Chapter Nine
Hope's phone lit upwith a new text message, the third from Colin today:
Would you have dinner with me tonight?
She set aside the novel she hadn't really been reading, staring at the message with mixed emotions. Five days since she'd moved into the downtown hotel. Five days of contemplation, of measured responses to Colin's increasingly earnest attempts at reconciliation.
The flowers had arrived first—an extravagant arrangement of exotic blooms that filled her hotel room with heady fragrance. Lovely, thoughtful, but somehow missing the point. Yesterday, a velvet jewelry box had been delivered, containing a platinum pendant that matched the emerald earrings he'd given her before the reunion. Beautiful, certainly, yet it felt like he was courting someone else entirely—someone impressed by luxury rather than substance.
Hope's fingers hovered over the reply button. She needed to face him, to explain what she was feeling, what she was waiting for. But not in a public restaurant, surrounded by other diners and expectations.
Can we meet privately instead?
His response arrived almost immediately:
Name the time and place. I miss you. I love you.
The swiftness of Colin's reply hurt. She could practically feel his desperation. His frantic need to see her. Talk to her. And beg for her forgiveness. But a part of her was still terrified this was just guilt talking, and he would one day think of her as someone who could turn him into a laughingstock...again.
Hope's phone rang just as she was about to have a shower, and she answered the call as soon as she saw her foster father's name flashing on the screen.
"Hope?" Frank Barton's familiar voice, rough with emotion, filled the line. "Is that you, sweetheart?"
"Dad?" Concern immediately replaced caution. "What is it?"
"Yes, yes." Frank's laugh emerged wet, as if through tears. "Better than okay. I'm calling because—" He broke off, clearly overwhelmed. "I don't even know how to say this."
Hope's grip tightened on the phone. "What's happened?"
"Your husband." Frank's voice strengthened with obvious gratitude. "He didn't just stop the foreclosure, Hope. He paid off our mortgage. Every cent. The ranch is ours free and clear."
Hope sank onto the edge of the bed, shock stealing her words momentarily.
"There's more." Frank sounded almost giddy now, the gruff rancher overcome with emotion. "He set up a drought fund for all the small ranchers in the county. Anyone who needs irrigation improvements, who's struggling with the changing climate—they can apply for grants through the Barton Rural Sustainability Foundation."
Hope tried to process the magnitude of what Colin had done—not just saving her foster parents' farm, but establishing a foundation that would help countless others in their community. And in her foster parents' name, too!
