Page 65 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

Didn’t the Bible talk about true love? She tapped a search into her phone. First Corinthians 13 showed at the top of the results. She’d read that dozens of times. What else was there? Another link pointed to 1 John 4, so she opened that one and scanned the words.

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.

She re-read the verses. God’s love was manifested in Jesus’ sacrifice for her. Wasn’t that a rescue? Maybe Graham wasn’t as far off as she’d thought.

Could a person love someone else, someone who had needs — Cadence winced at the enormity of hers — and not even try to alleviate the burdens caused by them?

God saw the chaos people had created and loved them so much He rescued them. Or at least formed a plan to do so, but it was up to each individual to decide whether to activate that plan or not.

She’d taken that rescue for granted, but had she fully accepted it? Embraced it?

Propitiation, though. What was that all about? She looked it up. Atonement. Appeasement. Jesus met the requirements for her sins. She’d known that, of course.

Cadence stared at the creek bubbling its way out of the lake on its way to the Clark Fork. Sweet River, named for the sweetgrass plant. Didn’t First Nations people revere it for its aroma that symbolized healing and peace?

Healing and peace. Wasn’t that what she needed? But it wouldn’t be found in a plant, aromatherapy notwithstanding. It would only be found in Jesus.

She inhaled deeply, trying to discern the vanilla-like fragrance amid the other sub-alpine blooms that crowded the creek bank and swept up into the meadow. She closed her eyes. A summer breeze flirted with her cheek and whispered in her hair. The sun’s warmth filtered through the dappling of overhanging trees, aspens and conifers alike. A mountain lark sang a delicate melody in the distance, and a bee or two droned nearby.

Slowly, slowly, the tension eased out of Cadence’s muscles.

God was here. He’d created this amazing place and filled it with everything needed to tantalize all her senses.

He loved her.

And yes, deliverance was part of that love.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

How had she thought love could exist without rescue? That it was somehow separate?

Graham wasn’t God. Not even a little bit, but he was trying to show his love in a way that God did — by offering her a way of escape.

Why was she having such a hard time accepting it from him?

Chapter Eighteen

Summer was dwindling to a close. Schools across the country had started fall classes, but there were still plenty of families vacationing at Sweet River Ranch. Weston and his crew still offered trail rides and horseback lessons. Paisley still offered daily programming for kids, and many of them still splashed and squealed at the lake’s small beach when nothing else was on the agenda.

And where was Cadence?

If Graham didn’t have access to the resort’s Instagram and Facebook pages, he’d barely know she was still around. He caught a glimpse of her here and there, usually disappearing in the distance.

He didn’t have time to sit in the dining hall the entire time the lines were open simply to catch sight of her. Not if she was this desperate to reject him.

He’d blown it, possibly forever. See, this was why he’d never made a move back in college. He was hopelessly incompetent, and he’d known he would mess up. Better not to even go there.

A twenty-eight-year-old Graham had done very little thinking that night in June when he’d stood up to Paul then facilitated the breakup. And then offered Cadence a job and a place to live and a ride west.

Now he stared out the office window as shadows lengthened across the lake. The mess was inevitable. It was who he was. He should have kept his mouth shut.

No, he shouldn’t. He should have rescued Cadence, either way. She deserved to be happy. To be loved.

Whatever made him think he could be the one to love her?

Whoever let him open his mouth and try to rescue her a second time?

And now he was contemplating doing it a third time. He stared at the listing that hadn’t even gone live yet in Chicago. The bank was about to foreclose on Cadence’s parents’ house.

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