by Jessica Berg
The trees cleared, and the trail opened to a vast meadow tucked away between a set of triplet mountain ranges. Her father had always said this is what Heaven would be like. Maybe in the spring, but the summer had already taken its toll. The sun-burned grass cracked under Scout’s hooves.
“Let’s ride.” She gave a whoop, nudged Scout’s side, gave him some reign, and sprinted across the plain, Dominick at her side. After a couple of miles, they came to a halt. Even though Scout’s sides heaved under her, he danced, wanting more. He and her father had ridden for hours, sometimes for work, sometimes for the sheer joy of the ride.
“That’s enough for today.” She patted his neck, slipped off the saddle, allowed the reins to trail in the dirt. Scout would stick with her.
Her footfalls fluffed up the dirt in tiny clouds, and like the little engine who could, her father’s favorite story, she chugged up a grassy knoll, to a marble tombstone. Grass had grown over her father’s grave. Wilted and brown, it still covered the fresh dirt piled on his casket. It could no longer stare at her, mocking her with the blackness of death. The dash between Jeremiah Wallace’s birth date and death date was all too short for the amount of life he’d lived. It didn’t reflect the piggyback rides he’d given her, the times he’d shown her how to ride, the times he’d laughed with her, cried with her, threatened to shoot wayward boyfriends for her.
She curled into Dominick’s waiting arms and wept. He crooned words in her ear, smoothed her hair, took her sorrow into himself. Her shaking evaporated into tremors, her tears transformed to hiccups. Seeming to sense her need to be alone, he kissed her forehead and walked back to the horses.
She trailed a finger along the top of the gray stone, left rough to symbolize the rough exterior of the man beneath it. “This is weird, and you can’t hear me, but part of me hopes you can.” The lump in her throat grew. She fought past it. “Phoebe avenged you. Figured you’d like to know. Hit him with a tree branch and drop-kicked his face in the dirt.” A burble of laughter eked past the lump. “Yeah, I was surprised too. So, yeah, justice has been served, but it still hurts. Horribly.”
A horse knickered behind her. “Scout says hi. I took him for a ride today. He needed to get out and about. Threatened to sell Eeyore to the glue factory.” Breathe in for four, out for four. “I’m going to marry Dominick. He hasn’t asked yet, but I know what my answer will be. You’d approve of him. I’m hoping he punches Kevin before we leave. Like you threatened to do several times.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I will. I promise.” She kissed her fingertips and whispered them across his name. “Love you, Dad.”
Turning her back to the mountains, she wilted into Dominick’s arms, content in the realization that she didn’t leave her father behind, she carried him with her.
Chapter 25
Dominick winced as his feet hit the ground. Muted the groan of pain.
“Someone a little saddle sore?” Grace swung from Scout’s saddle, landing gracefully on her feet.
“If someone is a little sore, it’s because a certain someone decided to show off all the land her family owned.” He unclasped the girth and slid the saddle from Lightning’s back, hoisting the heavy leather over a saddle rack. “Not that I’m complaining. You have a pretty piece of country, that’s for sure.”
Grace did the same for Scout, grabbed two brushes, tossed one to him. “I’m glad you liked it.” She swiped the brush over Scout’s back. “My mom is going to sell the place … I’d like the buy it.”
His heart stopped. Was this how she was going to break up with him? It’d be easy. A simple, “Hey, I’m going to move hundreds of miles away, start ranching, no time for you,” would be a clean break. Except for his heart. It would be left in jagged pieces. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, whatever you think is right for you.”
“Do you think I should?”
Of all the questions she could have asked him, this is the one he feared. He knew she should. She was this place. This place was her. He’d never seen her eyes shine as bright, her smile as big. But he couldn’t tell her that. She’d never come back to Beacon. He opened his mouth to lie, but couldn’t do that either. He waited in silence for her to answer her own question.
He started when her hand slid over his arm, the gauze scraping at his arm hair. At the memory of her laying, bleeding, unconscious, her face flecked with tiny knife marks, his stomach churned. He couldn’t let her walk out, not now, not after proclamations of love, not after giving his heart to her, not after almost losing her. Pulling her to him, he murmured in her hair, “Every part of me wants to tell you to buy the place, reign as the rightful queen over your dominion, but I’m selfish, Grace. I can’t. I want you with me.”
“That doesn’t make you selfish. If anyone is selfish, it’s me.” Her quick hand motion silenced him. “It’s selfish of me to leave a new business, to leave Phoebe all to have a past I can never have back again. It’s a pipe dream. This place isn’t me anymore. It’s part of me, it raised me, made me who I am, but it’s not me.”
“But you still want to buy it.” It was more a statement than a question. He’d seen her determination.
“Yes.” She cradled his cheek in her hand. “I have an idea.” With a quick peck on the lips, she dashed out. “Oh, could you put the horses in the corral? I’ve got to talk to Phoebe.”
He shook his head when she vanished from sight. “Well, there she goes.” He finished brushing both horses, hung up the blankets and bridles, and led them to the corral gate. “See you later, you two.” Without so much as a thank you, they trotted off. “Rude,” he mumbled, latching the gate closed.
“Have a good ride?”
Dominick had sensed a collision with Kevin before the end of the trip but hadn’t anticipated the man in question would make the first move. He went into combat mode, emotions shutting off, his vision clearing, his muscles tensing. “No complaints.”
“Ah, that was always my problem too. Nothing spectacular, but nothing to complain about either. Beige.” Kevin flicked a piece a straw from his shirt.
“In my experience, it’s not the color’s fault, but the painter’s. Some artists aren’t good enough to make the colors vivid and full of life.” Dominick took a step closer, narrowing his eyes on his target. “But then again, artists who talk about their work have always pissed me off, anyway.” Another step closer. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I don’t know—”
“Let me explain. And I’ll be clear. Grace is not simply a color. She is most definitely not beige. And her name is never to cross your lips again.”
“But—”
“Here, I thought you were intelligent. My mistake. Never. Speak. Her. Name. Again.”
“She’s my wife.”
“Ex.” Dominick cocked his head. Took another step. “Your lack of intelligence worries me. Did you not sign the divorce papers? Did you not betray her trust in every way? You have no claim on her anymore. She is not yours.”
Kevin shrugged. “I can find a better ride somewhere else. Better you than me, bud.”
Anger deep inside Dominick rattled against its chains. He let it loose. He wasn’t sure who was more stunned when his fist crunched into Kevin’s nose. Probably Kevin as he wilted to the floor, cradling his bleeding nose.
“You broke it.”
“Possible. I recommend some ice.” He grabbed the nearest thing to a rag and flung it at Kevin’s feet. “Even though I doubt your intelligence, you would be smart to leave immediately. I’m sure Delilah will mail whatever you brought. Or Grace can burn them. Doesn’t matter to me.”
He left the barn to the tune of a grown man’s snivels. His lips ticked up in a half-smile.
“Where have you been?” Grace latched on to his hand, pulled him down for a kiss, paused. Her eyes narrowed. “What have you done?”
As if on cue, Kevin stumbled to his Camaro, still holding his nose, and peeled out of the driveway. Dominick cracked his knuckles
, winced. “Nothing that didn’t need doing.” Before he could expand on the event, she smashed her lips to his. Still breathless after she finished with him, he panted into her hair. “What was that for?”
“For doing something that should have been done a long, long time ago.” She kissed his hand, where a slight bruise welled on the surface. “Come on, let’s explain to my mother why her golden ex-son-in-law won’t be joining us for supper.”
“I’m never going to be that, am I? Her golden boy?”
“I should hope not.” Before she opened the door, she danced her fingers from the button of his jeans to the dip between his collar bone. “I would prefer a black sheep of a son-in-law.” She pecked his cheek. “You should get on that, by the way.” She waltzed away, calling to her mother to remove a place setting, leaving him in shock, awe, and a hell of a lot more in love with her than ever before.
***
“I’m going to be sick.” Phoebe wilted onto a chaise lounge in the front parlor.
Grace fussed with a flower arrangement that would not obey. “Don’t be dumb. You can’t be sick on grand opening day.”
“Who says?” Phoebe whined, her fingers flicking at a gold-braided tassel.
“I say. And common sense. And I say.”
“You mentioned yourself twice.”
“I know I did.” Grace snapped, plucked the disobedient sunflower from the vase and tossed it at Mrs. Sloucombe, who batted it with her paw and bit it. “Stupid cat.”
“Annie did offer to take her.”
“I’m still considering it.” Grace eyed the arrangement, gave one last fluffing motion, and set it next to a Victorian-style Tiffany lamp. Her phone alarm beeped. Butterflies in her stomach took up a flutter. “This is it. T minus one hour.”
For the next five minutes, Phoebe burst into a blur of activity. Dancing here, rushing there, primping at every mirror she passed.
“You need to settle down. You are making me dizzy.” Grace scanned the appointment book. All their guest rooms were reserved, the first of the guests to arrive in five hours. A giant batch of potato soup simmered on the stove, and a freshly baked batch of bread awaited the weary travelers. They’d leave the next morning with bellies full of scones and an assortment of teas or coffee.
In fifty-five minutes, Beaconites would show up, drink some champagne, nibble on tiny hors d’oeuvres, snoop around the premises, and hopefully tell all their friends about the new bed-and-breakfast. Nerves had her fingers drumming a tattoo on the polished wooden top of the front desk.
“Hey there.” Dominick’s voice tamed her nervous butterflies, leaving room for the love ones to dance an Irish jig.
“Hey, yourself. You’re early.” She wrapped her arms around him, taking solace in how he folded her to him. His heartbeat echoed in her ear, luring her to snuggle deeper into his pectoral muscle. A nicely-defined pectoral muscle.
“Come with me.” He entwined his fingers through hers, made easier now with no gauze. Well-healed scars remained, would always remain, a reminder to her of not fear and hatred, but the love of a sister who saved her.
It had been two weeks since returning from Colorado, and in those two weeks, she’d been buried in business and grand openings and a wild idea that might implode in her face. But for now, all that mattered was his hand in hers.
“You look amazing.” He spun her around as they gained the center of the gazebo.
“You do too.” He looked delicious in his dark jeans and green and white checkered button-up, the top two buttons undone. His hair, not styled by little Lilly fingers, was carelessly tousled, giving the illusion he’d just crawled from bed. Her cheeks burned.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“Oh, they’d cost you a lot more than a penny.”
“I’m willing to pay.” He played his fingers across her bare shoulder, where the cut of her cold-shoulder top left her skin exposed.
She playfully swatted his hand away, stepped to the railing, leaned against it. “Phoebe’s all in a tizzy. Thanks for helping me escape.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No, everything’s done. Just anticipation now.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “And nerves.” Took a breath. “I bought the ranch.”
He blinked. “I thought—”
“I’m not leaving here. Mom came through in the end, sold it at a fair price.” She fiddled with his shirt collar. “I’ve got an excellent foreman to look after the place, and eventually, I want to make it into a safe haven for kids. Where they can go and be kids, get dirty, get in tune with nature. I bought it with the life insurance payout. My dad would have loved the ranch crawling with kiddos. Name it ‘Jeremiah House’ or something like that.”
“You never cease to amaze me.” He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“You’ll never get bored. That’s a plus.” She circled a finger around one of the buttonholes on his shirt. “Speaking of little kids, where’s my little helper?”
“Ah, yes, Lilly is getting all dolled up with Annie’s help. They even went shopping for the occasion. She wanted to surprise you with a new dress.”
“I can’t wait to see it.” She couldn’t wait to give Lilly the old doll she’d found in the attic. All cleaned and repaired with a new dress, the doll had transformed into a porcelain beauty just waiting for the arms of a new little girl who would give her a name, love her. Her stomach churned. She had been that doll, used, cast aside, eaten by the ghosts of the past. But now … she twisted from his arms, clutched the railing, faced the woods where a ghost from her past failed to destroy her. “I promised her a cupcake and got some white grape juice for her champagne.” She hated that her voice cracked.
He folded his arms around her, his hands relaxing against her stomach, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head. “She adores you.” He turned her, tucked her hands in his, held them to his chest. “As do I.” He slipped to one knee.
His face blurred as tears pooled in her eyes. He thumbed one away. “Grace, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife. I know it’s fast, and I apologize if it’s too soon, and if you want to wait, I get it. I can’t imagine my life without you, don’t want to imagine my life without you. But if you don’t—”
She dropped to her knees, squished his face between her palms. “Shhh. Silly man, I love you. Now, show me the ring before I say yes.”
He grinned and pulled a ring box from his back pocket, opened it.
“I would have said yes if you pulled out one of those plastic bubble candy machine rings. But, this”— she played a finger over the princess-cut solitaire diamond entwined in rose gold winking in the sunlight— “equals a yes and…” She fell into his arms, kissed him until they fell to the gazebo floor, a mass of entwined limbs.
Dominick came to his senses first, his fingers shaking as he buttoned some buttons Grace may or may not have ripped open. “Remind me to propose to you every day.”
“You can’t afford to.” Grace readjusted her hair, patting the strays back into place.
“You just said you’d go for the twenty-five cent kind.”
“Darn. Spoke too quickly.” Her voice faded to a whisper as he slipped the ring on her finger.
“Say we can marry tomorrow. Right here. And I can take you away and—”
“Grace!”
Dominick cursed. “Your sister has horrible timing.”
“Tell me about it.” She struggled to her feet, waved a finger at Phoebe. “Over here.”
“Finally. I’ve been looking all over for you. Where have you—” Her gaze slid to Dominick still reclining on the floor and back to Grace. “I see, well, I’ll leave you two to it.”
Grace caught Phoebe’s arm. “No, you don’t see.” She stuck her finger in Phoebe’s face.
A squeal, a booty shake, and another squeal all led to the finale: a bone-crushing hug. After crunching Grace’s ribs, she hurled herself at Dominick, taking his face between her hands. “You’ve seen what I can do t
o anyone who hurts my Grace, right?” She grinned, planted a kiss on his forehead. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to threaten you to propose. Good to know I didn’t need to succumb to evil methods.”
He pried her hands off his face. “That would have been interesting.”
“You can see me use them on Noah.”
Only Grace heard the muttered, “Poor man.”
“Well, we have less than half an hour.” She flicked at Grace’s hair. “And somebody needs to be re-ready.” With a backward glance, she smirked. “In ten minutes I will come back out here if you’re not back in time. Just a fair warning.”
Alone again, Dominick tilted Grace’s face, fastened those chocolatey depths on her. “I believe I will take up all those minutes if you don’t mind, future Mrs. Grace Carson.”
“Better make it worth my while.”
And he did. With one kiss, he stoked her inner fire, erased her worries, and brought her home.
Epilogue
June 2018
“Read me another story, Mommy.”
Grace swallowed against the tears. She’d waited for years to hear those words, have those chubby little arms around her neck, hugging the life out of her. “One more.”
Lilly snuggled back into her bed, held Mr. Bear to her chest. “Daddy says I’m lucky to have two mommies. My friend, Hadley, only gets one.”
Grace snuck a glance at Lilly’s bedside table. Next to the picture of Carmen, Dominick and Grace, captured in their wedding finery, smiled at the now five-year-old girl. “Yes, you have two mommies who love you so much.” Before her tears could escape, she opened Goodnight Moon, and before she finished the last page, Lilly snored the soft snore of the innocent. Grace leaned over, kissed the blonde head, closed her eyes.
A warm hand rubbed her shoulder. “You’ve managed to put the minion to bed.”
“Only six books tonight.”
“By the time she starts the fifth grade, we’ll have her negotiated to one.” Dominick brushed aside her hair, kissed the back of her neck.