attention to Carrie. “So, are we going to talk about my past, present, or future?”
CHAPTER NINE
“Do you have a preference?” Carrie balanced the notepad on her knees, her pen poised inches from the page. Her attention, however, was focused on the corporate executive on the other side of the desk.
Her reporter’s eye went from the owner of the office to the details of the space. Other than the children’s art, the lone framed item in the room sat directly behind Mr. Renfro. It was a page from a book. Upon closer inspection she noted that the book from which this yellowed page came was a King James Bible.
“No,” Mr. Renfro said without the slightest hesitation. “Within limits, my life is an open book, some chapters better than others.” He paused and seemed to be assessing her. “But then if you’re any good as a reporter, you know all about the bad chapters. So why don’t you start by telling me what you know?”
Carrie leveled an even stare at her host. “Born in Brooklyn, raised in New Jersey. Married. One son, two daughters,” she recited from memory. “Influence peddling, stock manipulation, and a half-dozen white collar crimes that added up to a stint in a minimum security prison back East. How am I doing?”
“All true so far.” He smiled. “Is that all you’ve got?”
She shook her head. “Born again after a visit from a prison minister. Left prison to start a company that eventually became Camex. Gives large but unsubstantiated donations to Christian charities.” She paused. “Did I miss anything?”
He leaned back and the big leather chair groaned in protest. Swiveling to stare out the window at the merry scene unfolding beyond the glass, Mr. Renfro seemed to be deep in thought. Finally he whirled back around and leaned forward. Amusement danced in his dark eyes.
“Did you miss anything?” Her host asked the question with a contemplative tone, as if he too were wondering. “Miss Collins, if I may say so, you’ve researched me quite well.”
“Thank you.”
“As to whether you missed anything, if I might be so bold, I think you missed the most important thing.” Mr. Renfro shrugged. “Haven’t you wondered why I brought you all the way out to Wimberly today?”
Good question. Carrie pondered the possibilities. “My guess would be that you wanted to show me what a good person you are.”
“I suppose I can see how it might appear that way.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “Unfortunately, you’re wrong. I brought you out here to show you what a good person Ryan Baxter is.”
Carrie dropped her pen then scrambled after it. “I don’t understand. What does Ryan have to do with anything?”
Mr. Renfro cast a glance out the window at the happy chaos going on inside the barn. “Miss Collins, do you see that mare right over there, the black and white one?”
She followed the direction of his stare to see a magnificent horse plodding slowly in a circle with two laughing girls on her back. “Yes, I see her.”
“That’s Mercy and she’s a real prize. If I hadn’t been trying to outbid Ryan Baxter for that mare, I would never have come to really know Jesus. That prison minister gave me the head knowledge but Ryan, well, I guess you could say he gave me the heart knowledge. Now that’s the real story. I dare you to tell that one to your readers.”
Carrie gripped her pen and formulated her question. “So you’re saying that Ryan Baxter and a horse called Mercy caused you to find your faith? Would you mind elaborating?”
Mr. Renfro chuckled. “It would be my pleasure.” He laced his hands behind his head and leaned back again. “It all started four years ago during the horse auctions at the rodeo. I had my heart set on that little filly. Saw her early on and knew I’d be taking her home. So I’m sitting there all confident just waiting for her number to come up. Time comes to bid and I figure it’s a done deal. Next thing you know I
CHAPTER NINE
“Do you have a preference?” Carrie balanced the notepad on her knees, her pen poised inches from the page. Her attention, however, was focused on the corporate executive on the other side of the desk.
Her reporter’s eye went from the owner of the office to the details of the space. Other than the children’s art, the lone framed item in the room sat directly behind Mr. Renfro. It was a page from a book. Upon closer inspection she noted that the book from which this yellowed page came was a King James Bible.
“No,” Mr. Renfro said without the slightest hesitation. “Within limits, my life is an open book, some chapters better than others.” He paused and seemed to be assessing her. “But then if you’re any good as a reporter, you know all about the bad chapters. So why don’t you start by telling me what you know?”
Carrie leveled an even stare at her host. “Born in Brooklyn, raised in New Jersey. Married. One son, two daughters,” she recited from memory. “Influence peddling, stock manipulation, and a half-dozen white collar crimes that added up to a stint in a minimum security prison back East. How am I doing?”
“All true so far.” He smiled. “Is that all you’ve got?”
She shook her head. “Born again after a visit from a prison minister. Left prison to start a company that eventually became Camex. Gives large but unsubstantiated donations to Christian charities.” She paused. “Did I miss anything?”
He leaned back and the big leather chair groaned in protest. Swiveling to stare out the window at the merry scene unfolding beyond the glass, Mr. Renfro seemed to be deep in thought. Finally he whirled back around and leaned forward. Amusement danced in his dark eyes.
“Did you miss anything?” Her host asked the question with a contemplative tone, as if he too were wondering. “Miss Collins, if I may say so, you’ve researched me quite well.”
“Thank you.”
“As to whether you missed anything, if I might be so bold, I think you missed the most important thing.” Mr. Renfro shrugged. “Haven’t you wondered why I brought you all the way out to Wimberly today?”
Good question. Carrie pondered the possibilities. “My guess would be that you wanted to show me what a good person you are.”
“I suppose I can see how it might appear that way.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “Unfortunately, you’re wrong. I brought you out here to show you what a good person Ryan Baxter is.”
Carrie dropped her pen then scrambled after it. “I don’t understand. What does Ryan have to do with anything?”
Mr. Renfro cast a glance out the window at the happy chaos going on inside the barn. “Miss Collins, do you see that mare right over there, the black and white one?”
She followed the direction of his stare to see a magnificent horse plodding slowly in a circle with two laughing girls on her back. “Yes, I see her.”
“That’s Mercy and she’s a real prize. If I hadn’t been trying to outbid Ryan Baxter for that mare, I would never have come to really know Jesus. That prison minister gave me the head knowledge but Ryan, well, I guess you could say he gave me the heart knowledge. Now that’s the real story. I dare you to tell that one to your readers.”
Carrie gripped her pen and formulated her question. “So you’re saying that Ryan Baxter and a horse called Mercy caused you to find your faith? Would you mind elaborating?”
Mr. Renfro chuckled. “It would be my pleasure.” He laced his hands behind his head and leaned back again. “It all started four years ago during the horse auctions at the rodeo. I had my heart set on that little filly. Saw her early on and knew I’d be taking her home. So I’m sitting there all confident just waiting for her number to come up. Time comes to bid and I figure it’s a done deal. Next thing you know I
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