Grace

by Chris Keniston

"ICU. Stable. The next forty-eight hours will tell." DJ shook his head. "His mother called me. He's surrounded by family."

  Tears welled in her eyes. "Good. Good. He shouldn't be alone." Some of the color returned to her cheeks.

  To Chase, the grip on his hand eased away in what felt oddly like slow motion. Blinking, Grace lifted her chin, muttered “damn war,” and walked out of the room, pausing in his line of sight to the kitchen to kiss her aunt on the cheek, and continued walking away. An overwhelming need to follow her and somehow wash away her pain pulsed forcefully through his veins, but none of this was any of his business.

  "One of us should go after her," Adam said, his gaze shifting to the others in the room.

  The younger brother Finn shook his head. "She's off to see Princess. Give her a few minutes."

  Brooks and their father nodded and Adam turned to DJ. "What about you, man? You okay?"

  "I will be." DJ's fiancée sidled up beside him, her hand about his waist. "I knew he was having a hard time. The tone of his voice. Nothing specific he said, more what he didn't say."

  "Maybe you should go?" Concern shone in Becky's gaze.

  DJ shook his head. "I'd only be in the way. His family is what he needs."

  "Are you sure?" Becky leaned against him.

  "Yeah." DJ nodded. "Yeah, I am."

  "I should…” Chase looked at the solemn faces and remembered the tears in Grace's eyes. "Take a rain check, head back to the—"

  "No." Sean Farraday pushed to his feet. "In happiness and sadness, family and friends are meant to be together."

  Beyond any doubt, Chase was not family, but unlike the lip service of big cities, he knew these folks truly did consider him a friend, and with only a few words, he didn't feel like an intruder any more.

  The family patriarch turned to the youngest son and nodded.

  Finn bobbed his head, and looked to Chase. "Now would be a good time to tour the barn. You up to it?"

  "If you are." An hour ago he'd been anxious to see the set up, learn about tack and feed and how the operation ran. Now, he just wanted to make sure a woman he barely knew was okay.

  ***

  "The good guys aren't supposed to lose." Grace pulled another carrot treat out from her pocket for her favorite horse before running her hand down the front of Princess' nose. It made no sense that horses understood people better than humans, but the good ones always did, and Grace couldn't imagine life without the great horses like Princess. Growing up, especially in her teen years, she'd spent many a night out in the barn talking to a horse whose only response was a nudge with its muzzle and a blink from understanding eyes. Hurt feelings and broken hearts always mended more easily after a girls' gab session with Princess. Though she’d need a lot more than a visit to the stable to erase the ache pressing at her chest.

  Since Dale’s break-up with Grace’s roommate Denise, she hadn’t seen as much of him, but she missed the late night bull sessions on life, law school and the general immaturity of the male college student. She didn't want to consider he might not make it. The waste of it all had her wanting to kick the oat pail across the barn. Scream at the powers that be who brought a good man back from a damn war and then expected him to carry on as though he’d come home from a ride in the spring countryside.

  Perked ears and then one leaning left alerted Grace to the arrival of other people. Princess could hear a mouse in the dog pens before the dogs. She wasn't ready to talk to her family. If anything, they'd think she was overreacting. DJ was the one they should worry about. He and Dale had crossed paths in the Marines and then bonded on the Dallas police department. She should stop throwing a pity party and go check on him. "You be a good girl. I'll come back soon. Promise."

  The horse flicked its head up and down, wiggled her lips in what Grace knew was a silent scolding of "you'd better make damn sure" and then poked at her pocket for one last treat.

  "Okay." Leaning into Princess' neck, Grace gave another quick hug and pushed away, opening the gate and stepping into the dimly lit center aisle.

  "There you are." Finn and Chase were coming at the open doorway to the tack room. "We were just discussing the choices for senior dog food. If he stocked something of a higher caliber than old man Thomas did, maybe more of us would stock up rather than be cooking for the dogs."

  Grace nodded. "Good dog is better than a good ranch hand. Wouldn't feed a good ranch hand bread and water."

  "Makes sense." Chase glanced to the back of the tack room. Whether he was calculating the costs of readjusting his dog food inventory or taking stock of items he recognized and sold, Grace couldn't tell, but she was positive the man's mind was clicking away and filing data. A smart mind. Though she had to wonder what a smart man was doing setting up business in Tuckers Bluff. A business he clearly knew next to nothing about.

  The whizzing sound of a text message filled the small room. Finn pulled his phone from his belt loop, pressed his lips tightly, swiped his finger around the screen then looked up. "Dad's circling the wagons. Wants Connor at supper and he's not answering the phone."

  "Do you think it's Stacy?" Grace did not want to think the worst, but life had proven statistics were not always in the Farraday favor.

  "I think he's set his phone down somewhere and is either off reading stories to his daughter or making love to his wife."

  "I did not need to hear that." Grace rolled her eyes. She didn't care who was married, she didn’t want to go anywhere near what her brothers did with their free time. The only thing that made her almost chuckle was the way Chase blinked before looking to Grace and back and smothering a smile. So the city boy had a little southern gentleman in him.

  "I'd better run over and check out what's going on." Finn turned to Chase. "You want to come with me or do you want to wait back at the house? Or," he spun about toward Grace, "you want to show him the rest of the area? Remember the things we have to order special?"

  "I do and I can." A good distraction would work well for her about now.

  Finn looked to Chase. "That good with you?"

  "I'm flexible."

  Grace moved closer to her brother and the newest member of the community. "Let me know if we're needed inside or if Catherine needs help with Stacey."

  "Will do." Finn turned and trotted out the barn.

  "Is he going to walk over?"

  Shaking her head, Grace dragged her gaze away from Finn and her thoughts away from Connor and DJ. "It's close but not if there's a hurry. He'll probably drive the truck over."

  "Got it." Chase looked at the walls of the tack room and back. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  She sucked in a long slow breath. “So am I. He’s one of the good guys.”

  “You two were close?” Chase slid his hands into his pockets. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

  “That’s okay.” She leaned against the wall. “We were friends.”

  He nodded, but she could see what he thought in his eyes.

  “Just friends,” she explained. “When DJ came back to Tuckers Bluff he asked Dale to keep an eye on me. As if having six brothers wasn’t enough. Suddenly I had seven.” She chuckled softly. “I only saw him once every few months at first and then he met my roommate Denise.”

  “They hit it off?” Chase smiled. She liked the way it made his eyes twinkle.

  “Like fire and kindling. I got to see quite a bit of him for over a year. After they broke up he still kept his word. We’d have dinner or a drink almost every month, but by then it wasn’t such a chore.” She shrugged and blinked back the tears. “Don’t tell anyone I said so, but it was kind of nice having a seventh brother.”

  “Maybe you can tell him yourself.” Chase stretched out his hand and swiped at the single tear that escaped down her cheek, and then he quickly stepped back, sliding his hands back in his pocket. “When he’s feeling better, that is.”

  “Right.” She pushed away from the wall and muttered, “Better.”

  “Hey.” He looked
to reach for her again and then, as though thinking better of it, let his hand fall to his side. “Don’t give up on him.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m not.” Even if the odds didn’t seem to be in his favor, she had to believe Dale would get through this and snap out of whatever was going on in his head. She tried for a reassuring smile and with a brief nod to cement her decision, she gestured toward the far wall, returning to the job she’d been given. “As you can see, this is the tack room.”

  In a nod to her efforts, Chase smiled and cast his gaze around the room. "I'm pleased to say I think I know what most of this stuff is." Taking a couple of steps, he picked up a small pair of work gloves. "I don't stock these."

  Grace shook her head. "They're for Stacey. She doesn't really spend much time here anymore, but no, Thomas never stocked gloves that small."

  Lips pressed tightly, his head bobbed. "And you're not the only rancher who let their young children help out, are you?"

  "Family business. We all learn young."

  "Including you?"

  "Including me. Ranching isn't very sexist."

  "No." He put the gloves down with a smile. "So I'm learning."

  Leading him down the hall, she returned the grin. "And now you know what a rancher will keep on hand and how much." She moved to another door and pushed it open. "We've got an extra storage area for things we might go through more quickly. Not everyone has enough room for that sort of thing."

  Chase nodded. She could see his mind doing mental math again. This guy would be so easy to pick apart in court.

  Brows furrowed suddenly, he pointed to the back side of the storage room. The guy had spotted her old colored show harnesses. "Did Thomas special order those?"

  "Nope. Ordered 'em online."

  "They're yours?" A grin replaced the deep-set concentration of a moment ago.

  "They were."

  "You don't use them anymore?"

  "I don't have time."

  His expression shifted in thought again.

  "Four years away at college. Three years in Dallas for law school," she answered the unasked question.

  "What about summers?"

  She shook her head. "In college I worked at the presidential conference center."

  Those brows uncurled as his eyes widened with surprise. "Political aspirations?"

  "Not a lick, but it looks good on a resume, whether I stuck with law or not."

  "And you did."

  "Always knew I was going to do law school. Law," she cocked her head, "not so much."

  Those brows formed a V again. "Why would you go to law school if you don't want to practice law?"

  "Maybe you're not as smart as you look." The cocky grin that spread across his face made her wish she hadn't paid him a complement, even an underhanded one. "I grew up in a small town where a big trip meant going to Houston or Dallas and success always came with the smell of cut hay or manure. When one of the Bradys decided to start a vineyard, the way the town carried on anyone would have thought he'd committed high treason."

  "I guess in ranch country a vineyard is a bit of a stretch."

  "And isn't that what living is all about? Stretching our limits, our boundaries?"

  Chase's head tipped from side to side. "Maybe. And maybe boundaries are just a state of mind?"

  "You sound like my dad." Grace led the way toward the larger stalls for birthing and sick animals. "This stall is for our expectant horses or animals that need extra care. And here," she pointed to a few cattle pens, "is where we'll put the expectant cows."

  "I thought ranch animals were just born out on the fields."

  "Pastures." Grace shrugged. "We separate the expectant cows from the others. At night we put the ones we think are close in the barn. Especially first calf heifers as we may have to help them by pulling their calf."

  "Oh." To Chase's credit he hid his flinch well.

  Turning back toward the front, Grace paused at Princess' stall to scratch her nose. "I'm all out of treats. You ate them before."

  The horse pressed into her hand and Chase came forward. "May I?"

  "Sure. Princess is as sweet as they come."

  Slowly Chase came at Princess from the side so she'd see him and stroked her down her jawline. "You really are a sweet one. And big."

  "She's midsized for a quarter horse. If you want to see big you should see the draft horses. Those suckers could pull the Budweiser wagon."

  "No thank you. This is plenty big for me." His attention shifted from Princess to Grace. "I gather she's your horse?"

  Grace nodded.

  "The one the bright harness was for?"

  "That was a long time ago." Sometimes she felt like riding and racing had been the memory of another person's life.

  "Yes," he agreed. "I get you've been busy. No time. But do you still ride her?"

  Pushing away from the gate, she rubbed Princess one more time. "Not really. We'd better get moving. There's a lot to show you still."

  Chase patted the horse the way she had and then followed on her heels. "It's obvious you love your horse. Why don't you ride her any more?"

  "It's not like I haven't gotten on her to help out at some point or other if I'm home. But it's been a while. Like I said, my life isn't wrapped up in this little world anymore."

  "Right. Stretching boundaries."

  "Exactly."

  Stepping ahead of her to slide the barn door open, Chase shrugged. "The grass is always greener."

  "This is different."

  Chase shrugged. "If you say so."

  Didn't she do just that? Soon she'd have DJ’s wedding behind her and she could focus all her time on studying for the bar. With a shiny new JD after her name and a passing grade on the bar exam, the world would be hers to enjoy. A world without fences, or livestock, or literal bull shit.

  Chapter Six

  Any other time and the irony of his and Grace's lives would have given Chase a good laugh. Everything she was running away from was exactly what he'd been dreaming of since the first time his dad and he had sat side by side on the sofa with a big bowl of butter- and cheese-sprinkled popcorn to watch a marathon of the Andy Griffith Show.

  Only in his case, the grass truly was greener. Or at least yellow. With the exception of Central Park, which he never had time to frequent, concrete made up the better part of the Manhattan landscape.

  "Where to now?" he asked.

  "I'd better take you back to the house and see what Dad has in mind. If he wants me to walk you through saddling a horse, something else, or wants us all back. Though it makes more sense for you to do it all, saddle, ride, and clean up. Then you'll get a real feel for all the bits and pieces."

  "I might have time later this week."

  "Oh?" She tilted her head to the side and with one eye closed, looked up at him. Her tone of voice held amused awareness.

  He bit back his own smile. "Just before church this morning I had a few minutes to speak with Andy the funeral director."

  "Really?" The humor in her voice spread to a broad smile.

  "You were right. He's interested in part time work." He shouldn't, but he liked the way her eyes lit up with satisfaction. "We had a nice discussion before we were interrupted. I think he'll be a big help, making it easier for me to maneuver through new territory."

  "Keep you from sorting by color?" She didn't even try to muffle the soft chuckle that came with the bright grin.

  Man, he liked the way her eyes sparkled when she teased. "Something like that."

  "Sounds like a good idea." Approaching the back porch, her footsteps slowed as voices from inside grew louder.

  Chase found himself standing a little closer than he normally would, hoping she might reach out and grab his hand again the way she had earlier, even if he strongly suspected she hadn't realized she'd been holding onto him at the time. Coming out of her father's office, the apprehension in her gaze at her brother's approach and the pain that had replaced it from the impact of his words stru
ck Chase surprisingly hard. Since Grace had made no mention of reaching out for him later on, back in the barn, even with no one else but the horses to eavesdrop, he suspected her actions had been driven by sheer shock of the moment. Hell, he'd been as grateful for the human contact and he barely knew this family, and hadn't known the victim at all.

  Now, seeing the intensity of her gaze on the back door, he was tempted to offer his hand to steady her steps. Not that they needed steadying. Not now and especially not in a few weeks when she returned to her big-city plans. And there was another reason why he had no business contemplating anything about Grace Farraday. He had a huge task ahead of him. A proving grounds of sorts and he couldn't afford any distractions. Then again, if he'd followed the rules all these years, the last place he'd be is on the back porch of a sprawling cattle ranch daydreaming about holding hands with a pretty girl.

  "Everyone seems more animated," Grace added, focusing on the snippets of conversations coming from the house.

  He couldn't argue with her there. Grace Farraday was clearly a woman of many talents. Too bad for him those talents weren't planning on making themselves at home in Tuckers Bluff.

  The kitchen door opened and the unexpected sounds of dishes clattering, people bustling about, bathed with the occasional chuckle, burst into the open.

  Grace's face scrunched with confusion and then her gaze landed across the room. In a flash she bolted inside as though someone had lit firecrackers in her shoes. "Hannah!" The two women collided in a clench worthy of a sappy greeting card commercial.

  "What are you doing here?" Grace stepped out of the hug.

  "Jamie mentioned he had a few days off and wanted to pop by since he missed the last wedding." Hannah eased back another step. "I had a couple of last minute cancellations so I decided to tag along."

  “Well, whatever the reason, I am so glad you're here." Grace turned to face him. "Let me introduce you to the new feed store owner. Chase Prescott, this is my cousin Hannah Farraday."

  "Nice to meet you." Chase accepted Hannah's proffered hand. "I gather you guys don't live close."

  "Actually," Grace started, but both did a girly giggle he wouldn't have expected from Grace, "we live about thirty minutes apart, but apparently to actually see each other we have to travel halfway across Texas."