Eight Second Angel: The Ballad of Lily Grace (Lonesome Point, Texas Book 7)

by Jessie Evans

  She supposed Grace must have felt the same way, or she wouldn’t have climbed up to the roof of the Economy Lodge Hotel.

  Lily’s heart leapt into her throat as her gaze drifted lower, down to the lined pavement of the parking lot far, far below. She was at least six stories up, poised to take a dive to her death. The wind whipped through her hair, drying the tears on her cheeks as her gaze focused in on the small white sneakers balanced on the edge of the concrete ledge below her, a ledge no more than three inches wide.

  Three. Inches. Wide.

  Terror rocketed through her nerve endings, white hot and clutching. Instinctively her arms pinwheeled backward, clawing through the air toward the safety of the roof behind her, but the sudden movement sent her hips jutting forward, upsetting her already unsteady balance.

  She had time to realize that she was falling and to pray she would be able to catch herself before she slid down the face of the hotel, before strong arms closed around her waist, jerking her backward.

  Her savior held tight as they both fell to the ground, grunting as he hit the warm tar roof first, shielding her from the worst of the impact. Lily collapsed on top of him, boneless with relief and trembling too hard to get to her feet.

  “Thank you,” she gasped, fisting her fingers in his soft tee shirt and holding on for dear life, a part of her still feeling like she was falling. “Thank you so much.”

  “Jesus Christ, Grace.” The man cupped her face in his rough hands, his arms shaking as hard as she was. “What were you thinking? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I d-don’t know,” Lily stammered, overwhelmed by the adrenaline pumping through her new body and the way it felt for that body to be pressed against someone else. The man who held her was so warm, so alive.

  God, she’d almost forgotten what that was like, the pain and pleasure and vulnerability of it. She’d forgotten what it meant to have nerves that feel or a heart to break. She’d forgotten how lonely it could be inside your own skin or how quickly the loneliness could fade away when the right person holds you close.

  John.

  It made her think of her husband. She wondered where he was right now and if his new wife was holding him close, taking his loneliness away. She hoped so, no matter how much it hurt to know that the man who had been her everything now belonged to someone else.

  “Talk to me, Grace,” the man beneath her demanded, pulling her thoughts back to the present. “Why are you up here?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, blurring the man’s handsome face. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m s-sorry.”

  “All right. Don’t cry.” The stranger guided her head to his chest with a sigh and held her, his fingers threading gently through her hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. You just scared me is all.”

  Lily relaxed into him, taking comfort from the feel of the strong chest beneath her cheek, even if it was the wrong chest and this man was a stranger. She sniffed hard, the action drawing his scent deep into her lungs. He smelled like sweet grass and dust, a warm, earthy combination she associated with the barn back home. Beneath the barn scent was a hint of clean sweat and below that something uniquely masculine.

  It was an intimate smell, one that only a lover would know by heart, but it was familiar for some reason.

  Had Grace been with this man? Were they a couple? And if so, why had Grace felt so hopeless when at least one person seemed to care very much if she lived or died?

  Lily didn’t know—she didn’t have access to anything but Grace’s final thoughts—but it felt good to be in this man’s arms. To be safe.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled the warm, dependable smell of him again, wishing they never had to move past this moment. She wanted to stay just like this, lost in the illusion of safety, being held by someone who felt like home.

  But of course, he wasn’t home. And he wasn’t safe.

  The woman who had sent her back to earth had given Lily few instructions, but she had made four things crystal clear:

  Lily wouldn’t have long to change the course of fate. The man she had been sent to save was close to taking his own life and she must work quickly to prevent the worst from happening.

  She could use whatever measures she thought best, including telling the man the truth, though people in his position usually had a hard time believing anyone was on their side, especially a soul sent from beyond the veil.

  There would be no confusion about who she was here for. Her charge would be the first person she encountered.

  There would be no painful distractions. Lily wouldn’t remember who she had been before. She would only recall that she was a soul from the other side, sent to do good work for a man in desperate need. Only when her work was finished and she returned to the in-between would she remember that she had once been Lily Lawson.

  But I do remember, Lily thought, fresh tears slipping from her eyes to soak into the stranger’s already damp tee shirt.

  She remembered everything: from her middle name—Grace, just like this girl’s first name—and her age on the day she was murdered to the look on her husband’s face when he said “I do” to Persephone, the woman he’d married nine months after Lily’s death.

  Lily had been in the room that day in December, lingering in the air at the back of the small church, her spirit thin and tired of haunting the earthly plane. But she’d needed to see the ceremony. She had to look into John’s and Percy’s eyes and see for herself that John had found a love that would last the rest of this life. And she had. She’d seen that they were happy together, said goodbye to John and their beautiful sons, and drifted away, not expecting to return to the mortal world again.

  But now here she was, in a new body, with arms that could wrap around two little boys and hold them tight. She had a voice Carter and Peyton could hear and she couldn’t imagine passing up a chance to tell her sons that they would always be loved, no matter where her soul went next or in what body it resided.

  “Why don’t we get some coffee. My treat,” the man drawled, patting her gently between her shoulders. “Talking’s always easier over coffee.”

  Lily swallowed and reluctantly lifted her head from his chest. “That sounds nice.”

  It didn’t sound nice. She didn’t want coffee; she wanted to jump the first bus to Lonesome Point and not stop until she was standing on her old front porch, listening to her sons come stampeding through the house, racing each other to the front door. She had made peace with the end of what she and John had shared, but she could never make peace with not being there for the boys. She needed to see them again, needed it so badly her bones ached with the longing to hold them.

  But that wasn’t why she was here.

  She was here for this man and the sooner she learned what he needed from her, the sooner she would be able to find a way to reach her sons. The poor man could heal as well in Lonesome Point as anywhere else. She had no idea how she was going to convince him to take a trip to a tiny Texas town in the middle of nowhere, but she would do it.

  She’d died and come back from the other side. After that, she should be able to heal a broken-hearted cowboy with one hand tied behind her back.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Canyon

  All the way down the elevator and across the parking lot to the Dunkin’ Donuts tacked on to the gas station, Canyon was torn between relief that he’d seen Grace in time and feeling like the world’s biggest hypocrite.

  Who was he to talk her out of taking her own life when he planned to do the same thing in a week’s time?

  But it’s different for her. No matter what drove her up to that ledge, it isn’t worth dying over. She’s just a kid, with her whole life ahead of her.

  He knew Grace was in her early twenties, but looking at her now, in her cutoff jean shorts, white tank top, and spotless tennis shoes, she looked maybe eighteen. Maybe.

  It made him feel a little creepy to be walking into the donut shop with his arm around her shoulders. He’d jus
t turned thirty, but years of riding hard and spending more than his fair share of time in the sun had aged him. He looked older than thirty, and so much harder than this pretty girl with her blond curls and baby face.

  “Any donuts with that?” The sullen, freckle-faced teenager manning the cash register set their coffees down on the counter.

  “One bear claw and two of the pink donuts with sprinkles on top,” Canyon said, sliding Grace’s coffee her way.

  “Thanks.” She leaned in to take the cup, glancing down at his wallet as he pulled out a ten dollar bill. “Meriwether. Did I know that was your middle name?”

  “No,” he said, flipping his wallet closed. “And you still don’t. That’s classified information.”

  She hummed as she nodded. “Your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that you like pink donuts with sprinkles, either.”

  He glanced down at her, surprised by the joke. “The donuts were for you, but if you prefer the bear claw that’s fine. I’m secure enough in my manhood to eat pink donuts.”

  “Just not secure enough to let the world know you’re named after a fairy.”

  Canyon stuffed his change in his pocket and collected the bag of sweets. “I’m not named after a fairy. It’s a family name. One of my mom’s ancestors who came over on the Mayflower. For someone who’s spent sixty years living in a trailer park, she’s awfully pretentious.”

  “That’s what they all say,” Grace said, sliding into a booth near the window overlooking the exit ramp to the highway.

  He smiled as he claimed the seat across from her. “Fine, you got me. I’m named after a fairy. Now you know my dark secret. What about you?”

  Grace’s grin faltered. “I don’t know. I’ve got a secret here or there I guess. Nothing too dark.” She reached into the bag between them, pulling out the bear claw and sitting it on a napkin in front of her, proving she hadn’t been joking about sticking him with the pink donuts. “Though I guess that’s hard to believe, considering what you just saw.”

  Canyon nodded slowly, feeling uncomfortable, but knowing waiting wasn’t going to make this conversation any easier. He needed to get to the heart of what was going on with Grace and figure out if it was safe to leave her alone or if he needed to take her somewhere to get help.

  He knew there were places you could take kids in trouble. He might be able to find her a women’s shelter or something and avoid a trip to the psych ward. His buddy Ray had ended up in the psych ward after his third divorce and said it was one of the scariest, most depressing places he’d ever set foot in.

  Obviously Grace didn’t need anything else to bring her down.

  “I don’t presume to know your business,” he said gently, “but it was a shock. Seeing you up there. You always had such a pretty smile when you brought me supper at the diner. I assumed things must be going okay for you.”

  “Customer service face,” Grace said with a wry twist of her lips. “You’ve got to have one. Otherwise, you’d stare daggers through the jerks when they get seated in your section.”

  “Hope I’m not one of the jerks,” he said, feeling bad for not taking the time to really see the girl who’d waited on him for the past week. “Otherwise I must have made you pretty miserable, considering how often I ate at the truck stop.”

  “No, you’re not one of the jerks.” Grace shook her head, her blond curls bobbing gently around her face, reminding him of how soft they’d felt beneath his hand. “You’re very nice and I’m grateful. For what you did. I didn’t…”

  She took a breath and let it out through pursed lips. “I honestly don’t know what was going through my head. I think a lot of things just caught up with me all at once.”

  “What kind of things?”

  Her gaze dropped to her coffee cup. “I don’t know,” she said before adding in a softer voice, “Loneliness is the worst of it, I guess. I don’t have any family and went through a bad breakup not long ago. Since then I moved and I’ve been working so much I haven’t had time to make any friends. So I’ve been lonely. And sad. And wondering if I’ll ever not be lonely and sad.”

  Canyon reached across the table, taking one of her hands. He’d never touched Grace before tonight, but it had felt right to hold her on the roof and it felt right to reach out to her now.

  Sometimes there is nothing you can do but take someone’s hand and let them know you understand what they’re going through.

  “I hear you,” he said. “I get lonely and sad, too.”

  “What do you do to make it go away?” she asked, fingers curling around his.

  “Go to the gym, take a run,” he said. “Or head down to the ring and find a practice bull to ride. Nothing like a few tons of bull bucking beneath you to push everything out of your head for a while.”

  “So you ride bulls?” she asked, peering up at him through her lashes.

  “I ride the circuit. That’s why I was in town this week. Just finished up with the San Antonio rodeo last night.”

  Finished up with his career while he was at it, but no need for Grace to know about that. The less said about his situation, the better.

  “But when I’m at home in Austin, I like to grab a yoga class whenever I can,” he continued. “That helps too. Really clears all the crap away and gets you back to just remembering how to breathe. You ever take yoga?”

  Grace tilted her head to one side, considering him. “No, I haven’t. But I like that you have.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because it’s sweet,” she murmured. “A bull rider named Meriwether, who takes yoga, saves women in trouble, and eats pink donuts. Someone should write a song about you.”

  “The name’s Canyon,” he said, flustered by the compliment.

  “I know,” she said, bringing her fingers to wrap around his thumb, her hand so tiny all four of her fingers could line up in a row between his joint and the end of his thumb. “And I know you don’t have it as together as you would like me to believe, Canyon.”

  His hand curled into a fist. “Is that right?”

  “It is,” she said, strength in her voice he hadn’t heard before. “So why don’t you stop trying to save me and give it to me straight. What do you really do when the sad and the lonely refuses to go away?”

  Canyon held her gaze, his chest tightening as the silence stretched between them. For the first time, he noticed the intelligence in her soft brown eyes and the core of steel beneath her pretty face. There was more to Grace than he’d imagined, more depth, more heart, and more pain. He could see that too, a pain as deep and wide as his, though she was still struggling to stay on top of it, fighting to stay on the surface instead of giving in and sinking like a stone.

  He’d realized Grace was pretty the first time he’d laid eyes on her—she looked like an angel with those blond curls and big brown eyes set in skin as pale as porcelain—but he’d never been aware of her in the way a man is aware of a woman. He hadn’t been aware of many women that way since he and Reilly divorced, but those he had were much older and less innocent than the pretty young thing sitting across from him.

  His misery loved company and he looked for women who wanted the same thing he did: release and an easy goodbye. He wasn’t interested in love or passion. Sex was a biological urge he satisfied when the need grew too great and hated himself for immediately after. He didn’t deserve pleasure, but there were nights when he couldn’t help reaching for something to ease the ache.

  But he refused to reach for this girl. It didn’t matter that something inside of him was sitting up and taking notice of a woman in a way it hadn’t in years. He wouldn’t be good for Grace. She needed a friend, not a one-night stand, and he wasn’t in the position to offer a woman in his bed more than that.

  He tried to pull his hand from hers, but she held tight.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said. “So I have a proposition for you.”

  “No,” he said, his voice rough.

  “You haven’t heard wha
t it is yet,” she said, undeterred. She leaned in, eyes shining. “I think we should get away from it all for a while. We could head north and find a cute little town to rest up in for a few days. I bet if we put our heads together we can figure out something better than yoga or bull-riding to take the sad away. Bet it would be good for both of us.”

  “I don’t think so, Grace,” Canyon repeated, gently prying her fingers from his thumb. “You’re a beautiful girl, but I’m not in a place for a relationship or anything else.”

  She laughed as she picked up her bear claw. “Who said anything about a relationship or anything else, Meriwether? That was a friendly proposition, not an X-rated one. You know men and women can be friends, right?”

  Heat crept up his neck. “My apologies. Guess I misunderstood.”

  “Darn right you did,” she said, taking a bite of her pastry. “I’m offended, but you can make it up to me on the road by giving me control of the radio. I’ve already quit my job so I’m ready to leave when you are.”

  He shook his head, unable to keep the smile from his face. “Anyone ever tell you you’re trouble, Grace?”

  “All the time,” she said. “But I’m not. I’m just bossy and bad at taking no for an answer. So don’t say no, say yes, and let’s go have some fun. Bare minimum, we won’t be lonely for a few days, and it doesn’t seem like either of us has much but loneliness to lose.”

  Canyon took a bite of his pink donut, surprised to find the icing was strawberry flavored and a lot tastier than he’d thought it would be. If he’d known how tasty, in fact, he would have ordered it instead of the bear claw. He had no idea what was best when it came to donuts. Maybe he suffered from the same lack of vision when it came to sad, beautiful girls.

  And Grace was certainly right: he had nothing left to lose. As long as she had no expectations of him aside from friendship and conversation, why shouldn’t she tag along on his trip?

  “All right, you can come with me,” he said, holding up a hand to stop her when she opened her mouth. “As long as you’re okay with camping. I’ve already got a reservation for a spot at Big Bend for the next week.”