The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3)

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The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3) Page 16

by Brenda Minton


  “What do you need, then?”

  “I guess space. And time. Grace has a life to figure out. I have to get this camp organized and horses bought. I have to deal with my health issues. She doesn’t need that on top of what she’s going through.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following,” Jake said as they turned away from the fence.

  “I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but I’m having some health issues.”

  “And you think that’s going to be a deal breaker for a woman? Brody, you look for reasons to sabotage relationships.”

  “Well, I guess I learned from my more experienced older brothers,” Brody shot back.

  “If you want to learn something from us, learn this before it’s too late—don’t push away the people that mean something to you.”

  “I’ll take that into consideration.”

  Jake headed for his truck. “Right, you do that. Take into consideration that someone might need you today.”

  “I’ll take that into consideration, too,” he muttered as he walked back down the driveway to the house. The big, lonely house. Yeah, that was what he missed about his trailer. It had been small but it hadn’t felt empty.

  When Lawton and Elizabeth had been alive, this house had been full of people, full of laughter. Now it was hollow with the distant memory of their family echoing in the halls. Their family pictures were still on the walls. Their things were still in the closets.

  A few days ago he’d been going through some stuff in one of the rooms upstairs and he’d found a gift that Elizabeth had bought for Lawton but had never got the chance to give him. He shook his head, remembering how he’d sat there crying over the vinyl records she’d meant for Lawton to add to his collection.

  Later he’d gone downstairs and played them on the old record player. He’d sat in the big leather chair in front of the fireplace and listened to George Jones.

  This house deserved people. A family.

  Not a lonely cowboy who gimped around and wished he had a life.

  Brody watched his brother drive away, then he went inside. He made a few phone calls, put Sally in her kennel and headed out.

  Grace might not welcome him at her side, but he’d take his chances. If something was going on, she shouldn’t be alone. After all was said and done, if she wanted space, he’d give it to her again.

  But today, she wouldn’t be alone.

  * * *

  Grace closed her eyes and prayed. Again. She’d prayed a lot in the past few days. She’d prayed for her baby. She’d prayed that she’d have strength to face whatever came her way. She opened her eyes, aware that a few people in the waiting room were watching her. A woman about her age gave her a sympathetic but understanding smile. They were both alone. Grace smiled back, drew in a deep breath and somehow felt a sense of peace that had been evading her. She wasn’t alone. Not really.

  God would not leave her or forsake her.

  The woman sitting opposite her looked toward the door and smiled. Grace glanced that way and for a moment everything went fuzzy. Her eyes filled with tears that she fought back. Brody. Six feet of cowboy and the quiet strength she suddenly needed. He closed the distance between them and took the seat next to hers.

  She hadn’t wanted anyone here. She had been determined to do this on her own. That suddenly didn’t make sense.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” The words rushed out.

  “You should have called. You know I would have driven you. As it is, I had to bring Duke with me to drive your car home. He’s waiting outside for your keys.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She brushed a hand across her eyes. “You really didn’t have to come.”

  He picked up her purse. “Find your keys, Gracie.”

  She nodded and dug through her purse, found the keys and handed them to him. He left her briefly and when he returned to sit next to her, she thought she’d never been so glad to see anyone.

  “Thank you.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

  His arm circled her. “Anytime, Grace.”

  When they called her name she froze, and the peace she’d been clinging to fled. She didn’t want to face this diagnosis. She closed her eyes and Brody’s arm tightened around her.

  “Grace, whatever it is, I know you can get through this. I know God can get you through it.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. I’m afraid, but I can do this.”

  “That a girl. And I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  She stood, reaching for her purse. He handed it to her.

  “Brody, I need you. With me, back there. Please. I know that’s a lot to ask. I know it isn’t what you planned. But I can’t do this alone.”

  He went with her. She held on to his hand as the nurse led them to the exam room where they would do the diagnostic ultrasound.

  “Go ahead and lie down, Grace.” The nurse straightened the paper sheet and pillow. “It isn’t comfortable, but it won’t take long.”

  Grace knew it wouldn’t take long. In a matter of minutes they would be able to tell her how her life would change. Brody held her hand as she took her place on the exam table. She leaned back, closing her eyes, wishing this moment away and knowing she had to face it.

  This was when parenting began, she realized. Long before a baby came into the world, mothers made choices, faced sickness and fought for their child.

  The doctor and an ultrasound tech entered the room. Grace smiled at Dr. Patterson. He wasn’t a tall man, just a few inches taller than she was. He had sandy-colored hair and an easy smile. She had liked him immediately. And she trusted him.

  “Grace, I’m glad you brought someone with you.” Dr. Patterson patted her leg. “I know you’ve probably been worried, but I want you to relax. Take good deep breaths and remember that faith you told me you have. The tests the other day were inconclusive, so we want to take another look at this little person so we can know what we’re dealing with.”

  Grace could only nod. Her hands shook. Her body trembled. She didn’t trust that she could open her mouth without her teeth chattering. Dr. Patterson turned up the heat in the room.

  The hand holding hers gave a light squeeze, remind her she wasn’t alone. She opened her eyes and his gaze held hers. She nodded and just one corner of his mouth tilted up, showing that dimple. She loved that dimple.

  Dr. Patterson took the seat where the ultrasound tech should have sat. He squirted gel on her belly and started to roll the ultrasound wand, catching the image and a heartbeat almost immediately. The tech leaned in, watching as he clicked for measurements. Grace looked for something, anything. And then she looked to Brody, catching his lean-cheeked profile as he studied the images in shades of gray and black. Her baby moved, a small hand grasping at nothing, a foot lifting.

  “It’s a girl, Brody,” she whispered. A tear slid down her cheek.

  “Are you sure that’s not a boy?” he teased.

  Dr. Patterson captured a few more images and then hit a button to eject the photos he’d taken. He handed one to Grace. And he smiled. “Nope, that’s a girl.”

  He continued to take photos. He clicked measurements. He sat back and let out a sigh. And then he turned, smiling.

  “Grace, I think we’re just fine here. There was some concern about head size and growth, but I think your little girl is healthy, and when you hold her in a few months, you’ll both be happy.”

  Hold her. Grace’s eyes filled with tears. Happy tears. She would hold her baby. “Thank you.” The words came out on a sob. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He handed her a tissue for her eyes and a towel. “And now I have a baby to deliver. Your little girl is healthy. Schedule your next appointment and I’ll see you in a month. Of course, if you have any concerns, call us.”

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nbsp; She nodded, watching as he left. The technician followed. She and Brody were alone. She sat up, her legs dangling over the side of the table. Brody was still looking at the picture she’d handed him.

  “A girl.” He grinned at her. “That’s pretty amazing, Gracie.”

  “I know.” She started to hop down from the table. Brody stopped her.

  “Shoes?” He picked up her shoes and carefully slid them on her feet. And then he took her hand and helped her down.

  Someday Brody would be someone’s husband. He would be a father. Her heart tripped over that thought. She closed her eyes, willed those images, the ones of him in her life, away. It was too easy to visualize him holding a baby girl close. It was too easy to imagine him with her.

  Life wasn’t that easy.

  A few minutes later they walked out of the clinic. Sunshine and blue skies greeted them, always a surprise after being in a windowless office. The air was cool, the way fall air should be.

  “How is school going?” Brody asked as they headed for his truck.

  “Good. I added some psychology classes. I realized that I love nursing, but I want to make it the career I choose. I’m not sure what the future holds, but I know that there are things I want to do that I hadn’t considered before.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he said as he opened the truck door for her.

  “And you, Brody. How are you doing?”

  “Good. I’m in remission. As long as I wear the brace, my knee isn’t too bad. And I’m having surgery in January.”

  He stepped back to close the door.

  She stopped him. “Brody, I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  “Do you think...” She sighed. “Do you think we could still be friends?”

  He glanced away, leaving her with just the view of his profile and a jaw that clenched as he studied the horizon.

  “We’re still friends. That’s why I’m here.”

  She nodded and moved her hand. He closed the truck door.

  When they were almost back to Martin’s Crossing, Brody pulled into a Western store. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even invite her to go in with him. He parked, went inside and a moment later returned with a bag. Grace watched him walk down the sidewalk.

  He got in, handed her the bag, started the truck and took off down the road again. She sighed, exasperated with his silence. He grinned. “Open it.”

  So she did. She pulled out a tiny box and took off the lid. Inside she found a pair of the tiniest pink cowgirl boots she’d ever seen. She lifted them out of the box.

  “Thank you. They’re perfect.”

  He nodded and kept driving. A couple of sleepless nights caught up with Grace and she dozed, waking when the truck stopped. She opened her eyes and realized they were home. Or she was home. Lights twinkled in Oregon’s All Things and only a few cars filled the Main Street parking spaces. Her stomach growled.

  “Duke’s is still open. Do you want me to bring something over?” Brody offered as he pulled the keys out of the ignition.

  “I’d love something to eat.” And more time with Brody.

  “Go on in and I’ll be back with dinner. Do you want the special? I think it’s chicken-fried steak.”

  “That sounds really good. I didn’t eat much today.”

  “No, you probably didn’t. I wish you would have called me.”

  “I wish I had called you, too.” The honesty in the statement took her by surprise. It made her think about how different the past few days might have been if she’d had Brody.

  But she didn’t have him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brody knocked on the door of the apartment and heard a muffled, “Come in.” He entered, kicked off his boots and set the food on the table. The room was lit only with a lamp in the corner and a light over the sink. A candle burned, already adding the scent of cinnamon to the air.

  Grace was curled up on the couch. She started to get up, but he motioned for her to stay. “I’ll bring it to you.”

  “Brody, you don’t have to do that. Honestly, you don’t have to be here.”

  He knew what she wanted to say—his presence complicated things. He complicated their lives by caring. He got it, most of the time. He’d thought about it from her perspective. She’d lived her life for other people. This was her time to find out what she wanted.

  “I’m here, Grace.” He found a tray in the cabinet, put her food on a plate and carried it to her on the tray, along with a bottle of water.

  She sat up and he placed the tray over her lap.

  “I’m not sick,” she insisted, but weariness settled in her eyes.

  “No, but you’re worn out and you need energy. That little girl needs you strong.” He sat down across from her. “I’m not moving into your life. I know you need space. I’m here because you need someone to take care of you today.”

  “You’re a good someone, Brody.” She ate a few bites and stopped. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  She gave him a look, but she didn’t argue. He watched as she ate every bite, closing her eyes as she ate the last of the potatoes and then lifted the tray off her lap. He took it, setting it on the coffee table. “I should go. Is there anything else I can get before I leave?”

  She shook her head.

  “Do you want me to call someone? Your grandmother,” he offered.

  “Brody, you’re the only someone I want. But I can’t, not now. I’m learning things about myself that I never knew. Like how much I love psychology. And afternoon talk shows. I don’t like contemporary music in church. I love the old hymns. I love our church and the people. I love Duke’s chocolate cream pie. I love this town with no stoplights. I don’t mind that I can’t run to the mall. All of the things I always thought were me aren’t me at all.”

  “You don’t have to convince me,” he assured her. He didn’t know what else to say. Except maybe he wanted to tell her that he didn’t ever want her to leave this one-horse town or him.

  “I brought you a piece of that pie. It’s on the counter,” he told her. “And now that you’ve eaten, I should go.”

  A smile broke across her face, the first real smile he’d seen there in a while. “And you’re just now telling me?”

  She jumped up and hurried to the kitchen. He watched as she opened the container with the biggest piece of pie Ned could fit. She grabbed two spoons and joined him in the chair, sitting on the arm and resting against his shoulder. She filled a spoon with pie and shoved it at him. He took a bite and then she handed him the spoon.

  “We can share,” she offered and took a bite with her own spoon.

  “Thanks.”

  She took another bite, her eyes closing. “I don’t know how he does this. It’s the best pie ever.”

  “He says it’s all about the type of chocolate. And he won’t tell what type that is.”

  “I wouldn’t want to know. I don’t like to bake. Another thing I’ve learned living on my own. I do like to cook, but I’d rather eat pie made by someone else.”

  “Any other life-changing realizations?” he asked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

  She finished the last bite of pie and took the container, setting it on the table. She turned to face him. Her hands moved to his cheeks and she smiled.

  “I like cowboys. I don’t want a lawyer or a doctor or a scientist. I want a cowboy who cares about kids.”

  He closed his eyes and she leaned, kissing him lightly and then whispering, “I want a cowboy.”

  “Grace, you’re killing me.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. Brody, I’m having a baby. I’m finishing college. I’m having your best friend’s baby. But you’re the someone I want.”

 
“He stopped being my best friend a long time ago,” he reminded her.

  “I know that. It’s just always going to be between us, isn’t it? This baby is his. I love her and I will always love her. But I can’t undo the fact that Lincoln Carter is her father.”

  “And you thought, what, Grace? That I’d hold it against you? Or against her?”

  “I don’t know. I only know that I hold it against myself.”

  He cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pulled her close, touching his lips to hers, melting them together for an achingly brief moment.

  “I love your baby girl,” he assured her. “When I think of that baby, I think of someone I can’t wait to meet and hold. Grace, I want to be a part of her life. I want to be part of your life with her. But I’m not going to push.”

  “I know you won’t. I just wish I could give you more.” She caressed his cheek, her fingers brushing along his hairline. “I know it’s selfish of me, but don’t give up on me. Please.”

  “I don’t give up easily.” He closed his eyes and then shook off the web of emotions that held him captive. He stood, pulled her to her feet with him. “But I have to go.”

  “I know.”

  “Make me a promise, Grace.” He led her to the door with him, not wanting to let her go just yet.

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t go through something like that alone. Next time, call me.”

  They were at the door and she leaned, resting her head on his chest. She had to hear his heartbeat racing. It was chasing after something he didn’t know he would ever have.

  “Next time I’ll call.” Her hand rested on his chest and once again she found the chain. “You’re wearing it again.”

  “When I was packing up I found it on the counter of the trailer. I decided the safest place for it is around my neck.”

  He’d much rather have it on her finger. But he couldn’t say that.

  Not yet.

  * * *

  Grace pulled the chain free from his shirt and held the ring in her hand. The metal was smooth and cool; the diamond sparkled in the dim light of the room. The silver cross hanging with the ring was warm from being against his body.

 

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