted at marriage. What kind of message had that sent? Not a good one, that was for sure.

He’d gotten everything all wrong from the beginning, and since coming to Pennsylvania they’d gotten even more turned around. What had happened to courtship?

Chagrined, Evan stuffed his hands into his back pockets. A romantic he obviously wasn’t.

Maybe it was time to make up for that. Maybe he needed to treat her more romantically as well as think romantically himself. Maybe it was time to fix the one thing he could between them.

“So, would you like to have dinner tonight? There’s no sense wasting what precious time we have together before I have to leave.”

She took a deep breath and straightened her spine
as if working up her resolve. “I’m glad you’re willing to be so reasonable about it.”

“I can be real reasonable, Meg,” he told her, trying to get her to relax in his presence. “So what about dinner?”

She nodded slowly, hesitantly. “All right. Dinner. What time?”