Finding Stefanie (33 page)

He kissed her. And it wasn’t one of those sweeping, movie-music-accompanied kisses either, but a kiss of desperation, filled with emotion and what-ifs, and finally, everything she knew about him, his fears and dreams. His strength. He wrapped his hand around her neck, and it was all she could do to catch her breath.

“I . . . do love you.” His voice was broken, matching hers.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” she said softly.

He gave her a slow trickle of a smile. “Maybe not. Maybe because you were right all along. There is a little piece of me in every scene I play. And I’ve been practicing for years to get it right . . . with you. Only, this isn’t a scene. It’s real. I do love you, Stefanie. You see through Lincoln to the real me.”

“To Lewis.”

“Yeah. To Lewis. Just a guy who hopes the girl he loves, loves him back.”

“I do love you.” She smiled at him. “But I think you need to come up with a better line because that sounds like it’s from a movie.”

“Shh.” He was still holding her, however. “No, that’s all mine.”

This time when he kissed her, she did hear the music, the swooning and the violins and the happy ending to her own, very personal, chick flick.

“When I suggested coming out to Montana, I was kind of thinking that you’d steer clear of all the thrilling, action-adventure, edge-of-your-seat, death-defying drama. Just can’t live without it, huh?”

“Funny, Dex,” Lincoln said, watching as the sheriff’s red lights lit up the top of Cutter’s Rock. It did seem ironic that out here, in the hills where he’d looked for peace, he’d confronted his greatest challenges.

Finding himself. Finding the man who didn’t need the lights and the persona to be a hero. Finding the man who could confront his fears with trust that God had a bigger plan for him.

Finally he was becoming the man he’d always hoped he’d be, and he’d had to be on his knees to see it happen.

“How are you feeling?” He had Stefanie nestled in the curve of his embrace, a blanket wrapped around them as they sat on a large rock. He was still a little weak, the memory of the truck exploding against the pane of night playing over and over in his head. He’d never been so afraid.

“All that adrenaline must have flushed whatever poison Karen gave me right out of my system,” Stefanie said.

“I think that’s shock talking,” Dex said. “I’d get her to a hospital, Linc.”

“It’s next on my list. As soon as Karen is locked up.”

The woman sat in the backseat of the police cruiser, having been intercepted by his security team as she’d tried to flee the scene. She’d had to be subdued, a sight that Lincoln would long remember with pain.

Whatever was in the crazy woman’s head, she was also grieving.

A grief that Gideon apparently felt too, because he’d stood frozen, watching as she was handcuffed, as she screamed accusations and murder in his direction. Then he’d cupped his hands over his head and sobbed.

“What’s going to happen to her?” Stefanie said.

“I would guess she’ll be hospitalized,” Dex said. “Was she really planning on filming your deaths?”

“The camera was running—she probably got me on film.”

“I’ll have to get my hands on that before the press or someone else grabs it. Don’t want you ending up on the Internet.”

Lincoln saw more lights, and another four-wheeler pulled up.

Libby sprang off from behind her father and ran to Gideon, sobbing. He turned into her embrace.

“He’s going to be okay,” Lincoln said softly, almost to himself.

“I think so,” Stefanie said. “It just might take a while.”

“Maybe we’re all going to be okay.” Lincoln touched his lips to her hair.

She smiled at him. “How was the movie?”

“Two thumbs up!” Dex answered. “Another Lincoln Cash blockbuster.”

Lincoln heard voices calling his name and realized the reporters had found them. His groan was cut off by Dex. “I’ll handle this.”

“Dex to the rescue again,” Stefanie said.

Lincoln shook his head. He’d have to put the kibosh on any plans Dex might have to turn this night into a PR moment for the movie. “Dex is going to be upset when I tell him that I’m out of the movie business.”

Stefanie turned in his arms. “What? You can’t quit. The world needs Lincoln Cash movies. I thought we went over this.”

“We did, but . . . I think I’m done with blockbusters for a while. I want a nice, calm, peaceful . . .”

“Drama?” Stefanie gave him a small smile.

“How about . . . life?”

Something that included Stefanie, Gideon, Haley, and Macey. His beautiful horses and his land—the space that was his, as far as his eye could see. He’d come to Montana thinking his life was imploding. He never dreamed that it would get so big.

Or that he would find himself in the middle of it, thankful to be alive and breathing, with the woman he loved in his arms.

“That sounds like an epic to me,” she said as she lifted her face.

He kissed her again and saw cameras flash in his peripheral vision. “And you’re my leading lady.”

She laughed softly, sweetly. “As long as I don’t have to do any stunts.”

EPILOGUE

L
INCOLN
C
ASH HAD
never been more invincible. At least on the big screen.

However, if he didn’t give her the popcorn, he was really going to get hurt. “I’m serious, Superhero. Hand it over,” Stefanie said, reaching for the tub.

But Haley had already climbed over his shoulder, diving for it even as Macey reached between Stefanie and Lincoln for a grab.

Gideon reached over both of them and snatched it out of Lincoln’s grip. “Uh-uh. It’s mine and Libby’s. It’s the first popcorn we’ve had together in months, so beat it.” He sat down and put his arm around a giggling Libby. Although the healthy tans they’d received from the summer sun had faded, Gideon nearly glowed with happiness at having Libby back after her fall term at college in Chicago. Stefanie had no doubt she’d go back in January, and in a year, Gideon might even join her.

But he wasn’t quite ready to leave his family yet. His new family. Besides, he had to stand up for Lincoln in February in a wedding ceremony on the Noble family’s ranch.

“Is this the movie about—?” Macey started.

“Shh—I haven’t seen it yet!” Rafe Noble, on a well-needed rest from his bull-riding tour, sat with his fiancée, Kat—Kitty, as Rafe called her—Breckenridge. Her feet, in their signature red cowboy boots, were propped on the seat in front of her, her dark brown hair fanned out against Rafe’s arm.

Down the row, Maggy St. John sat with her husband, Cole, her hand resting on her pregnant belly. Their son, CJ, was in the back of the room, running the projector.

“Neither has Alyssa,” Lincoln said, reaching over to give her a sideways hug.

Stefanie watched as Alyssa smiled at him, her eyes clear and shining, even if she still thought like a child. Her occasional visits to Spotlight Ranch, along with a private nurse, had proven to be the medicine she needed to break free of her nightmares. And on this trip, her smile had finally begun to connect to her eyes. Not unlike Lincoln’s, really.

“Okay, I got the gumdrops, the red hots, and the malted milk balls,” Nick said as he came through the door. “Who wants what?”

“Malted milk balls,” Lincoln said.

Rafe took the red hots.

Macey grabbed for the gumdrops and opened the box, getting up on her knees in the seat to share with Haley.

Stefanie could hardly believe Macey’s transformation in these last five months. She wore a long-sleeved pink shirt, and she’d cut her hair so that it hung in soft waves around her head. Her counselor spoke highly of her, but Stefanie didn’t need any confirmation. Even though Macey and Haley were still living with a foster family, she could see for herself that these weekend visits to the
ranch were healing the girls. And Lincoln, their hero, had already put the wheels in motion to adopt Macey and Haley as soon as he and Stefanie got married. Perhaps it would even be the start of something she’d dreamed of long ago—a ranch not only for the North kids but for others who needed a place to heal.

The fact that Lincoln had proposed to her around the Nobles’ Thanksgiving table last weekend, with everyone watching, had guaranteed him a yes.

Who was she kidding? Stefanie had never felt more herself—beautiful and cherished and capable and smart—than when looking at Lincoln’s smile. The man God had given her to call her Beloved.

“Where’s Piper?” Stefanie asked as Nick sat down in front of them.

“Feeding Ruthie up at the house. She’ll be down soon.”

Stefanie leaned her head on Lincoln’s shoulder. He was having a good day today, his last attack quelled with some fast-acting medicine. Still, his hand trembled slightly. She reached out and folded it in hers.

That he’d found his strength, the man he was meant to be, through this weakness only confirmed her words that God was answering Lincoln’s prayers in more ways than even she had imagined. Through his life as Lincoln Cash, he’d learned to be strong. Learned to say and do things that made him a hero, to be the person he’d always hoped to be.

It hadn’t been an act at all. It was something he already had inside that God had put there and was just waiting for him to discover. And as a new spokesman for multiple sclerosis research, as well as by providing scholarships to help student filmmakers
with disabilities find a voice, he’d become a different kind of hero to his fans.

Stefanie was so proud of him that she could burst. Instead she squeezed his hand.

He looked at her and smiled. The formerly smug, heartbreaking, invincible movie star who’d turned into exactly the type of hero she was looking for. Fallible yet perfect for her.

Nick handed her the malted milk balls. She poured some into Lincoln’s outstretched hand. “What movie are we watching this weekend? Lincoln saves the world, or Lincoln saves the world?”

He laughed. “Hey, you’re the one who said you had to see every one of my movies before you’d marry me.” He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “You must like watching me save the world.”

“Maybe I just want to confirm that you’re hero enough for me,” she said and winked at him.

“I saw you and Aunt Stefanie on TV last week, Uncle Linc,” Haley said. She had a sweet voice, and when she spoke, everyone seemed to light up. “They said she was your hot summer romance.”

“I tried to get her to turn it off,” Macey said, “but our foster mom loves E! channel. And whenever there’s a Lincoln Cash sighting, she has to turn it up.”

“I like Edith. She takes good care of you,” Lincoln said. “But you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

Stefanie looked at him, pouring as much indignation into her expression as possible.

Lincoln grinned. “Hot, yes. Romance, yes. Summer? Not on your life.” He leaned over and kissed her. “This is forever.”

“Can we watch the movie now?” Alyssa said in a voice that spoke impatience.

“Roll it!” Stefanie yelled to CJ.

As the lights went down, Lincoln settled back in his seat, his arm around Stefanie, tucking her in close.

Stefanie smiled. He might have come to Montana to hide, but instead, God had used him to help
her
come out of hiding, to find herself, her life, her future.

To tell her that He loved her.

Maybe this was what it felt like to be invincible.

No, this was what it felt like to be called Beloved.

A N
OTE FROM THE
A
UTHOR

Writing this book couldn’t have come at a more difficult time. I’m not sure why, but I always seem to back myself into my schedule, turning around just in time to see it crashing down over me like a wave. If I’m well-balanced, I keep my feet and can ride the wave to shore. However, often the wave knocks me over, and I’m left scraping the ocean bottom, wedging sand in my teeth and gasping for air when I surface.

The spring of 2007 hit me like a tidal wave. I was homeschooling three of my children in fourth, sixth, and ninth grades. I had speaking engagements every weekend for three months, and I was trying to write Stefanie Noble’s story. I thought I might lose my mind.

My husband sensed that I was overwhelmed—perhaps because of the way I mumbled in my sleep—and he came to me with a plan. He would cook supper. Every night. For three months. Maybe some of you have husbands who cook. Mine is a fabulous cook, but I’m the primary chef in the family. And when you’re feeding a family of six, four of whom are men, you have to cook a lot. I could have cried at his feet with relief.

But his generosity didn’t stop there. Not only did he cook—he cleaned, carpooled, fixed my car, and occasionally brought supper up to my office. And he prayed for me.

He was God’s gift of strength to me.

So much of the time, heroes in stories are alpha males, able to leap
tall buildings and swim through hurricane waters to save their heroines. However, in today’s world women are strong and often don’t need that kind of hero. Stefanie Noble was one of these. A woman accustomed to working with animals, she knew how to handle herself. But she needed someone who would stand beside her, believe in her, and encourage her. She needed a different kind of hero.

I have a good friend who is one of the strongest women I know. She is beautiful and poised, talented and wise. She’s raising three children, two of my favorite teenagers and a delightful toddler. From the outside, one would never know her challenges—namely, her wonderful toddler has Down syndrome and needs extra eyes on him as he explores his world. And her husband had MS. From her demeanor and smile, people might think her life was easy. I know differently. I also know how much she has loved her husband, and how she appreciated that when he couldn’t be physically strong, he was strong in ways she needed him to be.

Watching my friend in her struggles made me wonder what it would be like to be someone strong—like action hero Lincoln Cash—then have your body betray you. I wondered how he might feel and if he could see God using him to be heroic in a different way.

I love strong heroes, but I love strength of character in a man more. Especially when he surrenders his heart to the One who gives strength. This is the theme I brought to
Finding Stefanie
.

Lincoln also helps Stefanie see her world and herself through new eyes. As a mother, I remember those early days when I’d look up from my daily routines—helping with homework, doing laundry, cooking supper—and wonder, how did I get here? Last time I looked, I was newly married and about to conquer the world as a super missionary. Did I blink?

I’m sure my friend wonders this also. How did she get here, with so much on her shoulders?

I know that she wouldn’t trade her life for anything. Neither would I. But I know what it feels like to be discontent, believing there is something more. Like when I was living in Siberia, without heat, chasing down roaches. Or when we were homeless for four months and lived in our garage. I have come to believe that contentment is a mind-set, a submission to all God is doing in my life. His call is for me to be obedient to the life He’s given me and to embrace it with a tender heart—no matter what the circumstance. When I do, He has a way of making me see it with new eyes. Life doesn’t always turn out the way we expect. But it can still be good. Very good.

My friend taught me that too. And those are the lessons I wrote into this book.

“Fill my cup, Lord. . . . Come and quench this thirsting of my soul. Bread of heaven, feed me till I want no more. Fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole!”

God can fill your cup with strength, contentment, and wholeness. I pray that today you find Him your hero in every way.

Thank you for journeying with me through the Noble Legacy!

God Bless,

Susan May Warren