by Melody Anne
After their little tiff in his barn, she’d marched up to the house, gone straight to her room, and sat there sulking for a while. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him, didn’t want to be with him, didn’t love being in his arms or sitting there talking with him.
Grace had no doubt what this was about. He’d looked at her with something shining in his eyes that seemed far too much like love, and she had run. She could keep repeating to herself that it was to protect herself, to guard her heart, to avoid being controlled by a mere man ever again, but it still boiled down to that one uncontrollable emotion—fear. Illogical, irrevocable fear.
“Sorry I took so long. I was supposed to be out of here an hour ago, but then a car-versus-biker case came in, and you know how that goes . . .” Sage trailed off when she saw the look on Grace’s face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here. I don’t know how you work in a hospital sixty-plus hours a week. The smell alone would drive me crazy.”
“There’s definitely something wrong, but I can beat it out of you on the way to dinner. I think I could eat an entire cow right now, I’m so hungry.”
The two women walked from the hospital and climbed into Sage’s shiny red SUV, a gift from her husband, who had said there was no way he was allowing her to end up on the wrong side of the hospital bed. Sage’s old car had hardly been the safest of vehicles.
Three minutes of silence followed before Sage let out a deep sigh. “Okay, woman, I’m trying to give you time to gather your thoughts, but you know that patience isn’t one of my virtues, so spill your guts already.”
“It’s really nothing that matters, Sage. I mean, I’m the one who asked for it, and I’m getting what I want, so I don’t see why I’m so dang upset about it. Maybe it’s hormones, or maybe I’m slowly going insane from years of living with horrific parents. Cry me a river, cue the violins, and all that. I don’t know. I finally get what I want—silence—but instead of being happy about it, I’ve been on the verge of tears for three days.”
“All right, darling, normally I can decipher crazy talk, but I have to admit that right now I’m completely clueless. Could I ask for a translation?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Then to Grace’s utter horror, her eyes filled with tears, and before she was able to blink them back, they flooded down her cheeks.
Sage found a place to pull over. She turned to Grace with such a look of horror on her face that it brought out a wobbly smile.
“I’m so sorry,” Grace said. “I know, I never cry. And usually I’m the one who’s giving out the advice and saying ‘Suck it up’ or something equally drill sergeant–like, but right now I feel like I’m coming apart completely,” Grace sobbed. Much to her horror, the tears kept right on falling.
“What in the world did Cam do to you?” Sage asked, menace in her eyes. “I swear, if he did something—and he had to have done something—I’m going to find him and . . . and . . . beat the crap out of him. I’ll damn well use something more effective than defibrillation paddles, too.”
The pure fury on Sage’s face broke through the tears and made Grace laugh. The thought of petite Sage going up against Cam, who easily weighed twice as much and who towered over her by a good twelve inches, made Grace’s day.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” Grace said with a sniffle.
“I love you, too, sweetie, which is why I need to kick someone’s ass for doing this to you.”
“No one did anything to me. This is all on me,” Grace said with a hiccup.
“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me what is going on,” Sage demanded, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.
“I had ‘almost sex’ with Cam twice, and some hot kisses off in the shadows, and then, of course, real sex months ago, and . . . and . . . I’m letting him in, letting him get to me.” The tears started all over again.
She waited for Sage to tell her what a fool she’d been, waited for her best friend to tell her that it could never work, that her and Cam’s time was over. She waited for Sage to tell her all the words she needed to hear in order to get over her high school crush.
So when her best friend started chuckling, then full-out laughing, it was such a shock that it instantly dried up Grace’s tears. She sat there and watched Sage guffawing so hard, she snorted a few times. When Grace could speak again, her tone was less than friendly.
“What in the world is wrong with you, Sage? I’m speaking from my heart and you’re laughing at me?”
“I’m sorry, Grace. I really am. I’m trying to get it under control, but this is so dang funny. First, that you think you can actually resist the love of your life; second, that you’re so ridiculously upset about having real feelings for the man; and third, that you’re pissed off over crying. I’ve known you for a lot of years, and you are my absolute best friend, but to see tears on your cheeks, puffy eyes, and a swollen upper lip is the joy of my life. You are too beautiful for words and, even crying, you look like a heroine waiting for her knight, but you can have real emotion without the world stopping.”
Sage’s laughter was reduced to a few chuckles again as she was giving her little speech. The rest of Grace’s tears dried up as she glared at her friend.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying my pain,” she snapped.
“Oh, it’s not your pain that I’m enjoying; it’s the fact that the seemingly unflappable Grace Sinclair can actually get her feathers ruffled at least once in her life. I cried so much when I didn’t know which way was up and which was down with Spence. And you’re always so in control . . .” The last of Sage’s giggles died away.
“I’m in control?” Grace gasped. “You have a certain order to everything, even in decorating a Christmas tree. You’re OCD personified. I, on the other hand, live life by the seat of my pants.”
“That’s so not true,” Sage said. “No, you may not feel that you have to be as organized as I do, but you’re always in control of your emotions, or you try to look as if you are. I love seeing you going a little crazy. It’s really good for my ego.”
“Ugh. I shouldn’t have told you any of this. I already feel like a fool for sitting here, bawling my eyes out.”
“It’s perfectly human to cry when you’re sad or frustrated, Gracie. It doesn’t make you a weaker person, and it doesn’t make others think less of you—well, unless you do it morning, noon, and night, seven days a week. But we cry for a reason—so we’re not holding all of that emotion inside us. It’s perfectly healthy and normal.”
“I just want him to leave me be. I was doing perfectly fine without him—I was for years.”
“Maybe if you were honest with yourself, and honest with Cam, you would actually work some of this out,” Sage told her. “You can sit there all day long and say you were fine, but I see the way you still look at that man, and you know as well as I do that you’re in love with him. Always have been and always will be. Quit fighting yourself, and him, too.”
Grace was surprised by the sudden firmness in Sage’s voice. Her friend wasn’t normally so forceful, at least not when it came to matters of the heart. But then again, Grace didn’t often discuss personal matters with anyone, even her BFF. It was something very difficult for her to do.
“Why can’t you just be a normal best friend who tells me exactly what I want to hear?” Grace grumbled.
“Because then I wouldn’t be your best friend. I swear I’ve told you that before. Have you ever told me what I want to hear?” Sage asked with a meaningful look. “Or do you tell me what I need to hear?”
“That’s different,” Grace said.
“How so?”
“Because this is about me and that’s about you.”
“Grace, you’re a pain in the ass. I hope you realize that,” Sage said before reaching out and giving her a big hug. “Look, you’ve been keeping secrets from me since I got back to town and found you here. I hope you aren’t doing the same with Cam. Unlike me,
he can actually help you with law-type stuff. I can help you with the emotional stuff.”
“Or you can just laugh at me,” Grace murmured.
“I can laugh at you and still help you. And I don’t charge a thousand bucks an hour.” Sage started the car again and pulled out on the road as they made their way to Billings.
“What if this is all just about sex for him?”
“Aren’t you the one who used to tell me to get it wherever I could?” Sage asked.
“Yes. But you know that was mostly for show. I don’t take sex as lightly as I pretended to when I was teasing you.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Again, I’m your best friend, Grace. I know you better than any other person on this planet. And that’s a stupid question, because you know Cam and you know it’s not just about sex.”
“I know. But I let Cam hurt me once and I won’t do it again. I lost myself for a while. I never want to be lost again.”
“Maybe you’re his soul mate and he knows you’re scared. Cam’s not the type of guy to stand around with his thumbs in his pockets. If he wants something, he’ll go after it. I don’t think he wants to run anymore. No way.”
“Or maybe it’s because I’m the woman who got away and he’s just a man who doesn’t like being told no,” Grace growled.
“That could be true as well. The offer is still there for me to kick his ass if you want me to.” Sage said this so seriously that Grace couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I might take you up on that, sweetie.”
Sage was quiet for a few moments and Grace pulled herself together.
“There’s so many bad decisions I’ve made in my life, but the worst decisions have been choosing the men I’ve been with,” Grace finally said.
“We all make bad dating choices, Grace.”
“Jimmy raped me,” Grace quietly admitted.
“I’m going to kill him,” Sage said, so much fury in her voice.
“That’s not the worst of it, Sage. While I was drugged and unconscious, he took pictures of me—bad pictures. Then he used those to blackmail me for a couple of years. I told my mother about it, but she reamed me up one side and down the other. She said I would disgrace the family if I ever said anything.”
Grace stopped, hating to admit this ugliness to her best friend.
“That wasn’t your fault, Grace. And that woman you call ‘Mother’ doesn’t deserve that title. She never has. How dare she shame you!” Sage looked as if she wanted to punch something.
“After I found him in bed with my mother, I stopped paying him the money. If she could sleep with a man who had done what he’d done with me, I was no longer worried about shaming her. He was too much of a coward to keep coming after me when I refused to pay him anymore, but as if one or two mistakes weren’t enough, then I met Vince.”
She stopped again, hating to confess her shame even more.
“I remember you speaking about him. But you never said anything bad,” Sage said. They were still driving as the sun dropped from the sky, and soon they entered Billings. The car stopped but neither of them moved.
“Your life was so good. It seemed that everyone’s lives but mine were good, so I glamorized it all, made it sound like I had this amazing hot Italian lover who rocked my world, but in reality he was demeaning, demanding, and horrible to me. It took me a year to get away from him. I just always make the wrong choices, it seems. I don’t want to keep doing that. I want to be stronger.”
“Ah, honey, you are so much stronger than you think. Don’t continue to berate yourself for trusting people or protecting people who should love you unconditionally. And always remember that I love you no matter what,” Sage told her as she reached across the seats and pulled Grace close for a hug.
“I love you, too, Sage. Thanks for listening to me. It does feel better to get some of this off my chest,” Grace said.
“One more piece of advice,” Sage added before pausing. “Don’t push Cam away. For years I’ve watched you push people away for fear of getting hurt. Don’t do it with Cam. He really is one of the good guys.”
“I don’t know if I’m qualified to tell who the good guys are anymore,” Grace said.
“You will know if you search your heart. But I won’t keep preaching at you about it,” Sage told her.
She didn’t say anything more, just got out of the car and waited for Grace to join her. Grace didn’t know what she was going to do next. But it was much too late to push Cam from her life, because no matter what she told anyone, she knew that she really did love him.
Grace used to love watching movies, because they allowed her to sink into a world of make-believe and live, if only for a couple of hours, anywhere but in the here and now. She was suddenly the heroine of the story, traveling through space and time, or having a man do that all for her, just to be with her. Real life wasn’t nearly that simple or nearly that happy. If only it were.
She was home. Finally. And she loved her place, a nice cottage-style home nestled in the trees and only steps away from the slow-flowing creek that she loved so much. The place was only about two thousand square feet, but it was an open floor plan with wonderful views of the hills, the water, and the forest all around her.
The spacious kitchen boasted an island and a built-in oven where she might actually find some enjoyment in cooking. The living room was off the kitchen and she’d lovingly picked out deep-chocolate-colored leather furniture that was both beautiful and comfortable and had already hung colorful splashes of artwork on her walls, making the interior feel welcoming.
Her favorite part of the home was the large master bedroom with a king-sized bed, deep-purple bedding, and, again, large windows she could open up and listen to the birds sing through. It wasn’t the size of Cam’s place, and she’d certainly love to own his bathroom, but she hadn’t wanted to be extravagant and remind herself of the home she’d grown up in.
She was more than willing to give up some luxuries to have peace of mind. And that was exactly what she should have been feeling. Unfortunately, she wasn’t.
A full week had now passed since she’d last spoken with Cam, and she was beginning to think he’d given up on her, but that morning a bouquet of flowers had arrived with a simple note attached: Call me when you’re ready.
The words were simple, and she’d read them a thousand times over, trying to inject meaning into them, but the bottom line was that she couldn’t find fault with them. He wasn’t suddenly trying to make her do something she didn’t want to do. He was leaving any decision up to her.
And she didn’t know what to do with that. She didn’t know how to handle this new way he was choosing to communicate with her. So she’d sat at home and watched movies since noon. Along with her movies, she’d eaten a few bowls of heavily buttered popcorn and drunk a little too much wine. Talk about a glamorous Friday night.
And still, unlike the endings of the movies she had chosen to watch, she was feeling distinctly unhappy. During the course of the evening, she’d grabbed her phone about two dozen times and tried desperately to work up the courage to call Cam, to tell him she was ready to talk. But each time she put the phone down without dialing.
Finally, her eyes were drifting shut, when there was a knock on her door. Jumping up, she glanced at the clock, noting it was nearly midnight. Who in the world would be knocking on her door at that hour?
Something horrible must have happened. It could only be Sage or one of the Whitmans. It took a moment to get her frozen muscles to move, but finally she managed to get up and struggle toward the door.
She didn’t want to open it, didn’t want to find out who was out there this late at night. She loved her new place because it was away from the main hustle and bustle of Sterling, such as it was, but she was all alone in the woods. That thought normally didn’t frighten her, but the only people who came calling this late at night were bearers of bad news.
She reached the door and listened but didn’t hear any noise on
the other side. “Who’s there?” she asked, but she got only silence in response.
“I’m not opening the door unless you tell me who’s there,” she called a little louder.
There was a thump on the other side of the door that made her heart race. Someone was out there, and whoever it was didn’t want her to know his or her identity. Slowly, trying not to make a single sound, she tiptoed over to her window and tried to work up the courage to peek outside. Easier thought than done, though.
When there were still no more sounds, fear filled her. And suddenly being in the middle of the woods wasn’t quite as pleasant as it had been. Tiptoeing over to her phone, her heart raced as she dialed emergency services. Had she shut her bedroom window? She’d opened it earlier to let the cool spring air inside.
“Nine one one. What’s your emergency?”
“Someone is at my door. They won’t answer,” she whispered into the phone.
“What’s your address, ma’am?” Grace gave her address and the voice continued: “Please stay on the line. I’m dispatching the sheriff to your place.”
The next ten minutes were the longest of Grace’s life. She curled up in a corner of the kitchen, below the counters and away from the windows, and clutched her phone in a death grip as she waited for either the sheriff to arrive or the intruder to come through her door and end it all.
Fear. It was a tangible thing. Only moments before the knock had sounded on her door, she’d been tired, ready to drift into oblivion, and then that noise, the knowledge that someone who was up to no good was on the other side of her door, had made her adrenaline spike, shaking her to her foundations.
“It’s just a prank,” she mumbled to herself, although in her gut she knew she was lying to herself.
When a pounding sounded on her door, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Gracie, it’s Sheriff Thompson. Open up.”