A Risk Worth Taking

by Melissa Klein

  “I talked it over with Heather and what she said made sense. If Grace is having fun, it doesn’t matter if they can’t scientifically prove it helps.”

  “Good for you,” Abby said, once again marveling at Grant and Heather’s ability to work through their differences in the name of their daughter’s wellbeing.

  “Thanks. Her lesson is at noon. Why don’t you come here around eleven and we’ll go together.”

  “I’ll see you then.” She started to hang up. Instead, she blurted out, “I’m looking forward to meeting her.” Abby felt she already knew Grace. Katie had been sharing pictures and stories of her niece from the time the little girl was born. Then as Abby and Grant had grown close, she’d heard the more poignant parts of Grace’s history. About the milestones missed, the doctors, the diagnosis.

  Right on time, Abby waved at the guard as she passed through the gate. With Harvey still on the critical list at the garage, she was driving one of Grant’s cars. Her pride had waged war on her sense of practicality, and though the battle had been tough, in the end practicality had won. One thing that helped was getting to breeze through security in his pass-identified car.

  Driving through the expensive subdivision, she felt as if she was caught in an episode of Dallas. The theme song played in her head as she pulled on to the long drive leading to the house he’d bought for Grace. Thank heavens, the similarities between the Davis clan and the Ewings ended there.

  Instead of parking at the gatehouse, as she did most times, she pulled the car up to the main house. Breathing deeply to settle her nerves, Abby reminded herself not to expect a lot of interaction from Grace. All kinds of professional talk ran through her mind, but her heart wanted this to go well. Abby snagged the Easter basket from the passenger seat before making her way to the front door.

  She rang the bell then set the basket down so her hands would be free. Usually, Grant had the door open before the chimes finished and had a habit of pulling her across the threshold into an over the top greeting. Not that she minded but she’d learned the hard way not to have anything her hands when he opened the door.

  After several seconds, she pushed the bell again, then waited some more. She was about to fish her cell phone from her purse when Grant finally opened. “Hey, beautiful lady,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Sorry about taking so long. I was just finishing packing Grace’s bag.”

  Taking a cue from his less demonstrative greeting, Abby slipped her arm around him in one of those hugs she usually reserved for other women’s husbands and boyfriends. The kind where she wasn’t pressing her boobs into the guy’s chest. “No problem.”

  Grant led her into a large family room. “Grace,” he sang out. “Come here, sweetheart. There’s someone Daddy wants you to meet.”

  From the time at Katie and Jackson’s wedding when he’d extended his hand and drawled, “Ms. Roberts would you care to dance,” she loved the deep way his voice resonated. This gentle coaxing made her heart ache it was so sweet.

  “Don’t be shy, sugar,” he urged when a blond head peeked from behind a wall.

  “I brought her a present,” Abby said, holding up the basket. Ever the teacher, she’d purchased several board books and art supplies instead of candy.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his gaze shifting. “She will love you even without it.” He fingered one of the books. “But, you’re going to have a new best friend with this.”

  “Katie told me Grace was a dog lover.”

  At the word, Grace ventured from behind the wall. What an angel. Her blond hair was pulled back in a pair of not quite perfect ponytails. She scurried along the wall till she reached Grant’s leg, where she promptly tucked herself behind.

  Abby bent to one knee. She signed as she spoke. “Hi there, my name’s Abby.”

  A dimpled hand waved from behind her father’s leg. “Abby brought you a present.” Stepping aside, Grant brushed his hand over her hair. “Tell her thank you.”

  Abby held the basket out, and her heart warmed as Grace touched her fingers to her lips signing “thank you.” Then she immediately plunked herself on the floor and pulled the book from the basket.

  “That went okay, didn’t it?” Abby asked, her chest loosening.

  He eyed her, surprised. “Were you worried? I can’t imagine a child not liking you.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  Grant took her hand, and they watched Grace investigate her basket. Then after a few minutes, he checked his watch. “Do you mind keeping an eye on her for a second? I need to grab some things from upstairs.”

  She shook her head. “Not at all.” Abby’s hands itched to run her fingers through Grace’s hair. Finally, she asked, “Would you like me to read that to you?”

  Grace signed “yes” and crawled onto the sofa next to Abby.

  She took the book and began to read just as she had to hundreds of children. The act brought her back to when Jackson was little and nostalgia washed over her. Though she read to her students, it had been years since a little one sat tucked into her side.

  “See, I told you she would love you,” Grant said, walking into the room.

  The sight of his arms filled with a purple backpack and tiny helmet brought a smile to her lips. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked.

  “Nope, I’ve got it. We better hurry or we’ll be late.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were finally pulling out of the garage. Abby tucked her hands beneath her. Her fingers itched to run up his shoulders and along his nape. She’d grown addicted to letting her hands have free range.

  “Preflight check out all right,” she teased.

  “I’ve got my two best girls in the car with me. Can’t be too careful.” Grant plugged his phone into the car, adjusted the mirrors before pushing the ignition. The sound of The Wheels On The Bus filled the air.

  “When I’m a doddering old lady and don’t even know my own name, I’ll probably still know the lyrics to this song,” Abby commented as they headed out.

  He sang a few lines, his deep voice sounding simultaneously fantastic and silly when singing about a never ending bus ride. “They kinda get in your head, don’t they?”

  With the music filling the SUV’s interior, they reached the stables. Rocks pinged against the underside of Grant’s vehicle as he drove up the rutted, narrow drive leading from the highway to McCracken’s Farm.

  After taking Grace from her car seat, Grant held on to her hand as she tugged him toward the riding arena. . Abby hung back, letting him do the daddy thing until it came time for Grant to relinquish Grace to the care of the therapist. One look at his clenched jaw and she knew it was time for her to lend some moral support.

  The furrows across his brow deepened as the horses began to move. “Could they not find any smaller horses for this?”

  She sidled next to him as he leaned against the ring’s wooden fence. “She’ll be fine,” Abby promised.

  Grace and her roan colored mare plus three more riders and mounts made a slow pace around the ring. A guide flanked each child as the horses ambled around the circle. Other than the muffled sounds of hoofs plodding against sawdust, the outdoor arena was quiet, peaceful even.

  Some of his tension eased as the horses made several uneventful laps around the ring. Grant leaned over and said, “She really likes this.”

  Abby studied Grace’s impassive expression. “How can you tell?”

  “She was playing in her room this morning while I was getting us ready. She caught sight of her helmet and boots as I was putting them in her backpack and that was it. Her favorite stuffed dog, Bobo, hit the floor and she went tearing off toward the back door. I thought she might be riding in her pajamas today. I like to have never got her back upstairs so I could her dressed.”

  She chuckled. “That’s good.”

  Action in the ring claimed her attention as the guides began accelerating the horses’ pace to a brisk walk. Grace, still holding tight to the horn, bounced rhyth
mically in the saddle.

  Grant gripped Abby’s arm. “I’m dying to duct tape her to the saddle. Do those kids know what they’re doing?” he asked, squeezing her harder.

  Abby patted his hand and tried not to smile. “The stables have the right credentials and all the handlers are properly trained.”

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No,” she said, blushing because she was a little amused by his white-knuckle parenting style. “I’m just surprised at how nervous you are. I didn’t think anything frightened Captain Daredevil.”

  He winked, then leaned in to whisper, “I have a confession to make. I’m a big scaredy-cat when it comes to my girl. When I came last week to watch Grace’s first session, Heather ended up sending me to the car.”

  If she already wasn’t in love with him, that last statement would have done it. Gorgeous, fearless, dominant, his godlike perfection drew her like iron to a magnet, but it was his Achilles heel that bound her tighter to him.

  His attention suddenly jerked back to the ring. He raked his hands through his hair. “Are they galloping?”

  Easing her arm around her Achilles, she cooed, “No, sweetheart, they’re not. I don’t even think that could be considered a trot.” Abby steered him toward a picnic table she’d noticed on their way in. “Why don’t we come over here. No one says you have to watch.”

  “Thanks. It’s probably a good idea” he said, shooting a glance over his shoulder. He let out a breath. “Thank God, I’m not going to have to face her dating. I’d probably have an aneurysm.”

  “She might, you know.”

  His worried gaze shot to hers.

  “I just meant, there’s no knowing what things will be like in the future,” Abby explained, feeling like she was making matters worse instead of better.

  “I know.” He toyed with the edge of the picnic table. “But, that’s what worries me. Who’s going to watch over her when her mother and I are gone?”

  Instinct told her he wasn’t looking for a list of people who’d gladly look after Grace. She laced her fingers with his and leaned into him. Since she arrived, he’d been uncharacteristically solemn, which perplexed her to no end. But thankfully, for the moment her attempts at distracting him seemed to be working, so she continued rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

  Finally, he broke the silence. “Did you just want the one child or would you have had more if you’d had the chance?”

  Her eyes widened, caught off guard at his change of tack. “I don’t know. I like kids so probably.”

  “I hate that Grace is an only child,” he said, shaking his head. “Even though Katie is a lot younger than me, we’ve always been close. I just think it’s nice to have a sibling.”

  Abby nodded. “Sarah and I aren’t close, but she’s the only person in the world who knows what it was like to grow up with our parents.”

  “Yeah,” he answered, his voice sounding far away. “I don’t think Katie remembers much about our old man, which is a good thing. But, she’s really good with our mom.”

  “Sarah and I had each other when our parents passed. That meant a lot.”

  Several heartbeats of silence passed while he continued to turn the table into toothpicks. “If the circumstances were right,” he said, his eyes locking on to hers. “Would you want to have another child?”

  Her chest grew tight, remembering her tender moments with Grace. So filled with the stresses of raising a child on her own, her memories of Jackson’s childhood, though sweet, were colored with worry. She couldn’t imagine how lovely it would have been just to absorb the joys of motherhood.

  For a slit second, she considered giving an ambivalent answer, but he deserved the truth. She shook her head. “No, I don’t want more children.” Her biological clock played only a small role. She’d heard of a few women who’d had healthy children after forty-five. “I like where my life is headed, and I wouldn’t want to start over again with diapers and midnight feedings.”

  A pained looked crossed his face. “Oh, okay. I can understand that.”

  She felt as though she’d somehow failed a test and would have given anything to have supplied him with the answer he wanted.

  Finally, he filled the awkward silence. “What you say we take Grace to the park after this?”

  “That would be great,” she murmured, her thoughts still on his left-field question. Their relationship was so new. The step from getting-to-know-you-fun to baby-talk seemed like a giant leap.

  “Afterward we can head to the house for dinner.”

  That was about as far into the future as they ever got, what was just around the corner. They also never talked about the elephant in the room, the one draped in the Union Jack. Beyond deciding they were exclusive, they’d never talked about commitment. She couldn’t bring herself to do it now, even as her move to London loomed.

  Tears stung her eyes, which was completely ridiculous considering until this moment she didn’t think she’d ever been this happy with her life. Jackson was grown, married, and doing well. Financially, she was as secure as she’d ever been. Most of all, she was blessed to have a man in her life who was good to and for her.

  Abby blinked away the tears. “Sounds like a plan,” she told him even as a tendril of worry snaked through her, like anxiety kudzu intent on choking her happiness.

  Chapter 16

  The next Saturday morning dawned with a sky as blue as a robin’s egg, and as soon as she’d downed a couple cups of coffee, Abby was busy in her garden. Channeling her inner farm-girl, she nestled another handful of daffodils into the basket she had hung from the crook of her arm. The bouquet she planned taking to Katherine’s tonight was the extent of her required contribution to the family celebration. Who the heck catered Easter dinner for ten?

  She’d stepped onto her back porch and was shucking off her rubber boots when her phone came alive against her hip. “Hey babe,” she practically sang into the phone. “What’s got you up this early?”

  His laugh was a low rumble that sent her blood to racing. “Missing you. Would you like to come over today?”

  More than anything. Which was why she needed to say no. Spending every waking minute together would only make moving to London harder. “I do, but I wanted to finish off the bedroom today.” She also wanted to ask if he’d fly over for visits while she was there. The prospect of sounding needy kept her from voicing her desire almost as much as the fear he’d say no.

  “Sure, I forgot,” he drawled, sounding disappointed. “I guess I should let you get to work.”

  “I’ll see you tonight at your mother’s,” she quickly added. Expecting him to invest that amount of time when he had so many other obligations, seemed to border on narcissism. He had enough of that type in his life already.

  “I know you can’t wait,” he chuckled. “Maybe we can slip back to the butler’s pantry.”

  Nothing kept him down for long. Not even her emotional issues. “Yeah,” she began teasing him in return. “Because your mother won’t notice when twenty percent of her company disappears.” Her need to feel his body next to hers tested her resolve to keep her distance. She amended her I’ve-got-things-to-do statement. “If you want, I can come to your place tomorrow.”

  She could practically hear his smile. “Awesome and I can’t wait to see you in a couple hours. Even if I’ll have to keep my hands to myself.”

  After hitting the end button, Abby stuck the flowers in a vase and moved down the hall to Jackson’s old room. Three or four hours putting on the final touches and the place would be perfect. The butterfly print drapes and matching window cushions added just the right amount of whimsy. She’d also pulled the books down from the attic, thinking Ms. Griffin’s girls would enjoy them. A dozen or so boxes of children’s books lined the walls of the freshly painted room.

  Several hours later, Abby had filled all the shelves she could reach without a ladder. “Darn it,” she grouched to herself. She’d taken her folding ladder to sch
ool so she could hang her students’ artwork from the ceiling. “I guess a chair will have to do.”

  Dashing to the kitchen, she snagged a kitchen chair from the set she’d bought in a yard sale several years ago. Abby jiggled it to check for sturdiness. It seemed like it could hold her weight. With a stack of books under her arm, she pulled the chair toward the shelves and mounted it. The first couple trips up and down her improvised ladder went just fine then a loud snap sent her crashing to the floor.

  Every bone in her body felt rattled. Even her teeth hurt where her jaw had made contact with the hard wooden floor. Thankfully, unlike the elderly woman in the commercial for emergency pendants, she actually could move. Slowly, she pulled herself to her knees and after a few deep breaths to keep down her last meal, an inventory of her injuries seemed like a good idea.

  She brushed her fingers over the goose egg already forming on her forehead. Since it was only tender and her head was no longer swimming, she figured she hadn’t managed to give herself a concussion. Her wrist hadn’t fared as well since it had taken the brunt of her weight. It throbbed with every heartbeat. She gingerly pressed a finger on the bruise that was already blooming.

  “Son-of-a-biscuit-eater,” she cursed. One touch was all it took for her to realize it was broken. When she’d been hoping for an excuse not to attend Katherine’s Easter dinner, this was so not what she had in mind.

  Using the remains of the kitchen chair, she pulled herself to her feet. “Darn,” she growled as she took in the mess she’d created. On her way down she’d pulled the drapes from the window, the chair leg lay splintered across the wooden floor, and books were scattered around the room.

  She rolled her eyes at the mess and made her way to the kitchen. Then she snagged a bag of frozen peas and a clean dish towel on the way to the table. After a couple of minutes of deep breaths and mumbled curses, she reached across the table for her phone and pulled up Chris’s number. Shoot! That wouldn’t work. By now he was probably halfway to Charleston.

  She moved her finger down the list of frequently dial numbers and pushed Jackson’s. It rang five times then went to voicemail. Not wanting to freak him out, she kept her voice light. “Hey Jackson, your mom’s done something pretty stupid and I need your help. Please call me.”