Brody was inching his way back into her heart again. Or maybe he’d never left. But she couldn’t go there. Especially not now.
“If you need us, call. You have family,” her mom repeated what Grace already knew, but hearing the words felt good.
“If I need you, I’ll call.” Grace leaned into the arm that had circled her, pulling her close. “You and Dad are okay?”
“Of course we are. But I need to know that you’re okay, that you’re safe.”
“I’m safe. Don’t worry, I’ll go back to school and I’ll get back on track.”
“Of course I’m going to worry.”
At that Grace smiled. “I know you’ll worry, but it’s going to be okay. I’m going to make sure I’m safe and then I’ll go home. I can probably sign up for the spring semester.”
“You’ll get through this, Grace. And we’ll be home soon to help you.”
They said goodbye, then Grace reached for Brody’s hand. He led her back into the house and she let him, because it felt good to have someone take charge.
“You should have woken me up,” he said as he let go of her and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee.
“You obviously needed the sleep.”
He lifted the cup to his lips but grinned over the rim. “Can’t stop being the nurse, can you?”
She shook her head. “No, I guess it’s what we do in my family.”
“That’s not a bad thing, you know.”
“No, it isn’t, is it?”
“Oh, good, make this about me,” he grumbled good-naturedly.
“I’m happier making it about you. I think you need to be reminded that your brothers and Sam have always been there for you. You have a tendency to push people away.”
“Yeah, well, I need to figure this out on my own.”
“You haven’t told Duke and Jake?”
“I’m sure they’ve figured it out but they’re giving me space. You know—” the corner of his mouth lifted “—when you stomp around, quiet and unapproachable, people tend to give you space.”
“I’ve noticed that. I’m not sure why you do that.”
“Less complicated. People don’t get in my business, ask how I’m doing or expect too much.”
“Until me?” she asked, as she sat down across from him.
“Yeah, you’re kind of a thorn in my side,” he teased.
“I’ll go with you, to see your mother. If you want.”
“No, I don’t think so. When I’m ready I can do this on my own.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier with a friend?” She studied his face, the firm set of his mouth, the blue eyes that caught and held hers.
“I’m not sure anything can make this easier, Grace.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Do you want water? And to stop talking about this before we ruin a good meal?”
She followed him to the sink. It was a mistake. She knew before she got up and took those few steps. But she couldn’t stop herself. When he turned around, she was there, waiting for him.
She touched his face, tracing that serious expression with a fingertip and stopping on his cheek where a dimple hid, waiting for his smile. But he didn’t. Instead, his breath held, and she reacted in kind. He leaned close enough that she thought she felt his lips brush hers, but there was still air between them as he held there, just a breath away. The moment stretched between them, connecting them.
Brody suddenly stepped back, shaking his head. “This is wrong. I’m all about helping you out. I’m even okay with dinner. But I don’t think either of us needs this complication right now.”
Of course they didn’t. Grace put distance between them, trying to get her emotions firmly in check. Neither of them needed more regrets.
The small flutter in her abdomen caught her by surprise. No, baby girl, she thought. I don’t regret you. She only regretted that she hadn’t waited for the right man. She hadn’t waited for the person she would spend her life with. She hadn’t waited for a man worthy of her, worthy of her child.
She knew one worthy man, and his name was Brody Martin.
Chapter Six
The blow-dryer almost kept Grace from hearing the pounding on the front door Sunday morning. She heard a few short raps, then a pause and a few more raps. She shut off the blow-dryer and glanced out the window. Brody stood on the stoop, freshly shaved, his hair still damp, his plaid shirt unbuttoned over a T-shirt.
She went to the door, opening it to let in cool morning air and the spicy scent of his cologne. She tried to pretend it didn’t matter. After their dinner last night she should take a step back, let things cool off. Instead, she stood in the doorway reliving their almost kiss.
“How are you this morning?” she asked as she motioned him inside. “I have coffee for you. I only drink one cup so there’s almost a full pot.”
“Thanks.” He made his way to the kitchenette and poured himself a cup. “Go ahead and finish getting ready. We have time.”
“I’m almost done.” She stood in front of him, unsure. She really disliked being unsure. “Want me to button your shirt?”
“I’m fine.” He sat down at the table, sipped his coffee. When she continued to look at him, he cocked an eyebrow at her. “What?”
“I don’t mind.”
He leaned back in the chair. “I’m fully capable of buttoning my own shirt. This is just easier, and I choose easy over a daily struggle. I can button my own buttons. I can even cook a decent dinner, fix a fence and saddle my own horse.”
“I know you can, I just...” For some crazy reason she started to cry.
So this was what it meant to be an emotional, pregnant female. She swiped the tears away and tried to get mad at him, but she couldn’t. He muttered something under his breath, shoved back his chair and he was at her side, gathering her in his arms.
His lips grazed the top of her head. “Shh, I’m sorry. I’m taking steroids and you’re hormonal. Probably a bad combination.”
She nodded against his shoulder and his arm circled her, keeping her close.
“Go get ready. And I’ll have a cup of coffee that isn’t cold,” he whispered, his breath warm on her ear.
It was good advice. She would finish getting ready and she’d manage to get control of her heart, her emotions. She had a little person who needed her to focus on the future. To do that she couldn’t become distracted.
It would be easier if Brody was a stranger to her, and not the man whose secrets she knew and kept. Because there was a side of Brody that no one understood. Yes, he was charming. He played the part of the wild cowboy. But he was the furthest thing from that person he portrayed himself to be.
Deep down, Brody Martin was good, with faith and convictions that kept him grounded, and able to step away from entanglements that would cause him to stumble and forget himself and his faith.
When she came out of her room ready for church, Brody was sleeping on the couch. For the second time in two days. She sat on the coffee table and reached for his hand, but she stopped herself. Instead, she sat there, torn between waking him for church and letting him sleep.
His eyes opened and he blinked a few times, clearing the hazy, sleepy look. “I fell asleep.”
“Yes, you did.”
He sat up, sighing. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”
Neither had she, but probably for different reasons. “We should go. It’s almost ten o’clock.”
“If you want we can leave my truck and walk down the street to church.”
“That would be good. I could use some fresh air.”
They headed down the sidewalk in the direction of the church that sat on several acres at the end of Main Street. The morning was warm and the sun was bright. Maybe walking hadn’t been such a great idea. The heat made her a little nause
ated, and her steps slowed as they walked the short distance to the Martin’s Crossing Community Church.
“Are you okay?”
“A little sick, but it’ll pass.”
Taking her hand, Brody led her across the street to a small green area with a fountain and a few benches. “Let’s take a break.”
“I don’t want to be late for church.”
“If we’re late, we’re late. If you pass out, we won’t make it at all.”
“Passing out isn’t on my to-do list.” She sat on the bench and he sat next to her.
“When was your last doctor’s appointment?” he asked.
“I’ve only had one appointment. I need to find a doctor. I just thought I would wait until I got home to Forth Worth.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t wait.”
She shrugged off the suggestions. “I’m not having any problems. I just had a little nausea and lightheadedness from the heat.”
“I’m not an expert here, Grace, but I think the standard thing is a monthly visit to the doctor, right?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“If you need me to go with you, I can. If you don’t want me to go, I’m sure Oregon would.”
The church bells began to ring and Grace watched as latecomers ran up the steps and into the church. It was a pretty building, classic in design with a vestibule at the front, a tall steeple with a bell tower and stained glass windows. She didn’t compare it to her grandfather’s church, all glass and stone, and covering several city blocks.
Brody stood, his hand absently going to the chain on his neck before reaching for her hand. She smiled at the habit of reaching for the cross on that chain. She took his hand and stood, carefully, waiting to see if the sickness had passed. It had, and she prayed it wouldn’t return.
They approached the pretty little building that had been the center of the community since the beginning of the town’s history. It had been added on to over the years, she’d learned from Lefty Mueller, but the stained glass windows, the bell tower and the woodwork were original.
When they entered the church the congregation was standing for the opening hymn. Brody led her to a pew where Jake sat with his wife, Breezy, and Duke, Oregon and their daughter, Lilly. The two of them squeezed in next to Lilly.
People stared. She’d known they would. But they weren’t cataloguing her sins. She knew that, even as heat rushed to her face. They were watching because they knew Brody and she was at his side. They were speculating on what their relationship might be.
She could tell them they were friends, barely. She’d broken his heart, but he was good and kind and still willing to help her.
The sermon that day was on peace. The music seemed to coincide. But for Grace the day was about being in God’s presence. About making things right and about finding a way back, because she’d spent more than a year running from her life.
The closing prayer ended the service, but Grace took a moment longer, her head bowed. A hand touched hers. She looked up at Brody, who was standing next to her.
“You okay?”
“I’m good,” she assured him. “Thank you for bringing me.”
He shrugged. “Anytime. Jake said to invite you over for lunch. Breezy has something for the grill and Duke is bringing the sides.”
Lunch with the Martins. She settled her gaze on Brody for a heart-stopping moment because he was looking down at her with the softest look in his eyes. He had only fastened a few buttons of his shirt, and he was standing there as if this didn’t matter.
But it did. To her it mattered. It mattered because she needed his forgiveness. In her quest to live she’d overlooked the feelings of this man. She’d overlooked her faith. She hadn’t really thought about the consequences.
While she was in Martin’s Crossing she would make things right with him. She would help him face his past. And his future. She owed him that much.
“I’d love to have lunch with your family.”
* * *
Brody told Grace to wait at the church. He’d get his truck and pick her up so she didn’t have to walk. She’d argued that walking was good for her. He’d argued back that he wouldn’t have her passing out on him.
It was also a chance for him to get a few minutes to himself to think, because she was getting under his skin. Or maybe she’d been under his skin from the moment they’d met.
Some people, he’d heard, learned from their mistakes. He didn’t seem to be one of them. But he was fighting the part of himself that gave in too easily. It was that same part that had wanted to find Sylvia Martin, not to tell her how angry and hurt he was, but to know her. She had a story. She had a reason for leaving. He wanted her story.
He knew Grace’s story. She’d been loved, sheltered, and great things were expected from her. But she’d needed out of that ivory tower to find herself. She hadn’t been looking for love, just for adventure.
She definitely hadn’t wanted a broken-down cowboy for that future. She’d also made it pretty clear that she planned on going home to Fort Worth. It would serve him well to keep that in mind. Somehow he had to shed this need he had to take care of her, to keep her close.
Big words for the guy pulling up to the church and getting out to open the door for that same woman. She smiled up at him, all sunshine and sweetness, her blond hair framing her face, her dark brown eyes intent on his.
He closed the door as she buckled herself in, thanking the good Lord that every now and then he was in full control of his common sense.
As they drove out to the ranch he kept conversation to a minimum. It was easier that way, to play country music on the radio, pretending that every Keith Urban song wasn’t about falling in love. Why was it that when a man fell in love, he suddenly had to sing dozens of songs about the subject?
He reached to turn down the radio. She stopped him.
“I like that song.” She pushed his hand away from the button.
“Great.” He brushed a hand through his hair and focused on the road.
“Someone told me about your plan to buy horses and start a riding program for foster children,” she said.
“Someone did, did they?”
“Yes, is it true?”
He looked heavenward before answering, “Yep.”
“It’s a great idea.”
“I thought so.”
He had other good ideas. One dangerous one included pulling to the side of the road and kissing her. Another better idea had him heading the truck for Fort Worth and taking her home to her family. Instead, he turned at the entrance to the Circle M, driving under the arched, wrought iron sign.
“I’m trying to have a conversation, Brody. Maybe we can talk about something other than pregnancy and Lincoln.”
“And arthritis?”
“Yes.” She studied his face as she responded. “I’m interested in what you’re planning.”
He didn’t doubt that. “Can I turn the radio down now?”
In answer she pushed the power button.
“I want to use my degree and I think this is a way to stay on the ranch and still help kids. I remember what it was like, growing up a little bit lost and disconnected. If it hadn’t been for my horses, I might have had a different story.”
“So you’ll give kids a chance to spend time on the ranch?”
“That’s my plan. I want them to learn about horses, how to care for them and how to ride them. But it’s more than about riding. It’s about giving them a connection with animals. Because sometimes when we feel no one else is listening...”
He pulled in the drive of Jake’s house and parked behind Duke’s truck. “I know it sounds crazy.”
“No, it sounds amazing, like something you would think of.”
He felt his neck flush. “Yeah, w
ell, I’m a sensitive kind of guy.”
He hopped out of the truck, escaping her praise. That moment with her meant more to him than it should. When he opened her door she didn’t get out.
“You are a sensitive kind of guy,” she finally said. “And what you’re doing is great. So when someone tells you that, say thank you.”
“Okay, thank you.” He reached for her hand to help her out.
Lilly met them on the front porch of the house. She was sitting in a rocker with the twins, her grin wide. Brody gave her a long look, enough of a warning that she glanced away.
“What took you so long?” she asked, rocking back and forth with a couple of sleepy little girls.
“Are you in charge of my time card?” Brody asked, wiping his boots on the door mat.
“Nope, just wondering. I am in charge of...”
Brody pushed the door open. “Go on in, Grace.”
Grace looked from Brody to Lilly. “I think I’d rather hear what your niece has to say.”
“I’m in charge of ma...”
“Go.” Brody pushed her gently through the door. She winked at Lilly as she went inside.
Brody closed the door behind her, then pinned his niece with a look she wouldn’t misinterpret. “Don’t.”
“But you taught me the art.”
“I helped you out with your parents, but I don’t need help.”
She had the nerve to laugh. “Oh, I think you do. I’m very good at this, and you do not have game.”
“No, I don’t.” As the words slipped out he groaned, and of course she laughed even harder, bringing the twins to life. Rosie and Violet giggled, even though they didn’t know what they were giggling about.
“At least you’re honest.” She quieted the twins, who were still smiling big, watching him. “Let me know if you decide to take me up on my offer. And by the way, Dad accidentally got your mail. He wonders why you’re seeing a rooma...rooma-something.”
Rheumatologist. He didn’t explain to his niece; instead, he thanked her for the help and went inside.
Grace stood in the center of the massive living room with tile floors, a stone fireplace and leather furniture that would take up his entire trailer. He thought about Lawson and Elizabeth’s house, empty since Breezy had married Jake. He couldn’t quite bring himself to consider his sister and brother-in-law’s home for himself. It was big, too big for a bachelor.
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