Heart of Grace (Return to Grace Trilogy Book 1)

by Abigail Easton

  “There’ll be no one willing to buy it, Angie. The arena hasn’t turned a profit in more than five years.”

  “I understand the arena’s in poor shape financially. That’ll make things difficult, but not impossible. I’m sure I can find an investor or two willing to-”

  “If you’ve already decided what you’re going to do, why come to me about all of this?” Cole asked.

  “The attorney told me very little over the phone. I didn’t know you managed the arena until I got here. I was surprised.” Surprised you would work for Henry after all that happened. “I want to work with you, make you a part of the process, rather than doing this without your cooperation.” She took a step toward him, her voice going as soft as his eyes were hard. “The arena was important to me at one time, too.”

  “And now?”

  She looked over his shoulder at the dark storm clouds. The rain fell hard and steady; it would probably last through the night. Storms often lingered in Grace. “Now is now, and the past is the past,” she said simply, her voice losing the last remnants of a businesslike edge. “I do intend to sell it.”

  “Well, there you may have a problem on your hands.”

  “There isn’t much you can do about it, Cole. Once I get the list of stockholders – and I will get that list – I will begin this process,” she said sternly, her back up and ready for debate.

  “Oh, I’ll give you the list myself.” He lifted his chin, prepared to defend what was his. “It begins and ends with me, darlin’.”

  Four

  Angela stared at him rigidly for three full seconds. “Partners? You and Henry were partners?”

  “About eight years ago your daddy did much the same thing you wanna to do,” Cole explained. “He broke up his stock, fixing to sell most of it off, keeping just enough to collect the dividends. He wanted the money from it, not any real control. I couldn’t let that control go to corporate types – no offense – or worse, to the oil coalition. They’ve been after that land for decades and Henry didn’t care much about what they’d do to this town if they got their greedy mitts on it. So I bought half of the shares. It forced a partnership. He didn’t want me to have control, at least not unless he had some too. He always hated me and he’d’ve skinned his own hide to keep me from taking it.”

  She stood in gridlock, unable to form her thoughts into words. The ice that had been in his eyes just moments earlier melted into amusement. He strolled to the desk and pulled a document out of the drawer.

  She took the partnership agreement from him. He leaned close enough for her to take in his scent. She had expected him to stink like the ranch hands had stunk, but he smelled of fresh dirt and hay after a rain. She allowed herself the luxury of looking up from the papers and into his eyes, and instantly wished she hadn’t. Her betraying heart thumped three beats hard and fast against her ribs.

  “Are you wanting me to buy your half?” he asked.

  Relief and despair, and a thousand other emotions threatened to submerge her. Before she could decide which one held the most credence, she caught the apology in his eyes. “Something tells me it won’t be that easy.”

  “The thing is, I’m using all I have to keep both the ranch and the arena going day by day.” Cole sighed. “If it wasn’t for my rodeo winnings they’d both be sunk. I got nothing extra, Angie. I can’t afford to buy your half.”

  “Of course not, heaven forbid this godforsaken task should be easy.” She pursed her lips and finished flipping through the agreement, then handed the papers back to him. “It looks like a fairly basic agreement. I’ve seen this before. I’ll need a copy of the financials for the last five years and we’ll have to get an appraisal. I’d like to see what can be done to increase its perceived value, if not the actual value, to make it more desirable to investors.”

  “I never would have thought it,” Cole said quietly. He brushed a section of hair behind her ear. Her skin warmed at his touch. “Shy and reserved little Angie is now a New York tycoon.”

  She took his hand, either to stop him from touching her again, or to keep him there –she wasn’t sure which, but she knew it was a test for them both. The heat flared in his eyes, turning them as dark as the storm clouds outside. His hand tightened its hold on hers and she felt the pulse scrambling beneath his skin.

  A strand of panic shot through her. She pushed away, her breath shallow.

  Cole sucked in a sharp breath and stepped back.

  “I’m not sure what arrangements you and my father made,” Angela began as she moved toward the door. “However, you can be assured that I have no wish to enter into a partnership with you, Cole.” She stopped and turned in the doorway. “ Any type of partnership.”

  “Angie.” He followed her through the house. She collected her shoes and her briefcase, and then walked out the door to the front porch, where he caught up to her and pulled her around harshly.

  “I’m sorry.” The gentle words betrayed his abrasive hold on her arm.

  Angela watched his eyes as they searched her face. The deep blue softened degree by degree. He eased his grip and stepped back.

  “I have to go.”

  Cole looked through the pouring rain. “That may be a bit of a problem.”

  “I’m not going to stand here arguing with you.”

  “Are we arguing?” He frowned. “The wash is probably flooded by now. No passage.”

  Angela turned sharply and she saw that, indeed, the driveway was practically swallowing her car. A river flowed beyond it, reaching across the road and toward the wash. “I don’t suppose you have a boat I can borrow?”

  “No, sorry.” Cole led her into the house and closed the door, muffling the sound of the battering rain.

  “You may not want to be partners, Angie. But it looks like we’re roommates for the night.” He shrugged. “No way around that.”

  “If you hadn’t avoided our conversation,” she said, letting the bite into her voice, “I’d have gotten out of here before the storm hit.”

  “What’s the rush? This isn’t New York, Angie.”

  “I shouldn’t have come.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  “Why?”

  His gaze shifted to her lips.

  Memories streamed in of a summer afternoon by the pond, cicadas chirping in the trees and tiny bugs dancing on the surface of the water. She and Cole, both seventeen, had stood at the edge of the old dock, the same distance apart as they stood now. He had kissed her amidst the filtered sunlight, his lips warm and his hand at her jaw. For a moment it had been a dream come true. After years of chasing the boy, she had finally ended up in his arms. But then he had pulled away and the warmth in his eyes faded. He’d stared at her coldly, as if she were the vilest thing he had ever touched.

  He lifted his eyes to hers now. “I’ll offer you a warm bed and a roof for the night, some breakfast in the morning. As a friend to a friend. We’ll leave the rest for later.”

  Angela watched him walk away, her stomach weightless. Her lips trembled when she drew in a breath. She had not planned to see him, and she certainly did not want to involve herself with him, nor to remember the things that had happened a lifetime ago. Closing her eyes as the thunder rumbled, she thought of the river of water blocking her retreat.

  She wondered if heaven was having a laugh at her expense. ****

  Mist from last night’s storm hung low over the mountaintops, trapping Grace in merciless humidity. Cole stood in the kitchen nook, the windows thrown wide open. The horses grazed greedily on wet grass. He watched his sable mare, her glossy flanks and black mane glistening in streaks of sunlight breaking through the clouds. She had been sold to a rancher in Texas, and he felt the pride well in his chest. Soon he would have to say goodbye. That was the hardest part.

  A breeze wafted into the kitchen, carrying the scents of the ranch: wet grass, dirt and manure. It mingled with the aroma of fried eggs and bacon, reminding him of childhood. Some days he had come downstairs w
ith a rumbling tummy, only to find Angie seated at the table. Rather than share a meal with her, he had chosen to go out to the horses, pretending he hadn’t been hungry after all.

  Cole’s injured arm ached from the humidity. He ignored the pain and mulled over the details of the day. He would stay in Grace to deal with his land and the arena until the injury healed and the craving to compete consumed him again; then he’d be gone. He only hoped the craving would not precede the healing. Restlessness had a way of making a man forget himself.

  He heard Angie’s high heels click on the tiled floor before she entered the kitchen. She wore another suit, this one fresh and unwrinkled. She had pulled her hair into a long low ponytail; her gray-green eyes smudged with dark shadow and eyeliner. She was haunting; a leaner, sharper, more sophisticated version of the awkward girl he had known. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to draw her into his arms or make her wipe off all that makeup so he could see her freckles. Maybe both.

  “Breakfast?” he asked.

  “No, but thank you anyway.” She moved to the cupboard to take down two coffee mugs, remembering where they had always been. “I’ll just have some coffee, have you had yours yet?”

  “Not yet. Pot’s fresh brewed.”

  Nodding, Angie poured each of their cups and handed Cole’s to him. “Still like it black?” she asked.

  “Yep.” He smiled over the rim and took that first strong sip. It was such a simple thing for her to pour his coffee, but he knew by the tremble of her hand that it cost her plenty to appear so at ease.

  “Some storm last night,” Cole said.

  She offered a nod in agreement and wrapped her hands around the warm mug.

  “Angie,” he sighed. “I know this can’t be easy, coming back. But Henry’s dead.”

  She set the mug on the counter and met his eyes briefly before shifting to look over his shoulder. He wondered if she knew the emotions she had allowed him to view in that single glance.

  “That’s what the death certificate says,” she said at last.

  Not fooled by the coolness of her statement, Cole set down his coffee. He kept his distance when she pulled out a cell phone and tried to use it, not at all surprised when she turned it off and sighed.

  “It’ll work in town, but the tower doesn’t reach out this way.”

  “I see Grace is still as backwards as ever,” Angie muttered, tossing the phone back into her briefcase.

  Cole shrugged and stepped closer. He caught the faint smell of expensive perfume. It didn’t suit her. Nothing about Angela suited the Angie he had once known.

  She picked up the house phone.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She lifted the receiver to her ear. “Trying to find out if the roads are clear yet.”

  Cole took the receiver from her and gently returned it to the cradle. “It’s passable. Oliver and I checked it out this morning.”

  “Oliver? You still have him? He was just a colt when I left.”

  “Not much changes ‘round here, Ang. Just grows a bit.”

  “That is obvious.” She offered a sly smirk that he imagined had driven many a business man to his knees, and then she shouldered her briefcase as she moved toward the door.

  Cole glanced at the kitchen clock. “Where’re you going?”

  “Mr. Bradley’s office. I’ll notify you once I have all the details and we’ll go from there.”

  “It’s a bit early for a meeting, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve some errands to run.”

  “Or maybe some ghosts to chase?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Cole sighed. “The house is gone.”

  “Oh.”

  “He sold it to me a few years back and moved to town. I had a need for the land, not the house,” he said, “so I had it leveled. The thing should have been condemned, anyway. I thought your brother might have told you, but going by that look, I’m guessing he didn’t.”

  “Michael and I don’t talk much. It doesn’t matter. So the house is gone.” She shrugged. “Most of my happy memories came from here, from your father. I’m sorry I didn’t make it to his funeral.”

  “He would have known you’d stay away.”

  “Cole-”

  “He’d’ve wanted you to say goodbye.” Cole hooked his thumbs in his belt loop and looked to the ceiling, letting frustration and anger simmer. “After all the time he spent with you, and you couldn’t even pay your last respects.”

  “I couldn’t come back.” Angela looked away.

  “Yet, here you are. I suppose when there’s profit to be had it makes chasing those ghosts a bit easier.”

  She pressed her lips together and looked away.

  “You didn’t even say goodbye when you left Grace,” he said. “To any of us. You just walked away.”

  “Don’t you dare judge me, Cole.” She snapped her gaze to him, her eyes red with unshed tears. “You knew why I had to leave. And Doug knew it, too.”

  She turned and started out of the kitchen.

  “Angie,” he said, forcing his voice to soften.

  She stopped, but refused to turn around.

  “He didn’t know what it was like for you until it was too late to help.”

  “No one knew. Isn’t that right? Not even you?”

  He kept quiet. There was nothing to say; the accusation in her eyes said it all.

  “I’ll be in touch after my meeting,” she said coldly and walked out of the kitchen.

  Cole didn’t move until he heard the front door close. ****

  Angela stood where her father’s house used to be and wondered how many times she had awoken to mornings like this. Wind riffled the treetops, yet the air at ground level stilled, enveloping the land in a suffocating wet blanket.

  She paced in a circle and mused on the irony of the situation. That house had been his castle, and he had been king. He said he would always be king. Now he and the house were gone; even the foundation had been removed and the grass had already grown back over the tilled earth. It marked out a perfect square, the grass here softer than the rest of the lot, like the land over a recently dug grave.

  Like a grave, it served as a marker for the memories. They paced the forgotten land, banshees screaming all around her.

  When Angela started to remember, she looked toward the mountains on the horizon, as her mother had taught her to do when she had been prone to car sickness. “Just focus on something that doesn’t move; something steady.” When she thought she had escaped, and despite all her efforts at control, the memories crept in, anyway.

  Angela closed her eyes and shuddered.

  His breath stunk. The way it always did when he drank from the brown bottle. Mama was at the stove, her back turned, the apron tied above her rump in a messy bow. Angie ran, knowing there was nowhere to go. She just had to run. She had to try. She called for Mama as she bolted up the stairs, but Mama never came. She ran into her room and shrank into a corner. Papa barreled through the door. He yanked her up by the arm and he smiled. But she knew he wasn’t happy. His eyes were mad. She recoiled, bracing for the blow…

  A car drove by. Angela sucked in a greedy breath, grateful to be pulled from her reverie. It had been years since she let herself remember these things. They usually came to her in dreams, but as whispers that she could never recall in detail upon waking. This was too close. Too real.

  She walked off the lot and got back into her car. As she drove away, she did what she could to convince herself that the past was just as easily left behind.

  Five

  Angela stepped into the attorney’s office. A bell jingled and the door closed behind her. An older woman peeked over dozens of potted plants covering the reception area.

  “Angie,” the woman said, standing. “Angie Donnelly. Why, it is you, isn’t it?”

  “Mrs. Bradley.” Angela looked up at the woman. At a

  slender six feet, she towered over Angela’s five feet, four

  inches.
>
  “My dear, you don’t look at all like I remember you. You’re

  quite stunning, actually. Oh my,” Mrs. Bradley clucked her

  tongue when Angela blinked beneath this scrutiny. “I didn’t

  mean any offense. Still a bit shy, I see. That’s all right, dear.” Angela felt the heat rise from her neck to her hairline. She

  gestured to a closed door. “Is Mr. Bradley waiting for me?” “He’s finishing a call upstairs, but he’ll be down in a

  moment.” The older woman opened the door. “Cole just got

  here a few minutes ago.”

  “Cole?”

  Mrs. Bradley merely smiled, ushered Angela inside the

  room, and then shut the door at her back.

  Cole grinned up at Angela from his seat behind the lawyer’s

  desk, his feet propped beside Mr. Bradley’s keyboard. His good

  hand was tucked behind his neck.

  “What are you doing here?” Angela plopped her briefcase

  onto the desk.

  “Don’t make me argue with you darlin’. I guarantee you’ll

  lose and I don’t like taking victory over a lady.”

  She stood firm. “This is my business, Cole. And it’s personal

  business. I will discuss the details with you later. There’s no

  reason for you to be here. I’m asking that you leave now.” “Can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Mr. Bradley asked me to be here, too. Since I was your

  daddy’s partner, and apparently now your partner, it seems

  fitting he wanted us both here, doesn’t it? This affects us both.

  I didn’t know we’d be meeting with him together until I

  showed up a few minutes ago. I’m just as surprised as you are.

  I thought I was just going to sign some papers.”

  He countered her frown with a deliberate smile. “I’m so sorry for the delay,” Mr. Bradley said as he rushed

  into the office, his head bent as he sifted through a stack of

  files tucked into the crook of his arm. He was a short, thin man

  with a pointy nose and glasses that seemed intent on escaping