Love Lifted Me (3 page)

Parking alongside the house, he unloaded the gear into the shed, a fresh gust of manure hitting his nose. He was going to miss that smell.

He locked the shed and started for the house, his heart fixed on a shower before dinner, when he spotted Axel riding the corral rails. The lanky ponytailed cowboy-counselor waved him over.

That's how Axel did most of his counseling—sitting on the rail. Listening was his specialty, next to pulling scripture to combat a man's sorrows.

Max hopped up next to him, hooking his heels on the middle rung, gazing toward the meadow where the cattle roamed.

“Last night,” Axel said.

“Last night.” Max looked east when a truck rumbled up the driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. A blue Suburban floating on a cloud of white dust. “But I'm ready.”

“Sure you are. Never seen a fellow work so hard. You got a lot of Texas sun on your Tennessee shoulders, Max. I'm proud. You cowboyed up. God's got good things for you.” Axel jutted out his chin, watching the Suburban, waving when the driver and another man hopped out. “Go on inside,” Axel called to them. “I'll be along. See what Cook's set out.”

Speaking of Cook, and dinner, Max's stomach rolled with a bass rumble.

“You'll do all right if you lean into Him.”

“He can have it all.”

“How you think Jade's doing in all of this?”

Max couldn't calculate the hours he and Axel had sat on the rail talking about Jade, marriage, and the responsibilities of love.

“She's been doing a lot of her own counseling and praying. She sounds good. Dubious. Don't blame her but I think—” What? What did he think? That he'd go home tomorrow and be welcomed in her heart and in her bed?

No, the Outpost was prep. The real work would begin when he went home and started winning back his wife after knifing her with his finely honed selfishness.

“Carry on the way you have been. Ain't nothing special about the ranch other than outside distractions. Prayer works here. Prayer works at home. Deal with your marriage and your mistakes like you done all spring. Humble, facedown, bathed in prayer.”

Axel was devoted to prayer, and Max was confident that's why the ground shook beneath the man's feet. Prayer, he said, fueled the Big
L
s. The Lord, love, and life.

“I'm sure you're looking forward to lawyering again.”

Max peeked at his mentor. He was fishing. “You want to ask me a question?”

Axel made a face, meshing his lips toward his lean nose. “Just checking in with you. I'm your counselor, you know. How are those back pains?”

“Not a one since that one night. Two months now. Pain-free, med-free.” When the wind blew east, Max stared toward the dimming horizon. He'd be winging toward that thin black line tomorrow. “I'm going to miss this place, the boys, and our talks, but I have a gorgeous, kind, patient wife at home and a son to raise. God help us glue all the broken pieces together.”

“He didn't bring you this far without a plan, Max. He'll not let you down. Just keep that ‘Yes' in your heart.”

“Question is, yes to what?” Max said. “Taking over the family's seventy-five-year-old firm? Benson Law is a great tradition. One of the best firms in the country. But, I don't know, doesn't feel like me anymore. It doesn't feel as important.”

“The ranch has a way of fixing a man's priorities.” Axel hopped off the rail, his boots rustling up a bit of dust. “Come on.” He started for the house. “I got a couple of fellas from town waiting to talk to you.”

“Talk to me?” Max hopped down, suspicious now of the blue Suburban. Who'd want to talk to him? He didn't know anyone from town. He only went to Colby once a week to check e-mail and call Jade. “Do you want to tell me what this is all about, Ax?”

“Not particularly.” Axel shoved through the short, white gate. Dirt and pebbles crunched under his feet. He took the porch steps with a long, angular leap. “I'll let the boys speak for themselves.”

Three

“Lillabeth.” Jade exited the Blue Umbrella's office, scanning her iPad calendar. She couldn't find the date the reporter and photographer were scheduled to come. “Do you remember when
Southern Life
is supposed to be here? I'm telling you, these electronic things do not work for me. I need sticky notes. Why fix what's not broke?”

“I'll buy you a case of them.”

Definitely not Lillabeth's voice. Jade looked up, bobbling her iPad. “Max.” He stood in the golden circle of sun falling through the shop's main window.

“Hey, Jade.”

“Y-you're here.” His presence stole her breath. Forever handsome, Max stood before her lean and tan, poured into a pair of jeans. Leather boots replaced his leather loafers. The breadth of his chest filled the white oxford and tapered to his trim waist.

Locks of his silky dark hair curved down his neck, into his collar, and a light brown beard barely dusted his cheeks.

“You look good, Jade.” He dropped his duffel to the floor, the sound covering the timidity in his voice.

“So do you.” Jade cradled her iPad against her chest. “Did you just get here?

I didn't realize—”

“I came straight from the airport.” Max motioned the bag by his foot. “I wanted to see you. If you're busy, we can catch up later.” He bent for his duffel.

“No, no, I'm not busy. Just trying to remember when
Southern Life
will be here.”

“The sixteenth? Didn't you mention it on our last call?”

“Right, I did. The sixteenth.” She scanned her iPad calendar. Sure enough.

“Right in front of me.”

“Max!” Lillabeth breezed in from the storeroom. “You're back.” She embraced him freely, openly. The way Jade wanted to but couldn't because her wounded heart refused to yield. “Great hair. You look like a real cowboy.”

Great hair, great face, gorgeous cowboy. But liar and betrayer.
Don't forget those, Lillabeth
. Jade had trusted before. She'd believed Daddy when he said he'd be there for her.

“Jade, you called?” Lillabeth said.

“I—what? Oh yeah, right.” Her heart beat so fast. “I couldn't find the date of the
Southern Life
shoot.” Why was the shop so
hot
? Perspiration sprinkled the back of Jade's neck.

“July sixteenth?”

“Yep.” Jade held up her iPad. “Max remembered.”

Lillabeth slapped him a high five. “And he wasn't even here when you set it up. Keep him around, Jade. Aaron never remembers dates or details.”

“Well, he
is
fighting a war.” Lillabeth's husband flew F-18s and was deployed to the Middle East.

The bells on the shop door clanged as a customer entered. Lillabeth moved to assist. “Glad you're back, Max. We missed you around here,” she said softly.

“She knows more about this place than I do,” Jade said, eyes on Lillabeth who spoke with two twentysomethings, instantly identifying, directing them to a display of '70s tops.

Max angled toward Jade. “I really missed you.” His eyes searched hers.

“Max—” Jade hugged the iPad to her chest, trembling. She felt exposed and raw under his clarion gaze. He'd changed. Not just his hair or his form, but— could it be true?—his heart.

He stepped back. “I think we were less awkward on our first date.”

They met right here in this shop. The beginning of beginnings. In a way, they were there again. Starting over—with an honest marriage or an honest divorce.

“We didn't know then what we know now,” she said.

“No, but this time the truth is on the table. No secrets. Right?” He dipped his head to see her face. “Is there anything you need to tell me? Any hometown, Prairie City, Iowa, lovers capture your heart?”

“No,” Jade said rapid and low. The customers passed behind her, barely skirting the edge of this private conversation.

“I guess we can talk later.”

Yes, later. About so many things. About truth and lies. Secrets. Forget her ex-husband in Iowa. Jade had wrestled two days over Taylor Branch and her news. If she told him, he'd be crushed. Would it send him tumbling back to his old ways of phantom back pains and pain pill addiction?

Secrets had all but destroyed their marriage. How could she keep this one to herself? She was sitting on a potential time bomb.

Jade had no proof to corroborate Taylor's claim. She could be lying for some hideous, bizarre reason.

Either way, she wasn't willing to blurt, “Asa's not your son,” without some evidence. Without giving Max a chance to move home and consider a shave.

“Jade, are you okay?” Max curved his hand over her shoulder. “You sighed really heavy.”

“Did I?” She moved behind the sales counter, meeting his eyes for a fleeting second. “Just, you know, taking it all in.” She stacked the disheveled pile of sales flyers, then straightened the business cards. “So . . . here you are.”

“Yeah, here I am.” Max brushed his hair back so it layered like ripples on the surface of still waters. “How's Asa?”

“Brilliant.” Finally—safe, common ground. “Yes, he's brilliant.”

Max grinned. “You've been watching Hugh Grant movies again.”

Jade made a wry face. “
About a Boy
was on last night.”

“One of your favorites.”

He remembered
. “I love all the imagery and symbolism. I love how Hugh Grant's character changes.” Jade peered at Max until he started playing her heart with his hazel eyes. “But it's just a movie.”

The strange route of their conversation, the bumpy reintroduction, actually calmed her. But they couldn't stand in the middle of the Blue Umbrella forever— or until she could trust him. Love or not, sexy cowboy husband or not, the bridge of trust was blown to smithereens.

She couldn't just let him waltz back into her heart and into her bed without some proof of change. Looking fabulous in those stupid Levi's and speaking to her in tender tones merely skimmed the surface.

“Listen,” he said. “I came home under the radar so we could have some time together. No one knows I'm home but you and Lillabeth. And those two tourists over there.”

“Not even your mom?” Jade whispered.

“Especially not Mom, queen of parties and parades. I wanted time with you and Asa, if that's all right with you. Uncomplicated and quiet. Dad and Mom and the rest of Whisper Hollow will see me soon enough. You and I need to talk.”

If he talked, she'd have to talk. Recount how he hurt her and how she wanted to smash her fist into his face when she found out about Rice and the evil night in Vegas. But deep down she dreaded bringing it all up again, rehashing her hurt, his explanation,
blah, blah, blah
. She wasn't in the mood to hear what he'd learned at the Outpost. She didn't want to hear that she'd always be inadequate for him.

Oh, she just wanted to move on before the cement at her feet hardened and she'd never be free. Could she simply hang a For Sale sign on this past year?

“Asa's at school.” Jade motioned toward the back of the shop, moving away from the intimate, uncomfortable tones of the conversation. “I have to pick him up in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I guess we don't have to deal with
us
right now. I didn't mean to come in and disrupt your day.”

Or my heart? My mind? My strength?
The longer he stood there, the more he consumed her.

“We knew this day was coming,” she said, moving away from the register for Lillabeth to ring up the customers' sale. The twentysomethings chose tunics and bell-bottoms. One of the girls also had a pair of Candie's platforms Jade loved. “You may be confident and together, Max, but—”

“Confident? Together? I'm a mess.” Max drew Jade back to her office, eased the door closed, then took her hand and pressed it over his heart. “It's like wild mustangs in there. I can barely breathe. When I walked into the shop, I didn't know if you were going to welcome me or shoot me.”

“Shooting might have been appropriate. But not my style.” She pulled her hand away, the vibration of his heart still tingling on her palm.

“I'd deserve it.” He dropped into the rickety metal chair she kept beside the desk. “I'm sorry, Jade.” He peered at her. “You are the last person in the world I'd ever want to hurt. In fact, I was trying not to hurt you. Instead, I caused the worst kind of damage.”

“It's okay.” Jade ran her hands over her jeans. “Believe it or not, I do understand. For what it's worth, I shouldn't have run off like I did. I should've . . .” She paused to let her emotions clear. “I should've stayed. Given you a chance.” Her heart knew he was remorseful. Knew he'd been faithful to her since their wedding. But hiding the existence of Asa cut far deeper than the affair with Rice.