She froze like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. What could she say? That Trevor tongue fucked her out in the field and that Conner finished her off over a mound of prickly hay?
“Good,” she muttered without looking him in the eyes.
“There’s a phone message for you in the kitchen. Cordless is on the counter.”
“Ken?”
He nodded in a bad-news sort of way and retreated to the living room.
She sat on a stool at the kitchen island, the large room empty and sparkling clean. Her voice echoed when she spoke into the receiver.
“Ken, it’s me. You called?”
“Yeah, I called. Mrs. Duncan called the house this morning, and one of the workers said you haven’t been spending time with Mr. Wagner, but were off taking in the sights. This isn’t a vacation, Grace. It’s business, and you better get with the fucking program. That’s all I need. This bitch finding some reason to scrap the deal. Is that what you want?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m here, ain’t I?”
“You wanna get smart with me, do you?”
She could see him grinding his teeth at the other end of the country when she closed her eyes. “What?”
“Just do as you’re told and be a good girl for your new hubby there. If he wants you to open your legs, open them wide. You think I’m having fun playing with this nasty old prune? If I’m going to suffer, so are you.”
“Is that it?” She barely managed to say those words. Her stomach was clenched so tight that she thought she’d be sick. There was no arguing with Ken. He’d beat her down if she tried, and he knew how to hurt her, his best skill in this life.
“See you in a month.” The phone line went dead.
Yes, she hated her husband, but right now, all she wanted to do was go cry in her room. She shouldn’t be allowed to feel betrayal after what she just did in the barn, but she did. Ken still possessed the power to cut her, break her, and drive the life from her soul. Did she even do anything wrong when he practically ordered her to screw a stranger? It’s not like she would break his heart. He didn’t love her. Never had. It was all about joining the right families and looking good on paper. Love had nothing to do with marriage for Ken. But love meant everything to Grace, and it continued to elude her.
She slipped into the hall and down to her room, grateful for not running into Mr. Wagner with her emotions on her sleeve and the moisture in her eyes ready to spill over. Grace dove onto the bed and screamed into the pillow, which muffled most of the sound as she beat her fists into the mattress. Anger bloomed inside her. Anger for Ken putting her in this situation in the first place. Anger for feeling guilty for something that felt so good with the men. Anger for the direction her life had taken. She wasn’t a young chick anymore, and starting over didn’t come easy. It’s something she never considered. Accepting her lot in life, no matter how unfulfilling or miserable, was expected of her by Ken, her own family, society. Ugh, she just wanted to go numb.
A soft rapping at the door had her raising her head in a rush to dry her eyes.
“I’m coming in,” a woman said. Jenna.
She closed the door behind her and sat on the edge of the bed. Grace still lay on her stomach, with her face down. She couldn’t face anyone. When she cried, it never looked pretty like in the movies, all dramatic and sexy. She got red and mottled, and her eyes swelled.
Jenna didn’t question her, only sat still as she rubbed soft circles onto Grace’s back. It soothed the rage within her but ignited her despair. She wept, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do in front of a stranger. How pathetic.
“You want me to hunt down that husband of yours and cut off his balls?” she asked.
Grace couldn’t help it. She laughed. Jenna laughed. Grace kept laughing until she rolled to her back and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Who knew that one sentence could drive away her sadness and turn a stranger into a friend?
Chapter Seven
Grace slept until the sun went down. Stress, not to mention the earth-shattering orgasm she had earlier, had zapped the energy out of her. After showering, she sat on the chair near the window, towel-drying her hair. A few bruises had already formed on her hips, and her upper legs were all scratched from humping the hay bales.
As she thought back to her adventures with Conner with a sober mind, some important topics plagued her. But, her worries calmed after a quick mental rundown of the situation. She took her birth control pills regularly, and all the men on staff were cleared of STDs. Her current medical records were in the file Mr. Wagner had returned to her the day she arrived. When she had asked Jenna about it, she had said he was a real stickler for keeping up-to-date medical records on the staff with the doctor coming for blood and checkups every month. Apparently, he didn’t have much faith in his wife’s fidelity, and she understood why. The wife swap was Mrs. Wagner’s idea in the first place. Being the busy season, most of the workers didn’t even get a day off to go into town and bunked in the trailers around back. Maybe the reason they all looked at her like a piece of meat.
The knowledge came as a small consolation to her moment of temporary insanity. That’s what she called it because she didn’t know that Grace at all. The Grace she knew was shy, modest, and insecure. She would never do anything reckless or improper for the life of her.
Another knock on the door.
Jenna had said she would come to get her for dinner, but must have decided to let her sleep, and she appreciated the kindness. The power nap had done wonders for her, physically and mentally.
“Grace?”
Mr. Wagner cracked open the door. Something about seeing and hearing him put her at peace. His face kind, smile sultry, and voice deep. She sank into her chair and asked him to come in.
“Pete saved you a tray. It’s in the kitchen whenever you’re up to it.”
“I’ll have to thank him tomorrow.”
Mr. Wagner walked in, took a seat on the window bench, and tugged open the curtains. The night created a wall of blackness around the property that threatened to overtake if not for the spotlights highlighting the home and barns. So different from the day. Nothing moved now. Not men, nor animals. It was serene and lonely. Something about the night always made her think, reflect, and inevitably feel sorry for herself.
“I’m guessing things didn’t go over too well with Mr. Cartwright on the phone earlier?”
She shook her head. “No, not so good.”
“Don’t give him that much power over you. You are your own person, and this is your life to live. He has no right to make you unhappy. Every moment you spend worrying is a moment wasted, in my opinion.”
“Sometimes that’s easier said than done.” She smirked without humor. Advice was easy to give, not always easy to take.
“It’s a learned behavior. If you don’t allow yourself to worry, eventually it becomes a habit, then a lifestyle. You’ll be surprised how much our health reflects the amount we worry.”
She studied his face as he stared out into the darkness. His skin was tanned, thick with stubble. The only lines were at the corners of his eyes and a few on his forehead, which added to his appeal. “I guess that’s why you’ve aged so well.”
Silence. The mood in the room seemed to shift, and Grace connected to her contracted husband, almost enough to want to kiss him. But he abruptly stood and patted her knee.
“Like I said this morning. Break those bonds, and enjoy yourself while you’re here. Hopefully by the time you leave, being happy will be the lifestyle you choose.” He smiled, his eyes lazy as he strolled out of the room, leaving the door ajar.
* * * *
The next morning, Grace awoke early and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. The sun lit up the room with a refreshing natural light, and cheerful voices carried on a multitude of conversations. She made it between breakfast runs. One group was almost finished and would have to clear out soon for the next bunch of hungry men. Fewer t
han half the seats at the table were full, but she still felt awkward around so much testosterone. Then she spotted Jenna talking to Pete, and her tension eased.
“Good morning, stranger,” called Pete when he spotted her in the doorway. “Have a seat. I’ll have you fed in two seconds.” He waved his spatula in the air while monitoring the grill.
Before Grace finished eating in silence, the doors burst open, and some rowdy cowboys made their way to the table. At the same time, another presence entered from the main hallway, which she caught in her peripheral vision. At first she thought it was Mr. Wagner, but when she turned, she didn’t recognize him. Definitely not a farmhand. His skin only had a subtle tan, and he wore Hawaiian-print surfer shorts, a black T-shirt, and Nikes without socks.
He reminded her of a star quarterback, tall, broad shoulders, squared jaw, and classic good looks. His hair was similar to Trevor’s, the shaggy, unkempt look, except a dark brown version.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” said Trevor as he filed in with the other men. He spoke to the new guy, and Grace realized as she turned back and forth between them that she should be minding her own business. Not exactly easy with so many good-looking men surrounding her.
Trevor walked behind her, and as he passed, he flicked her hair playfully. He wasn’t dumb enough to give her a kiss in Mr. Wagner’s own home when she was playing his wife. But the act clearly signaled to the other men he had a stake on her. He took a seat at the end of the table, still eying the stranger. Grace wondered how much he knew about her and Conner, if anything.
“Where’s my dad?”
“Is that you, Scotty?” asked Pete, turning his attention to the new guy.
“Just needed to drop something off. I’m not staying, Pete.”
“Nonsense! Sit that skinny butt down so I can feed you, boy.”
Scot sighed. He must have known Pete well to know how insistent he could be, because he pulled out a chair next to Grace. She glanced at his forearm resting on the table. The boy was not skinny. Thick, hard arms and strong hands. She half expected him to introduce himself since she seemed to be a spectacle around the farm since she arrived. But he kept quiet and acted as if she were invisible.
“Still playing with your video games?” asked Trevor in a condescending tone.
“Programmer. I’m a computer programmer. I don’t play video games.” Scot kept his cool, but his words came out clipped. She sensed the hostility between the two men, something she recognized well because it was the same back home between her and Ken.
“Sounds gay to me,” Trevor muttered under his breath, and the other men choked back laughter. “You too afraid to get your pretty hands dirty working the land? You too good for a real man’s work?”
“Some of us have ambitions beyond horseshit.”
Trevor’s chair abruptly scraped the tiles. He stood tall and menacing, both palms planted on the table, for a few seconds before storming out of the house.
Pete brought Scot’s plate to the silent table.
“Don’t mind him, Scotty. I keep telling him it’s a foolish move antagonizing the boss’s son.”
“He’s more his son than I am.”
“You know that’s not true. Your dad wants to understand. He even ordered that computer,” said Pete, squeezing Scot’s shoulder.
“Yeah, and it’s still sitting on the floor in a box. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m just here to drop off some things.”
“Well, you’re welcome here anytime. Don’t forget that. Now eat up before it gets cold.”
Pete returned to the stove, and Grace was grateful that he didn’t try to introduce her. She wanted to be anywhere else than in the middle of some family drama that didn’t concern her.
As soon as the tension eased and some of the men began their chatter, she cleared her spot and took off out the back door, thankful for the escape. So, Mr. Wagner had at least one child. Before she had a chance to collect her thoughts, Trevor called her name from above in the hayloft
“What are you doing up there?”
“Come join me! Ladder’s in the barn.”
Grace found the rickety wooden ladder and climbed up one step at a time. A small square opening at the top awaited her. Dust from the hay spilling over the edges fell into her eyes and had her coughing by the time she pulled herself into the hayloft. Most of the side wall remained open, looking down below and letting the sun filter in. She could see cattle being rounded up and fields for miles.
“I was thinking we could bring a lunch with us this time,” said Trevor, still standing dangerously close to the edge of the opening.
“This time?”
“You don’t think you’ve seen all the sights already, do you? I have somewhere special to show you today.”
Grace stepped over the mess of hay in front of her and sat on the edge of the barn with her legs dangling over.
“You don’t like Mr. Wagner’s son much, do you?”
His expression told her he expected the question. “We’re just very different. He has everything I’ve always wanted but throws it away like nothing.” He moved to sit beside her. “Sometimes, life just ain’t fair.”
She could agree to that much. Although her curiosity demanded more information, she let it go. When his hand rested on her knee, all her previous thoughts vanished. Once again, she wondered how much he knew about her and Conner.
He whispered in her ear, “I missed you yesterday.”
The sound teased her, enticed her. Her previous tranquil demeanor turned into a need she knew too well. “I had to get to the house to make a call. Apparently my real husband is furious I haven’t screwed Mr. Wagner yet.”
“Yet? That ain’t gonna happen. Period.”
He fell backward onto the bed of hay, and Grace leaned to her side, hungry for more information. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean Mr. Wagner can’t exactly perform since the accident.”
Okay, he really needed to spill it. “Accident?”
“The year Mrs. Wagner was pregnant with Scot, Mr. Wagner got hurt bad in a rodeo. Got his manhood damn near mutilated.”
“So that’s why they only had the one kid? And—”
“And that’s why Mrs. Wagner is a stranger around here. Guess living a life of celibacy ain’t for her.”
Wow. She had no idea. That must have been why he hadn’t hit on her, but then again, he didn’t seem like the type regardless. Grace felt pity for him being such a good man thrust into horrible circumstances. It wasn’t his fault he had been injured, but he had lost his marriage because of it. He took it well, and now she understood why he didn’t try to stop his wife from screwing around with the farmhands or resisting the wife swap. Shitty things always seemed to happen to good people.
“Did you and Mrs. Wagner ever…you know?”
“Hell no. I only like my women young and sexy.”
He hooked her around the waist and pulled her on top of him. She squealed and giggled when he rolled over her, tickling her sides. Hay coated her shirt and the back of Trevor’s hair. It smelled like summer in the country. She closed her eyes and got lost in the carefree lust engulfing her.
“Mmmm, we better get going before I lose my manners.”
He pulled back and picked out bits of hay from her hair. His eyes shone so blue with the sunlight hitting them. Her desperation to kiss his beautiful face had her digging her nails into her fists. He was right. If they didn’t leave now, she would have let him do anything to her, even with the whole yard of workers looking on.
Was it this place or the fact she already crossed the line of no return yesterday? She only knew for certain that the timid, modest girl she once knew had grown up in a hurry and needed to make up for lost time.
Chapter Eight
Trevor spread out a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, right out of a children’s fable. He pulled some containers of food from his saddlebags. Pete had been sweet enough to set them up with a packed lunch for their day of explo
ring.
“Okay, this is chicken, this one is ham, and this one is…a mystery.” He shuffled through the containers and flopped down to his side on the grassy carpet.
Trevor had brought her to the most breathtaking place she could imagine. The waterfall wasn’t high, not even as tall as her, but wildflowers had sprung up everywhere. Such brilliant, vibrant colors. Some overgrown trees gave them welcome shade after the long trek by horseback.
Grace took a bite of her sandwich and watched some tiny birds bathing in the river flowing away from the falls.
“How long have you worked here?” she asked.
“I’ve been here since I was a kid. Fourteen. I was a runaway, and Wagner took me in and gave me a job.”
“You respect him, don’t you?”
“He’s the only real father I’ve ever had. I’d do anything for the man.”
He stood and pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his pants. She watched in fascination, wondering what he was up to.
“He’s the one that showed me this place. Perfect bathing pool on a hot day like today.”
With his last words, he kicked off his boots and his pants, leaving him in just white boxer briefs. What a body! She ached for him and hoped he’d turn his attention to her rather than to the water he approached.
She continued their conversation, speaking louder as he put distance between them. “So you must have grown up with Scot if you’ve been here that long.”
“Yeah. He only left this year.”
“Is that why you don’t get along, sibling rivalry?”
“Nothing like that.” He squatted, slipped into the water, and raised his shoulders stiffly once up to his waist.
No way would he get her to join him in the frigid water. She hated the cold with a passion. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”
“It’s good for the system. Refreshing. You should try it.” He waded through the water, splashing some up his arms.
“I’m not into self-torture. Thanks anyway.”
Grace lay back on the tablecloth and stared up at the sky, Robin’s egg blue with passing clouds resembling perfect cotton balls. She tried to discover shapes as the gentle wind hurried them along. She eased, becoming one with the nature around her. This would be the perfect place to take an afternoon nap.
Saving Grace Page 5