Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
And as soon as this thought popped in her head—-
Ask for a sign.
Hope started crying again.
Go on, child.
Because even though she had given up on Him, God had not given up on her. And it was why He was here now, when she needed Him the most, and even when she didn't deserve Him.
"I'm tired, God," she choked out. "I'm just so tired of trying to figure everything out on my own. I'm tired of acting like I can do things by myself. And I'm sorry for even thinking that I could."
Her gaze turned to the window, and starry skies stared back at her like silent witnesses from the heavens.
"I don't know what to do about Colin. But I know that I can trust You to tell me what to do. So p-please God. P-Please..."
She was sobbing so hard she had to try and try again until she was finally able to speak.
"Give me a sign," Hope said brokenly. "If you want me to fight for Colin, if you want us to be together, show me. Please."
She closed her eyes, and an image of a hawk flashed in her mind.
It was His sign.
If she were to see one, then she would know what to do.
Chapter Nine
Hope's phone lit up with 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!
"When did this happen?" she managed finally.
"Papers arrived by courier this morning." Frank cleared his throat, clearly trying to regain composure. "Your Colin said not to tell you until everything was finalized. Wanted it to be a proper surprise." He hesitated, then added, "He came to see us in person. Nine days ago, if I remember correctly. Spent hours asking about our greatest concerns for the community, what would make the most difference for folks struggling here."
Nine days ago.
This was before she had received Charlotte's email. And even before the night he had told her he was in love.
"Give him a proper thank you from all of us, will you?"
As the call ended, Hope sat motionless, overwhelmed by the implications of Colin's actions. This wasn't manipulation or calculated strategy. This was understanding on the deepest level—recognition of what truly mattered to her, what provided genuine security beyond material comfort.
He had seen her. Truly seen her. And this time, for better or for worse, she also believed he had spoken the truth...when he said he loved her.