Page 62 of Steadfast

“Do I think Crew is cheating? Absolutely not,” Maeve answered firmly. “Do I think he made a bad choice?Yeah—and you can bet I’m going to talk to him about it.” The lecture that Maeve was already weaving together in her mind was one that Crew would not so soon forget.

“It’s not just that, though,” Oakleigh added, pounding her fist onto the fence rail. “What the heck is up with Mia? She was partying during the worst days of my life, and with Hudson. Of all people, why him?” Her voice shook with anger and hurt.

Maeve peered down into the steep ravine below as she considered Oakleigh’s predicament.

“At least give her a chance to explain, Oakleigh. Don’t you think she deserves that?”

Oakleigh didn’t acknowledge Maeve’s advice but simply stepped away and mounted her horse.

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this, Maeve,” Oakleigh replied, a notable coldness edged into her voice.

Maeve shrugged. She was getting used to the fact that life had been turned completely upside down, and it didn’t seem to be easing up anytime soon. Settling back into her saddle, she guided the horse back to the trail toward home.

They rode in silence, with only the sounds of the horse’s hooves and the gentle breeze through the trees. Maeve needed to be assured that Oakleigh’s mind was on her job and not drawn away into the whirlwind of personal drama.

“I really am going to have a talk with Crew,” she reiterated.

“Don’t make it a huge thing,” Oakleigh backpedaled, “I need him to be focused. I can’t be a distraction. Not again.” She looked away and dashed an angry tear from her eye beforeit could tumble down her cheek. “I almost got him killed once, Maeve.”

“Oakleigh, we’ve been through this,” Maeve gently reminded her. “You need to accept forgiveness and leave it in the past.” Even as she said it, she knew that no amount of early morning conversations over coffee could genuinely bring the young woman any peace. Maeve knew better than anyone that it had to be the Lord.

“Not until after he competes,” Oakleigh hammered her point, looking to Maeve to be sure she agreed to her request.

“Okay, hun,” Maeve conceded.

After a few more moments of silence between them on the trail, Oakleigh spoke up once again with a question that seemed to be pressing on her mind.

“Did you and Abel ever fight?”

Maeve sat back in her saddle and thought about it. “Not usually,” she answered. “We were on the same page about most things.” It was then that the worst argument they ever had crossed Maeve’s memory. She shook her head, running her fingers across her brow as an amused smile threatened to burst across her face.

Noticing Maeve’s expression, Oakleigh insisted, “All right, now you’ve got to tell me.”

“It was over, Crew, actually,” Maeve admitted.

“Oh?” Oakleigh’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

For once, Maeve didn’t feel the usual gut punch when discussing Abel. This time, sharing the memory felt rewarding.

“It had become clear that having children of our own wasn’t in the Lord’s plan for us,” Maeve began. “We had prayed for children for years. When we adopted Sawyer, it was one of the greatest days of my life.” Maeve had a dash of pride in her eye as she looked out over the trail.

“Sawyer was about seven years old when he brought Crew home and begged us to keep him, like some sort of stray pet he had found.” She smiled with a hint of nostalgia. “I had to explain to him that we just couldn’t keep someone else’s child.”

“Once he understood, I loaded Crew up in Abel’s truck and drove him back to the little trailer park at the edge of the county. When we got there and saw the conditions—it was no place for a child to live. It was no place for anyone to live.”

Maeve’s smile faded as she recalled every detail.

“His mom, well, she had her problems,” Maeve said, her voice fading away. She could say a lot about Crew’s mother, who hadn’t even noticed he was missing all afternoon, but she wouldn’t. The truth was, she still prayed for her often.

“I didn’t want to leave him, Oakleigh.”

She felt her chest ache just thinking about when she stood there in front of the filthy trailer, holding Crew’s little hand in hers.

“I packed that little boy back in the truck and brought him home to the ranch.” She sighed, remembering just what had happened next. “Abel was the voice of reason, and we argued.”Maeve gave Oakleigh a wide eyed glance. “I mean, wereallyargued.”

“And?” Oakleigh asked, fully engaged as she held the reins and guided her horse down the trail.

“And Abel drove Crew back to the little rundown trailer park,” Maeve answered. “That night, he held me close and promised that we would find a way to give that boy a home and a family. We prayed together, and Abel kept his word—he always did.”

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