Small-Town Billionaire

God, are You trying to teach me some lesson here? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve already learned this one. Or are You giving me a temptation I’m supposed to overcome? Is that it? Because if it is, I want You to know that I’m not tempted to make the same mistake again. And it’d suit me just fine if You’d go ahead and give Ryan the desire to go home. He doesn’t tempt me at all.

She rounded the last curve in the driveway and saw the non-temptation tossing slivers from a bale of hay over the fence toward the black stallion. His crutches were propped nearby, and he apparently had his weight settled on his good leg so he could fling the slices of hay farther. The action caused his biceps to flex against the sleeves of his navy T-shirt, and Maribeth was pretty sure she also noticed a couple of indentations in the front of that shirt where a six-pack, or maybe eight-pack, of abs were also in steady motion. His jeans were ripped along the outer seam to allow room for his cast, which only added to the entire rugged image.

So this was what she got for arriving earlier than usual. She’d hardly seen Ryan Brooks here since Monday, because typically he had gone to his therapy session by the time she arrived. But today she’d wanted extra time to get the additional materials ready for her two new campers. And because of her efficiency, she had no choice but to start her day interacting with America’s most eligible bachelor billionaire.

Lovely.

He tossed the last shard of hay across the fence, then shook his head at Onyx, who was holding his nose in the air as if he didn’t want the treat. “Your stubbornness is only making me more determined,” Ryan said, then turned his back on the horse, which put him facing Maribeth.

She was still in the car but her window was down, so she couldn’t ignore him when he asked, “You need help carrying anything?”

Great. He was injured and still attempting to feed a horse and assist Maribeth with her camp supplies. “No, I’m good,” she said. She actually had quite a lot of supplies to carry into the barn, but having him help her tote them would only put him in closer proximity than he already was, and she didn’t need or want to be any closer to the man. Really.

She scooped up the bag of materials Dana had brought her last night, as well as a container filled with trail mix she’d made this morning for the group. Then she looped her other arm through her purse and shifted to open the door, while the gorgeous rich boy leaned against the fence eyeing her slow progress.

The car door opened partially and then started back on her before she got all the way out, slamming her shin. “Ouch!”

He reached for his crutches.

“No, I’ve got it,” she said through gritted teeth.

With a grunt, Ryan let go of the crutches, then leaned against the fence again. “Looks like Onyx isn’t the only stubborn one around here,” he said.

Maribeth wanted to reply with some snappy remark, but the sight of him caused all form of speech to lodge in her throat. His arms were crossed, drawing attention to those muscular biceps and a hard-plated chest. Add to that eyes that appeared even bluer in the morning sunlight and a smile that looked more genuine than confident, and—billionaire or not—he could be the poster guy for every woman’s temptation.

And that included Maribeth.

Okay, God. So I was wrong. He’s tempting. But I can handle it. I’m not going to fall for a guy like him again. But even so, if You don’t mind, make it easier on me and send him home.

With all of her materials balanced in both arms, she kicked the car door closed and started toward the barn the same way she did every morning, except that there was no way to get there without walking near the guy leaning against the fence and grinning.

Did You have to make him so good-looking, Lord?

She took a deep breath, let it out and asked, “Something funny?” Then she silently reprimanded herself for her snarky tone.

“Nooope,” he drawled, and she suspected he was trying hard to sound country. He pulled it off fairly well, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m just enjoying this amazing morning,” he said. “Some sky, isn’t it?” He tilted his head toward the fields, and for the first time today, Maribeth absorbed her surroundings beyond the appealing rich guy.

The green fields had a golden hue as the sun began its ascent and bathed the grass in yellow light. White Charolais cattle gathered in several groups on the nearest hills like earthbound clouds; Fallon, Red and the other docile horses huddled near the barn, apparently waiting for John to bring out a fresh round of sweet feed. A rooster crowed in the distance, chickens clucked, cows mooed and horses neighed, each sound adding to the appeal of the scene, as did the combined smells of hay, worn leather and sweet feed.

But Ryan’s comment about the sky pulled her attention away from the normal sights, sounds and smells of a morning on the farm to the reddish-orange hue claiming dominion above the colors of the land. “Wow,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I’ve never seen a sky that red in Chicago, but that could be because the smog from the city covers it up. Either way, this one is pretty incredible.”

She couldn’t argue with the truth. “Yeah, it is.”

“What’s that saying?” he asked. “Something about red skies at morning?”

Still captivated by the scene, Maribeth quoted, “‘Red skies at night, sailors delight; red skies at morning, sailors take warning.’ It’s actually taken from a verse in the Bible. I believe it’s in Matthew.”

“I wouldn’t know about whether it’s in the Bible,” he said, “but I have heard the saying before.”

His honesty about his lack of Bible knowledge took her by surprise. In this area of the country, “the buckle of the Bible Belt,” as it was called, most everyone was at least familiar with what was or wasn’t in the Good Book. And if you didn’t know that much about it, you sure wouldn’t readily admit it. But Ryan appeared nonchalant about his admission. As if it were no big deal.

Maribeth suddenly thought she knew why God put this man in her path. It wasn’t to tempt her; it was because she was meant to help him. “We have a Bible study here every day of the camp. I’ll probably use that verse in the one we have this afternoon. If the weather does get bad, we’ll have the Bible study in the barn instead of on the trails, so you could come.” A sense of rightness filled her with the invitation. He might have everything money could buy, but he apparently didn’t have God in his life. And she knew what a difference He could make.

Ryan seemed to consider her words but then shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve got several conference calls scheduled for this afternoon and reports to review.”

Maribeth had no doubt the head of the company could adjust his schedule if he wanted, and clearly, Ryan didn’t want to.

“So we’re in for some bad weather?” he asked.

She decided it best not to push the Bible study request. If she was meant to get him thinking about God, she’d do it slowly and patiently. Maybe she could control the temptation of having Ryan Brooks around if she were focused on introducing him to the Lord. “I didn’t watch the weather report,” she admitted, “but if the saying holds true, then yeah, I guess we are. And I’ve never known the sky to be wrong about that. My daddy actually gauges his fishing trips in the Gulf around the sky more than the weather report.”

“Your father goes deep-sea fishing?” he asked.

“It’s a popular thing to do where we live—where they live, I mean,” she corrected.

“Where’s that?” he asked.

“In Destin, Florida, where I grew up. We ate a lot of fresh seafood that he caught on his weekend fishing trips. Daddy works for an office supply company during the week, but he lives for the weekends when he can go fishing. And whenever our friends and family came to town, they usually wanted to go fishing with Dad.”

“My father and I talked about deep-sea fishing together sometime, but we never got around to it.” He opened his mouth as if he were going to say more, but then stopped and took his attention back to that crimson sky. “So you grew up at the beach?”

“We didn’t live on the beach, but we were very close, walking distance,” she said.

“I’ve always heard people who grow up on a coast never leave. And your family is still there?” Those blue eyes returned their focus to Maribeth, and she felt oddly uncomfortable in the way he studied her, as though he were trying to put the pieces of her past into place.

She’d rather her past stay put where it was, but she wasn’t going to ignore his question. “Yes, they’re still in Destin.”

“Are you close to your family?” he continued.

Maribeth glanced toward the log cabin and wished Dana would come on outside to get her out of this conversation. “Yes, I am,” she said, and when he looked as though he doubted it, she added, “I love my parents and my two sisters very much, and I didn’t leave Destin to get away from them, if that’s what you’re implying.”

He lifted his palms. “Hey, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I’m just making conversation.” Then he smiled, and Maribeth tried to relax. He was making typical getting-to-know-you conversation, and she’d had these same questions asked several times when she first moved to Claremont. Yet somehow having Ryan Brooks ask them seemed too personal.

Be polite, she silently told herself. This was Dana’s brother, after all, and he couldn’t help it if he was so very similar to the actual reason she’d left Destin.

“What made you leave the beach for a town like Claremont? Since you own your store, I’m assuming you could’ve started it in Destin, or in any other town. I’d never even heard of Claremont until Dana met John Cutter. How did you find the place?”

She’d also been asked that question quite often when she first relocated to the tiny town, and even though she hadn’t heard it in a while, she recited her trademark answer. “I wanted to experience life in a small town,” she said, forcing a smile, “and I wanted to start a business on my own.”

“Make a name for yourself?” he asked.

Actually, she’d been running away from the name she’d made for herself. Making a new name for herself would be more like it. “Something like that,” she said. Thankfully, she saw Dana walking toward the barn with a travel mug in each hand.

“I know what that’s like,” he said, “wanting to make a name for yourself.”

Maribeth started to ask him what he meant, but then Dana called out, “Hey, Maribeth, I didn’t know you’d be here already. I got a cup of coffee for me and Ryan. Want me to get you one, too?”

“I had a cup before I left the store, but thanks,” Maribeth answered.

“You’ve already been to work this morning?” Ryan asked.

“I live there. That was one of the things so appealing about the place on the square—each store has an apartment on the second floor.” She hadn’t planned on saying more than a couple of words to the guy as she made her way to the barn, but oddly enough, she was finding him easy to talk to.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Dana asked as she reached them. “That Maribeth can simply walk downstairs to be at work?”

“Yes,” he said, “it is.”

Maybe this was God’s way of showing her that she didn’t have to see guys like Ryan Brooks as completely off-limits. He didn’t have to be a temptation that she couldn’t withstand. Maybe they could be friends and she could even help him with his relationship with God somehow. Then she could go her merry way without any form of discomfort from being around someone who so blatantly reminded her of her past mistakes.

“Wow, did y’all notice that sky?” Dana asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“We were just talking about that,” Ryan said. “And about that old saying that red skies in the morning mean bad weather is coming.”

“Oh, that’s right.” She held up the other mug. “Want your coffee now, or you want to wait until we’re in the car?”

“I’ll wait,” he said.

Dana nodded, still taking in that sky, which seemed to have grown even redder in the time since Maribeth and Ryan had started talking. “I’d forgotten about that red-skies-at-morning thing,” Dana said.

“Apparently it comes from the Bible,” Ryan said, and then he laughed when Dana sputtered on her coffee. “I only know because she just told me.” He tilted his head toward Maribeth.

“Well,” Dana said, “you have my permission to share any Biblical knowledge you want with my brother. I’ve been trying to introduce him to Jesus for a couple of years now, but he hasn’t been interested.”

“I asked him to the camp’s Bible study this afternoon,” Maribeth said, “but he’s busy.”

“I have conference calls,” he repeated, “and I wouldn’t have a thing to contribute to a Bible study.” When Dana started to speak, he shook his head. “Don’t, sis. We’ve gone through this before. That’s your life, not mine.”

Maribeth suddenly felt sorry for her friend. And she also felt sorry for her own family, when they’d tried to bring Maribeth back to the straight and narrow road and she’d barreled on her own way. Later, she’d regretted that. And she wondered if Ryan Brooks would regret it later, too. “You should at least give the Bible study a try,” she said.

He grabbed his crutches and put one beneath each arm. “Like I said, I wouldn’t know anything about it, and I’m not going to attempt to participate in something I know nothing about. But I do know a thing or two about business, and I’d like to talk to you sometime about yours. Consigning Women, the business—the concept—has a lot of potential, and you’ve only scratched the surface. I could help you make that name for yourself.”

And just like that, Maribeth saw through the nice-guy image to the real man beneath the friendly facade. He’d seen her business and wanted it for himself. Maybe not the whole thing, but he had hopes of using her idea for his own benefit. She could see it in his eyes: another rich boy used to getting any and everything he ever wanted. He was being nice because he wanted something.

“I don’t think so,” she said, and didn’t hide the irritation in her tone. Then she turned away, told Dana to have a good day and headed into the barn.

* * *

Ryan’s coffee sloshed in the travel mug when Dana stomped on the brakes before they reached the main road.

“Hey, easy there,” he said, taking a sip to keep more from spilling over the top.

“I don’t get it,” she said, apparently forgetting that they were already running late to his rehab appointment. “Maribeth told you last night that she isn’t interested in her business growing bigger, but you just won’t let up, will you?” She placed her mug in the cup holder and put the car in Park, obviously not going anywhere until Ryan responded.

“Why wouldn’t anyone want to go bigger?” he asked.

“Everyone isn’t you, Ryan,” she said, then visibly swallowed. “Everyone doesn’t want to be Dad.” When he didn’t say anything, she continued, “That’s it, isn’t it? You think you’ve got to spend your life trying to make everything a little bit better, and a whole lot bigger, the same way he did. Well, I’ll tell you something. That didn’t make him happy, because things couldn’t satisfy him. He realized that in the end.”

Ryan had heard this speech way too many times in the two years since Lawrence Brooks had died, and he didn’t want to hear it again, particularly since it wasn’t true. “I’m not trying to be Dad. That’s the whole point of me wanting to help grow Maribeth’s business. She said she came here to make a name for herself, and I understand that, because that’s what I want to do. I’m drowning in Dad’s shadow. Everything I’ve done at that company has been done exactly—exactly—the way Dad did it. Nothing original. Nothing new. I’ve followed his strategies, utilized his resources and basically continued living in his world. My investments, each and every resort property, were the ones he already had in his sights when he died. Do you realize that the board hasn’t approved anything that he hadn’t already set into play?”

“Nothing you’ve recommended to the board has been approved?”

“That’s just it. I haven’t had a chance to recommend anything, because Dad had the next decade lined up.”

“How?”

“Not exact properties and investments, but he set the plan in motion, the types of scenarios that were must-have purchases for the company, and that’s what the board is looking for. They aren’t interested in messing with a system that works.”

“But that leaves you out of the equation,” she said.

“The one time they’ve deviated from Dad’s plan was when they approved the funding for new entrepreneurs, and that was due to you going to bat for John’s dude ranch.”

“But you want to make your mark in the company as well, and you saw Maribeth’s idea as a way to make that happen,” she said, realization dawning on her face.

“Pretty much. Maribeth’s idea is ingenious. She’s tapped into something original, inventive and clever, and I think—no, I know—that I can help her make it huge. I’d be investing in something that I found, something that I believe in. Something Brooks International has never done before.”

“But it’s Maribeth’s concept,” she said. “And she likes it the way it is—a small store in the Claremont town square. She doesn’t want to make it bigger.”

“She said she wanted to make a name for herself,” Ryan repeated.

“And she has, here, in Claremont.” Dana ran her hand through her hair then turned to face him. “Listen, I know you think convincing her to hand over Consigning Women so that you can turn it into some worldwide conglomeration is a good idea and that deep down, you actually believe you’d be helping her.”

“I would be.”

“Not if it isn’t what she wants.” She shook her head, then said, “I thought, or rather, I hoped that part of your decision to stick around for the remaining weeks of your therapy was because you had an interest in Maribeth. And I don’t mean her business, but her, the person. In my opinion, she’s exactly the type of person you need in your life. She’s beautiful and smart, and she loves God. And she’s feisty enough to handle you, which I can’t say about most women.” She opened her fingertips above the steering wheel and then curled them in to clasp it, but Ryan suspected she’d rather be pressing them against his throat. She’d never been good at hiding irritation. “I thought you were acting interested in her, but I should have known you were only interested in her idea and what you could do with it.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t deny that he was physically attracted to Maribeth, but he also didn’t plan on acting on that attraction. Dana was right; the lady was beautiful, smart and feisty. And she seemed like the real deal when it came to her love of God, which was something Dana wanted in Ryan’s life, even if it wasn’t something he was looking for. Truthfully, he didn’t know enough about God to know whether he wanted Him in his life or not. But the main reason he couldn’t have any type of relationship with the woman was because that strong, bizarre attraction he felt every time she was around seemed way too similar to the fascination he’d had toward Nannette. It felt real. And his past experience told him that if it seemed that real that quick...it wasn’t.

He wouldn’t get his heart broken again.

“Wait a minute,” Dana said, studying him as though she knew his very thoughts. And, based on past experience, he suspected she did. All of those years with the two of them depending on each other as best friends when their father left them to one nanny or another had them so tuned in to each other’s feelings that Dana didn’t miss where his mind had headed now.

“You are feeling something toward Maribeth, aren’t you?” she questioned. “But you’re still suffering from shell shock after what happened with Nannette.” She nodded once, as though she didn’t need affirmation from Ryan to know she’d hit the mark. Then she picked up her coffee mug, took a sip and then put the car in drive. “I’ve changed my mind,” she said, pulling out onto the road.

Ryan drank his coffee, which had turned cold and bitter, and debated whether to ask, but curiosity got the best of him. “Okay, I’ll bite. Changed your mind about what?”

“About you talking to Maribeth about her business. I think you should try to convince her to let you help her out, make her business bigger and all of that.” Her smile looked way too smug. “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea, in fact.”

He could figure out nearly every board member’s wishes by studying their faces at the table, but he had no idea what was going on in Dana’s mind right now. “You think it’s a great idea?”

“Yes. Because I know Maribeth, and she isn’t going to do anything she doesn’t want to do. If she has her mind made up, there isn’t a thing you can do to change that.” Still grinning, she accelerated and added, “But I also know that she could make a difference in your life. Because she’s exactly what you need, whether you realize it or not, and I’m not talking about her business.”

“It’s her business I’m interested in,” he said. “That’s it.” But even as he said the words, he, like Dana, debated whether they were true.

Chapter Three

Ryan was more sore than usual after this morning’s rehab, but based on what Dr. Aldredge had said, that was a good thing. And the doctor had finally unlocked the cast, so he could get around better and start wearing normal clothes. Though this apparel could hardly be considered normal for Ryan. Dana had bought him a few Western shirts during their trip to the square and insisted that he wear them to “blend” on the farm during his stay. She’d been so excited about buying them that Ryan didn’t argue, but it still took him by surprise when he looked in the mirror and saw something like a “real” cowboy staring back at him.

The shirt was red-and-brown plaid. Plaid. Ryan had never worn anything plaid in his life, but Dana had liked it and said it was a “must-have,” so he’d conceded. He couldn’t recall owning a shirt that snapped instead of buttoned, either, but this one did. The saleslady at the Country Outfitter store had first wanted to take his picture so she could prove Ryan Brooks actually shopped there, and then she’d wanted another of him wearing some of the clothes. Ryan had obliged. He was used to people taking his picture, after all, even if it hadn’t happened since he’d arrived in Claremont. But he also had to admit that it was nice not having a big lens pointed at him every time he went out.

However, the woman’s exclamation that he should keep wearing the clothes because they made him “look just like Blake Shelton” got a laugh out of Ryan. He didn’t have the foggiest idea who Blake Shelton was, though Dana quickly clued him in about the famous country singer. The thing was, Ryan had never bought—and would never buy—something to try to look like someone else. He was his own person. Or at least that’s what he wanted to be, even if he often found himself lost in the memory of Lawrence Brooks. Like today, when the head of acquisitions for Brooks International questioned whether Ryan thought his father would have selected the resort Ryan had purchased last year in Miami. No, the return on investment wasn’t where it needed to be yet, but that had more to do with the economy than the possibility that the purchase was a poor decision on Ryan’s part.

He was proud of everything his father had accomplished, but tired of having every decision compared to the master. If he had a way to make his name known, put his personal stamp on the Brooks empire, then maybe his board would stop questioning his every move.

A crack of lightning brought his attention to the storm brewing outside. He’d spent the afternoon responding to corporate memos and evaluating the weekly reports, and he’d planned to get outside for a breath of fresh air when he finished. But the bad weather they’d anticipated had arrived, and from the look of things, it’d hit the campers on their way back. The line of horses moved slowly through the drizzle toward the barn, and even in the gray haze, he could see Maribeth’s smile.