Falling For Grace

by Janet W. Ferguson

  Lightning sliced the air, and thunder cracked, loudly this time. Grace squealed as fat raindrops poured from the clouds, slapping their faces and arms.

  “Run!” Seth placed a hand on the small of her back and led her at a jog across the brick sidewalk, despite the ache still throbbing in his foot. Please don’t let Grace bite the dust, Lord.

  They reached his deck, and he opened the door, offering her first entry. “Careful on the tile.” One of his next projects would be to lay hardwood instead of the slippery ceramic floors. Whoever had done the interior design for the beach house must not have ever walked around with wet feet on this stuff.

  Thankfully, Grace didn’t seem to have any trouble. So far. He shut the door and followed her footsteps. Maybe too closely. He slid on the water dripping from her, and his foot darted out from under him, leaving him on the floor, contorted worse than if he’d been in a game of Twister gone wrong. Pain ripped through his foot when he fumbled to stand. “Ow—oh—” Some choice words fumbled toward his lips that didn’t need to come out of a Christian man’s mouth. “Oh, fiddlesticks!”

  He’d never broken a bone, but there was no ignoring the throbbing agony on the right side of his foot. He needed to get himself to a doctor.

  Chapter 8

  That had to hurt.

  Grace’s heart flipped in her chest as she knelt beside Seth. With a groan, he’d removed his shoe. A line of purple already ran along the outer edge of his foot, and it had begun to swell. “Where are your keys? We need to get you to an emergency room for x-rays.”

  “There’s a rack.” The words came clipped from between clenched teeth. “On the way to the garage. We’ll pass it.”

  “When you’re ready, lean on me, and I’ll help you get there.” Cautious, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “You don’t have to. I can...” He glanced around as if seeking other options.

  Maybe he didn’t want her to take him. “Is your family down here?”

  He shook his head. “They’re in San Diego for a grand opening.”

  “Then I’m taking you, unless you want me to call an ambulance.” She still held her phone but had set aside her computer bag and her purse when he’d fallen. She slung her purse back over her shoulder.

  “No ambulance.” His eyes squeezed closed.

  “While you get mentally prepared to move, I’ll find the keys and an icepack. Maybe a towel or pillow to prop it up.” She stood, glancing around the house. “Your wallet with the insurance info?”

  “Wallet by my bed. It’s down the hall off the kitchen, first door you come to. Pillow there. Icepack in freezer.” Each sentence was clipped out with obvious pain.

  “I’ll get everything.” She stopped in the kitchen, grabbed an icepack, then followed a short hall to the master bedroom. If circumstances and weather had been different, she would’ve been wowed by the wall of windows that allowed a spectacular view of the beach. The wallet lay right where he’d described, but beneath it lay a turned-down picture frame. She picked up the wallet, but curiosity held her fingers over the picture.

  What was she thinking? Whatever the frame held was none of her business, and this was an emergency.

  She grabbed a pillow from the bed and jogged through the kitchen to a door with a rack neatly holding a multitude of labeled keys. The Nissan Titan keys had a gold ring with a metal tag that had Gibbs Hardware inscribed across it.

  She opened the door to the garage and gawked. Every square inch of wall held racks and shelves lined with tools, saws, equipment, and wood. Even some scrap metal.

  Go. She didn’t have time for this. She placed the pillow and icepack on the far side of the back seat. Seth could lie there with his foot propped up. His wallet and her phone she threw on the passenger seat, and then she turned toward the house.

  “I’m almost there.” Seth had literally crawled to meet her. He rose on his knees at the doorframe. “I need help standing to get in the truck though.”

  “I’ve got you.” She snaked a hold around his waist. “Put your arm over my shoulder.”

  His hand rested on her back, but he hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t need to go get someone next door? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  The tenderness in his voice, considering his current state of pain, melted her heart. Most people would be irritable and snippy in this situation. Well, Trevor would’ve been, anyway. “I’m stronger than I look. And despite many tumbles, I’ve never broken, dislocated, torn, or sprained anything.” She tried to sound reassuring. “My mother swears I’m made of rubber and springs. Like Tigger.”

  “Okay, Tigger, if you’re sure.” A sort-of smile lifted his lips, and he leaned his weight into her, using his good leg to stand. They shuffled down the stoop, and he stopped. “If I hold your arm, I think I can hop on one foot to the truck.”

  “Won’t that—?”

  His hand slid to her bicep, and he hopped, then sucked in a breath. “Hopping hurts. It jolts. Was that what you were going to say?”

  “Maybe. I set up a pillow and ice in the back seat. We’re close.”

  “I’ll make it.” With a couple more steps leaning against her, his jaw tight, he reached the truck door. Allowing room for it to open proved tricky, but finally, he sat and swung his legs onto the seat.

  “I’ll go to the other side, prop your foot, and place the ice.” She shut him in and jogged around.

  He’d removed his other shoe, and his feet already rested on the pillow. Thankfully the icepack had a cover on it, so they didn’t need a towel. She stared at the bruising on the outside of his foot.

  “I know, I know. I should’ve gotten a pedicure, right.” Seth wiggled his good foot, obviously trying to relieve the tension. “If only I’d known a pretty girl would be checking out my feet.”

  “I’m not...” Oh, goodness, he was funny and cute even when he was injured. She met his gaze. “I don’t know how to put on the ice without hurting you.”

  “Maybe, lift my leg and put the pack under my foot. It’s pliable. We sell them at our stores.”

  Her lips twitched at his mention of their family business. “Your stores?”

  “Gibbs Hardware. Maybe you’ve heard of them?” He shrugged. “And I’m pretty sure Brooklyn or Mac told you. Don’t play poker, lady. You have a tell.”

  “What tell?” Gingerly, she lifted his calf and slid the icepack beneath.

  “Your lips twitch when you lie.”

  “Lie? I haven’t lied. If anyone did, it would be you.” She set his foot down.

  A groan slipped from Seth, and he grimaced.

  “Oh, sorry.” Her heart skittered, and her every muscle froze. “I didn’t mean to.”

  Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. “Call a dying man a liar? That’s brutal.”

  Was he joking to make her feel better when she’d actually hurt him or messing with her because the injury wasn’t that bad? She had no time to wrestle with insecurity. They needed to get on the road.

  “You’re not dying on my watch.” Grace shut the door, careful to make sure she didn’t do worse damage.

  THE THROBBING CONTINUED in Seth’s foot. It felt like a lumberjack was taking a mallet to it over and over, sending shivers up his spine. Who knew his body could hurt this badly?

  Grace did well getting them to the emergency room entrance with the GPS, considering the blinding rain the entire way there. Once she pulled into the drive, she asked for a wheelchair and rolled him in, then parked the truck.

  Two minutes later, she’d jogged back to him. Despite his pain, he drank in the sight of her, damp hair clinging to her cheeks and forehead. Oh, and those huge blue eyes. She disappeared behind the wheelchair and pushed him forward. Inside, a friendly police officer greeted them. Despite a recent surge of flu in the community, no one else was around. They checked in and waited in the freezing cold area. More shivers ran down his arms.

  “You’re shaking.” Worry furrowed Grace’s brows. “You might be going into shock.”
>
  Was he? How would he know?

  “I’ll get help. Be right back.” She squeezed his hand and stepped away. If he had to be at a hospital, at least having someone with him made the experience tolerable.

  She returned with a nurse beside her. “Here we are.” Her mouth twisted with concern.

  The nurse looked him over and checked his pulse. “We’ll get you into an exam room and give you something for the pain right away.”

  “Should I go with you or wait here?” Grace caught her lip between her teeth. “I don’t want to be in your personal business.”

  “There’s nothing secretive about my foot, now that you’ve seen my need for a pedicure.”

  A smile replaced the worried expression. “True.”

  The nurse pushed him down the hall, one left turn, and they entered a room. An orderly joined them, and while he assisted Seth to the bed covered with blue sheets, the nurse asked one question after another.

  “No Ebola. No flu. No smoking. No surgeries.” His legs sat horizontally in front of him, while his back rested against the inclined bed. Another tremor racked his frame. “How about a blanket?” He stretched his mouth into the best, totally fake, smile he could conjure.

  “We’ll get you one. A doctor and a radiology tech will be here shortly.” She scooted out the door.

  Cautiously, Grace moved to his bedside. Her hand hovered a moment. Then, she reached out and ran soft fingers across Seth’s forehead. “I wish she’d hurry so you could feel better.”

  His breathing shuddered but not from the injury. Warmth radiated through him at her touch. “I don’t think I’m acute enough for the stat medical service like they show on TV.” He reached up to clasp her hand. “Thanks for being kind to me.” Those navy eyes could distract him from almost any pain.

  Meeting his gaze, a tender smile floated across Grace’s lips. “You’re easy to be kind to.”

  A man wearing blue scrubs wheeled in a large white machine. “I’m here to do your x-ray.”

  “Interesting. It’s portable.” Seth took in the unit, temporarily breaking his meditation on the sweet woman beside him.

  Grace laughed. “You love the gadgets, don’t you?”

  “Won’t deny it.” He shot her a smile while complying with the tech’s instructions. “Should she leave the room? Radiation and all?”

  The tech gave a half-nod. “It’s low exposure, but it couldn’t hurt.”

  “I’ll go get a cup of coffee and that blanket they promised.” Grace made a quick exit.

  Minutes later, she reentered, a coffee aroma trailing her. A blanket lay over one arm while she held a cup in each hand. “I poured two, but I wasn’t sure if you could have any. I mean I hope you don’t need surgery.”

  A tall man in a white coat entered behind her. “He deserves a drink. I’m Dr. Hoge.” With a firm grip, the doctor shook Seth’s hand. “You’ve got an impressive couple of breaks. The question is, how good of a patient can you be?” He shot a look at Seth then pivoted toward Grace, as if she might know.

  The doctor must’ve assumed they were a couple. Seth needed to save her the awkwardness. “My options, either way?”

  Dr. Hoge’s gaze returned to Seth. “If I put you in a cast or boot, I’m going to want you to stay off this foot. No weight bearing for four weeks. The cast provides more protection if you don’t think you can be really careful. Either way, if you don’t keep your weight off of it, you’ll probably need surgery.” His brows contracted. “Like pins and rods to keep it in place. Not fun.”

  “I’ll take the cast.” He’d be careful. The last thing he wanted was surgery. The words pins and rods, while interesting gadgets, didn’t appeal to him when applied to a foot. His foot.

  “And you’ll need to keep the leg propped up a few days, and after that, use your crutches religiously. No driving.” His attention returned to Grace. “He’ll need someone to assist him.”

  She nodded. “I’ll watch him like a hawk.”

  Oh, for goodness’ sake. They’d put her on the spot. Once the doctor left, Seth pushed up on his elbows. “Grace, you don’t have to be my babysitter.”

  “I’m actually a fabulous babysitter, but my services won’t be free.” Her lips twitched. “It’ll cost you coffee, internet, and tool-man advice.”

  Seth’s heart puddled. Grace was such a woman of...well, grace.

  Chapter 9

  “The waiting is always the hardest part.” Grace tapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. Why did she say such stupid things? “Except for the pain you’re going through. That’s worse, of course. Sorry. I’m so crazy.”

  “Not crazy. The waiting does stink. And the painkiller kicked in, so the ache in my foot is better.” Seth’s easy smile showed off his straight white teeth.

  The cutest little cleft in his chin captured her attention. Though it shouldn’t. He’d made it clear that he couldn’t be more than friends. She didn’t know why, but it wasn’t her business. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. If you want to go to sleep while we wait for the cast, I can step out and make a couple of phone calls.”

  “You can do that here. I’m not tired.” His heavy eyelids suggested otherwise.

  “Actually, most of it can be handled via text.” Her fingers flew across her phone. She’d become quite the expert while working for Brooklyn.

  “I bet when you type on a keyboard, your hands are a blur.” His voice held a tease.

  Though she was dying to see the accompanying expression, she didn’t dare look at him. “Maybe.” She kept her eyes glued to her phone.

  When she’d completed the texts, she checked her email. Again. Nothing new. Social media might distract her for another minute or two. One click on the icon, and pictures filled the screen. One particular post hit her like a slap across the face, and she sucked in a breath. “No. They. Are. Not.” The words escaped in a pained whisper.

  That explained the sudden Caribbean marriage.

  “Grace? What’s wrong?” Seth sat taller in the bed and leaned toward her.

  “It’s nothing.” But thick tears blurred her vision. The ransacking of her heart was complete. Grace deleted Trevor and Alexa from her friend list. She should’ve deleted and blocked them a long time ago.

  “It’s obviously not nothing.” His voice softened. “You can tell me. I mean, unless you don’t want me to know.”

  “It’s not a secret, but I hate to be a downer.” And bring up her ex again.

  “Because nothing that’s happened so far has been a bummer, right?”

  Grace couldn’t help but laugh. “Right. Keep things upbeat, like waiting on a cast for broken bones.”

  “Exactly.” Lines crinkled the corners of his eyes. “So, talk about anything you want. Including what’s upsetting you.”

  “My ex shared a picture of a sonogram, with his new wife, the one who used to be my best friend.” Good. She’d kept her voice strong. Her gaze left her screen to take a peek at Seth.

  All signs of his former smile had been erased. In fact, the taut line of his lips and set of his jaw looked as though an enemy had just spit in his face.

  Puffing out a quick exhale, Grace smiled hoping to cut the tension. “It’s nothing that should really affect me.” That ship had sailed when Trevor had left her.

  “Did y’all try to have children?” Eyes downcast, he shook his head and held up his palm. “Sorry. None of my business. And I assumed you don’t have any, but I could be wrong about that too.”

  “We didn’t. I don’t.” Her throat clogged with raw emotion. “We met in college, typical story, and we had this five-year plan for after we married.” Or maybe Trevor had come up with the plan. “While he finished his master’s and built his career, I would work. Then after five years, we’d start trying, and I could stay home with...” She swallowed hard at the thickness in her throat. “You know. Anyway, I guess he still had a plan, just not with me.” And that ripped an enormous hole in her self-confidence. What was wrong with her? So w
rong that he had to find fulfillment with another woman? Her eyes burned again, despite her attempts to keep her emotions in check.

  “Grace.” Seth’s voice came out husky. “He’s an idiot to lose you.”

  A BALL OF INTENSE ANGER pitted in Seth’s gut. Although they’d never met, this Trevor guy sounded like a jerk. And Grace’s best friend? Didn’t those people realize how blasting their news on social media would humiliate sweet Grace? She deserved better.

  Better than Seth Gibbs, too, no doubt. He’d been too focused on his career to pay attention to the nice girls his friends introduced him to in his early twenties. Meeting Selina at a tradeshow had taken him off guard. She’d been more career-minded than he was.

  He shook off thoughts of Selina and focused on Grace again. “You wanted to be a stay-at-home mom?”

  Despite being rimmed with tears, her navy eyes lit up. “I know not everyone understands that choice, but ever since I was a kid with a baby doll and a kitten playing house, I’ve always wanted to be a mother, homeschool kids, cook, clean, organize—all that fun stuff.”

  “You mean you always wanted to clean?” Despite the squeezing of his heart, Seth chuckled. “You are a non-conformist.”

  “You mean misfit weirdo?”

  He shook his head. “No way. I like a clean store, a clean house. And I appreciate organization.”

  “Your garage looked like there was a place for everything, and everything was in its place.”

  “I think my dad has something to that effect on a plaque at every single store in the country. Or maybe my mom tattooed it on my arm.” He lifted his sleeve and pretended to check his bicep. The conversation had its light points, but he might as well plow into the place he’d rather avoid. “How many kids do you want?”