Love Is Patient and A Heart's Refuge (25 page)

“Did you take psychology as well as journalism?” he
asked, still holding her hand, his eyes concentrating on her fingers.

“No. I think I know you and your kind.”

“Ah, a woman of the world in spite of her Christian upbringing.” He smiled, but Becky could sense it was forced.

“Christian doesn’t mean naive,” she said sharply. “I have had a few boyfriends.”

“Past tense I notice.”

Becky pulled her hand out of his, retreating to the distance she shouldn’t have crossed. “I thought I came up here to get some information from you.”

“And all you got so far was a cup of tea and confessions.”

Rick’s comment reminded her that she had stepped out of the boundaries of their relationship as well as he had. He looked at her again, but this time his expression was serious. “I can give it to you on Monday” was all he said.

He wanted her to leave and suddenly she didn’t want to go. “I’m here now. I may as well get it.”

With a light shrug of resignation, Rick opened the file and pulled out a couple of pieces of paper. He slipped them across the table to her, but didn’t meet her eyes. “Even though we’re only going two days, the people at Triple Bar J wanted to make things as easy as possible for us, so they gave me some background information.” He pulled out another single sheet of paper. “This is what we’ll be doing and a list of personal items you need to take if you come. They’ll be packing it in on horses so they have a maximum weight you’re allowed.”

Becky glanced over the list. “I hope I can find the time to go.”

“I hope so, too.”

His quiet response was far more sincere than his previous one, which made Becky look up at him, faint surprise drifting through her.

Rick didn’t look away immediately, and once again Becky felt the same arc of awareness she had felt the first time she met him.

Please, Lord, I can’t be attracted to him. He’s not the man for me.

But at the same time she didn’t want to look away.

“So, what’re you guys tryin’ to prove?” Katherine Dubowsky didn’t quite slam Becky’s breakfast on the table, but if the silverware hadn’t been lying on a napkin, it would have rattled.

“‘Guys’? ‘Prove’?” As if Becky didn’t know what made Katherine glare down at her, Katherine’s penciled-in eyebrows yanked down over her dark eyes in a sharp V.

Most likely the same thing that had made the usual coffee shop conversation die down the moment Becky stepped into Coffee’s On.

“Makin’ us sound like we don’t know how to run a business.” Katherine leaned on the table, bringing her angry face closer to Becky’s. “That Gavin. Acts like he’s the big shot around town. Like his own business is running so peachy keen. Which it ain’t.”

Becky glanced around the coffee shop. A few of the patrons were avidly watching the exchange, others were
looking intently at their food. But Becky knew they were listening just as hard.

She had Rick to thank for putting her in this tricky situation. “It’s a column we’re trying out for now. If it doesn’t work, well, then it doesn’t work.”

“Well, let me tell you, hon. It doesn’t work.” Katherine pushed herself away from the table. “Though I sure had to laugh at that ‘Runaround Sue’ piece.”

“And what did you think of the rest of the magazine?”

Kim waggled her hand as if balancing the pros and cons. “It looks nice. Lots of ads though. I liked the cowboy article in the ‘People and Places’ part. Sometimes those pieces could be kind of smarmy. But this one I liked.”

Smarmy. Becky squirmed at the word. She had written most of those pieces in the past. That this one, the one that Katherine liked the best, had been done with Rick’s help, galled a little.

“Ya gotta lose that Gavin guy,” Earl McCrae, a feedlot owner sitting at the next table piped in. He adjusted the dusty cap on his head. “He’s trouble.”

“Thanks, Earl. I’ll make note of it.” At least the “trouble” comment balanced out the “smarmy” comment. So far, she and Rick were even.

Katherine tapped her index finger twice on Becky’s table as if underscoring Earl’s words. “Enjoy your breakfast” was all she said.

As if that was going to happen.

Becky had ducked into Coffee’s On early this morning with her notebook computer and the faint hope that
she could get a bit of work done on her book. But the atmosphere in the coffee shop was hardly conducive to the writing she’d hoped to do. She pushed it aside, and made short work of her toast and tea.

“A
ny positive letters from the column in the bunch?” Rick leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. The early-morning sun gilded his hair and enhanced the smooth cast of his features. In spite of her momentary pique with him over her confrontation with Katherine, Becky couldn’t stop the faint lift of her heart.

Okay, he was good-looking and she was a normal woman. A lonely, normal woman. Get on with what you came here for.

“Gavin’s sister sent a very encouraging e-mail,” Becky continued, willing to concede only this small point.

Trixie had sorted through the mail and stacked all the letters responding to Gavin’s article. Compared to the amount of mail the magazine usually generated, this was a glut.

Becky resisted the urge to gloat. Even smile. Being right was enough reward for her. Even so, she couldn’t stop her foot from swinging just a bit.

“The language in the letters is pretty strong.”

“Not as strong as Gavin’s column was.”

Rick tapped his thumb against his chin. “I’m not ready to give up on him.”

“I had a lovely conversation with Katherine Dubowsky only a few moments ago at Coffee’s On. Not impressed. Neither were about half of the customers.” She kept Katherine’s comment about the cowboy article to herself. Rick didn’t need any more ammunition.

“Coffee shop complaints.”

“Well, they’re complaining about Gavin. And on top of these letters, I’m listening. I have to live in this place, Rick, and with the repercussions.”

“I still think they’ll get used to him.”

Goodness, the man was stubborn.

Becky reached across Rick’s desk and flipped through a few envelopes, saving her best shot for last. “I believe here’s one from a business called Clip ’n Curl that didn’t appreciate some of Gavin’s comments.”

“That’s a hairdresser.”

Becky tapped it lightly on the desk. “Not just any hairdresser. Lanette, the owner, calls the owner of Triple Bar J Daddy.” Becky shrugged, trying not to enjoy the moment too much. “I don’t know which you want to sacrifice—Gavin or…” Becky let the question hang and added a light shrug for emphasis.

Rick rocked in his chair. Then he stopped, as if ready to concede. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he said finally, a grin teasing his mouth. “The downfall of the Easterner.”

Becky opened her mouth to refute his statement and
caught the twinkle in his eye. “Okay. I’ll admit it. I love being right.”

“If I drop Gavin I’ll have to come up with something short for that space.” Rick came around to the front of the desk as if to confront her face-to-face. But Becky knew he was giving in and didn’t feel threatened by his nearness.

Felt something else, but she didn’t want to examine that too closely.

A month ago Becky would have recommended they bring Gladys back, but even one issue in, Becky knew Gladys wouldn’t fit anymore. “Do you want me to find someone?”

“No. I’ll take care of it.”

She didn’t have time to enjoy her victory and launched herself out of her chair. “I gotta run. I’m covering the grand opening of the new car dealership. We promised the owner some good coverage.”

“I understand the member of the legislative assembly might be there.”

“He better show up. He’s a brother-in-law of the owner.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” Rick sounded surprised.

“I’ve lived in this community all my life, Rick. In spite of the many changes that have happened here, I know most of the connections and relationships.”

“And that’s how you knew Gavin’s column wouldn’t fly. That kind of intuition works for Okotoks, I’ll grant you that much, but when the magazine expands its influence…”

“I still don’t think a column like Gavin’s works. He’s far too negative. I would guess, as a rule, people don’t
like being told in polysyllabic words that they are dolts who don’t know how to run their business.”

“I still think he had some good advice.”

Becky knew she should stop. Her point had been made. She had been proved right. But she couldn’t. Something about Rick’s comments, his attitude, created an unreasoning need to bring up a contrary view. “It wasn’t his advice, Rick. It was his presentation.”

“So he should have wrapped it up in pretty words.”

Gracious, he was as bad as she was. “Didn’t you ever have to take bad medicine?” she asked. “Didn’t your mother ever put some sugar in it to make it easier to go down? Deceitful, yes, but if you’re doing what you’re doing out of concern, then by all means, use a little bit of sugar.”

“We’re not dealing with kids. Anyone who has any kind of business has had to deal with problems and setbacks. Don’t tell me they don’t know how to take bad news.” Rick dropped one hip against his desk and crossed his arms.

Becky glanced at the clock on Rick’s wall. She didn’t have time to argue but she couldn’t seem to stop. “You agree that he was a mistake. Why replow this old ground?” Becky couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice.

Now Rick swung his foot, his dimple deepening in one cheek as he gave her an engaging smile. “Maybe I like arguing with you. And maybe I want to show you that even though you were right, I was a little bit right, too.”

The teasing tone of his voice coupled with his charming smile brought out a responding grin. “Okay. You were right, too. Hard news for hard times.” She stopped the “but” that was forming and let it lie.

“So are you going to allow me the last word?”

Anything she said right now would be self-fulfilling, so she simply nodded.

“Great. That’s all I wanted.” He reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “Go and enjoy the grand opening.”

His gesture was almost fatherly, but the feelings it aroused in her were hardly those of a daughter. And as their eyes met again she felt herself drawn once again to him, like a moth to a flame.

Dangerous.

She left as quickly as she could.

Becky smiled when she read Rick’s column. He had asked to see what Runaround Sue had written before he wrote up his and this was the result. Not all-out war, but the battle lines were getting drawn. A gentle tug of the gloves.

Well, Sue was up to the challenge, Becky thought, already planning her next column. She just wished her book were as easy to write as the “Runaround Sue” columns were.

“Have a seat, Rick, and tell me what your grandfather has been up to lately,” Diene De Graaf said, patting the empty spot on the sofa beside her. Rick sat down, glancing around Sam and Cora’s living room as he did. Becky sat, legs crossed on the floor across the room, playing a board game with her nieces and nephew. She wore her hair up today, arranged in some combination of curls and pins that looked cute on her. Her hazel eyes sparkled as she cheered on her nephew.

“My grandfather is busy building up his empire,” Rick said, forcing his attention back to Becky’s grandmother. Of all the people he had met in Becky’s family, Diene resembled her most. Same bright eyes that held
a touch of humor. Same slightly stubborn jaw and laughing mouth. “Grandfather has made his mark in Toronto. Now it seems he wants to do the same in Okotoks.”

Diene laughed lightly. “He always was a man of vision. Even when he was living here.”

“He never told me he lived here. Or that he knew you.” Rick could see why his grandfather might have, at one time, been attracted to Diene. Age had only smudged her beauty, not diminished it.

Diene sat back in the couch, smiling lightly. “He was quite the gentleman. Just not the kind of man I saw myself having a future with.”

A peal of laughter drew Rick’s attention to Becky. She was lying flat out on the ground, giggling now, while her nephew and nieces swarmed over her. “You helped him…I saw you…no fair.” The accusations flew at her like popcorn, but even Rick could tell they weren’t really angry.

Becky sat up and scooped the three kids close to her in a group hug. “I love you all, bumpkins,” she said, still giggling. “Now go get me some cake.”

As the children scattered, Becky smoothed her hair and tugged her shirt straight. Then she looked up and their gazes tangled and clung.

He didn’t imagine her soft smile, nor how it made his own heart skip. Just a little. Rick dragged his attention back to Diene and the comment she had made. “And what kind would that be?”

“The same kind of man Becky has been holding out for. A man who knows the Lord.”

Rick didn’t have to look at Diene to feel the gentle warning in her words.

He wanted to pass off his attraction to Becky as the simple chemistry he had felt when he first saw her.

However, he knew that time with her had desimplified the attraction. She wasn’t just a pretty, young woman. He had come to know her in other ways. Had come to admire her ability to stand up to him. To challenge him. Though he and Becky had never talked much about it, he knew her relationship to God was real and true and positive.

Becky got up and glanced his way, holding his gaze as they caught. Neither looked away.

In that moment Rick felt the subtle shift, a realignment of the relationship.

And from the frown making a number eleven between Diene’s eyebrows, Rick could tell that she had felt it, too.

“You know, Rick,” she said laying a hand on his arm. “A grandmother is not supposed to have favorites, but Becky has always held a special place in my heart. Of all my children and grandchildren, she is the most like me.” She pressed her fingers down, as if warning him. “I never dated any man unless I saw them as a future life partner. Becky is the same. She’s not a person to go on casual dates. But the most important reason I turned your grandfather down was because I knew his heart wasn’t right with God at the time.”

In spite of her words, though, Rick heard the unspoken question threaded through her voice.

“Grandfather Colson goes to church,” Rick said. “He raised my mother to fear God. If that means anything.”

Diene smiled and Rick caught a glimpse of yearning
mixed with sadness. “I’m glad for that,” she whispered. “Did he teach you?”

“He tried.” Rick held her gaze and once again felt the faint echo of what had touched him in church when Becky sang. But he wasn’t going to give in that easily. “What I’ve seen in the world hasn’t endeared me to God.”

“How can a loving God allow so much suffering?” she said softly, voicing his thoughts.

“Yes.” Her candid question surprised him. “And as long as I’m asking those kind of questions, I can’t see that God would be interested in me.”

She smiled, looking into the middle distance as if seeking her answer there. “Your grandfather often asked the same question. Interesting that you two are that much alike.” She turned to face him. “It’s a good question to ask, Rick. And God respects the asking. He wants honesty in His relationships with His people. Not fake devotion.” She patted him lightly on the arm. “Keep your heart open to God. He’s not afraid to be asked the hard questions.”

Rick felt a glimmering of truth kindle in him as he held Diene’s eyes. And what other questions would God be able to handle?

“Hey, Mother. Find out all the things you wanted to about your old honey?” Becky’s father dropped onto the couch on the other side of Diene and winked at Rick. The moment was broken.

“Mother used to have quite a thing for your grandfather,” Sam said in a hearty voice. “And now I’ve made her blush.”

Diene tutted lightly, shaking her head. “If you don’t have anything constructive to say, I’m leaving.”

“My mother’s a good woman,” Sam said, laughing as Diene strode to the kitchen. “Just doesn’t take to teasing. Did you want to see the rest of the orchard?”

What Rick wanted was to see Becky again, but she was nowhere in sight.

Colette grabbed her sister by the arm, dragging her up the stairs by the kitchen. “Becks, this Rick is adorable,” Colette said in a stage whisper, glancing over her shoulder.

“That’s exactly what Leanne said. Do you girls subscribe to the same magazines?” Becky laughed off her sister’s gushing comment.

“Have your little joke. I see the way you two look at each other.” Colette winked at her sister. “Just like me and Nick.” Colette pulled her down on the stairs, her knees drawn up to her chin. “Now, tell me more about him. Leanne said he was good-looking, but the words don’t do him justice.”

Becky sighed, indulging in her younger sister’s high school–style gossipfest. She knew she would have no rest until she set the record straight.

“Rick is single. Comes from Toronto originally. He’s Colson Ethier’s grandson and is here to bring
Going West
into the next century. He likes to travel and drinks tea. I believe he’s about six feet tall. Would have to guess on the weight.” Becky ticked the items off on her fingers aware of Colette’s growing impatience.

Colette pushed Becky’s hand down. “Very funny. Now tell me what I really want to know.”

Becky sighed and inspected her fingernails. Saw a hangnail.

“Don’t even think about it.” Colette stopped Becky’s hand halfway up to her mouth. “So. Tell me.”

“Honestly, Colette. There’s nothing to say. He’s only here for a little bit and then he’ll be gone. And I’m too busy.”