Chapter Thirteen
Bethany
I stared breathlessly at the dramatic scene unfolding in the barn below me, clutching Colton's hand. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and my heart went out to Emma.
Her dilemma was very similar to my own. She'd been working towards a goal that meant a lot to her, and just on the cusp of reaching it, she fell in love with a Hutchinson man. Just like her, I had to choose between leaving to complete my lifelong ambitions or staying to be with the man I loved.
Just like Emma wanted to be a missionary, I'd wanted to be an artist for as long as could remember. I used to sit in my bedroom for hours, sketching drawings. When I'd been able to take art as an elective in school, I was introduced to painting, and my passion grew from there. The paintbrush came alive in my hand, giving me purpose, and an outlet for all the emotions I'd kept trapped inside for all my life.
Unlike Emma, I'd never had a home where I felt safe and loved, but when I painted landscapes, homes, and villages, it was like I had. All my pain and sorrow disappeared, and as long as I was painting, I was happy.
Then, I discovered that other people appreciated my art, too, and would be willing to hang my paintings on their walls. Not only did it mean something I had done had value to others, but that the love and emotion I had put into each brush stroke was immortal and would live on for as long as that painting hung on their wall.
The internship I had won at the museum was an opportunity to have my own art show, which would expand my career as an artist and possibly lead to more people buying my paintings and having them hang on more walls. It was too great a goal for me to sacrifice and throw away on a whim.
I hadn't been able to see it that way until I heard Emma Fields promising Brett Hutchinson that she would sacrifice her dream of going to Africa and serving as a missionary if he would be her boyfriend.
I'd first heard Emma talking about going to Africa when I went to church with Margie on Sunday. She had been so excited about it, and when she talked about sharing God's word with the villagers and helping them to dig a new water well, her entire face had lit up like a candle. I could see what it meant to her, and I'd been excited for her.
When I heard her offer to give all that up to be Brett's girlfriend, my stomach actually churned, and I thought I might be sick. I loved Brett like the ornery little brother I never had, but I'd seen him chase after every girl he laid his eyes on. He'd even hit on me when I first drove up to the ranch a little over a month ago.
He went out with a different girl every Friday night, and another one on Saturdays. He was as much a player as any bachelor in the city, and I couldn't begin to calculate how many hearts he'd broken.
Emma was smart, sweet, and dedicated to doing God's work. She didn't need to settle for a man who would treat her badly, cheat, or abandon her like Frank had done to me and my mother. I wasn't certain Brett would do any of those things, but there was no guarantee that he wouldn't, either. She was risking throwing away all her goals and dreams for something as uncertain as love.
In a jarring moment of clarity, I realized I was doing the same thing. Just like Jillian and Emma, I was ready to throw away my career as an artist for Colton. Sure, we loved each other, but what kind of guarantee was that? We'd only known each other a month. How did that compare to a lifetime of wanting to be an artist?
As I watched Emma stride from the barn and Brett chase after her, it all became so terrifyingly clear. My father was right: I was at risk of throwing away my whole life for a man I barely knew.
Just then Colton turned to look at me with his hazel-green eyes flashing with merriment.
"That was something." He gave a little whistle before turning to me with a playful grin.
"It sure was," I had to agree.
"What do you say we finish what we started?" He gave me a sexy wink and then leaned in to kiss me.
I rolled over in the hay, dodging his embrace. "No thanks."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm just not in the mood any longer."
"Maybe I can put you back in the mood." He leered at me playfully, but I didn't laugh.
I just buttoned up my blouse and crossed my arm over my chest like a barrier. "I don't think you can. I'm tired. I'm going to take a bath and go to bed early."
"I'll walk you back to the house."
"No, don't. I'd rather be alone." I climbed down the ladder and walked away without even looking back. It would have been easy to stay there with him and let him make love me like he did so well, but I needed to get some space. I needed to be alone to gain some perspective and figure out what was really going to make me happy.