Grace

by Chris Keniston

  "Is that what we'll be doing?"

  "Nope. We're going to saddle the horses, load them into the trailer, then ride out to one of the pastures with the expectant cows and see if there's any signs of trouble."

  His first thought was that he wouldn't recognize a cow in distress if it sat on his head, but then he got the distinct feeling there was more to her words than simply a pregnant cow with heartburn. "Something in particular we're looking for?"

  Tilting her head slightly to one side, she studied him for a few long seconds. "You really are pretty smart." She turned on her heel and led him to the empty kitchen and out the back door the way he'd gone the other day. "The numbers aren't adding up."

  He followed her into the barn and tack room, and waited for more information.

  "Not big numbers, and someone could have counted wrong any number of times, but it looks like we're short a few calves."

  "Cattle rustling?" He thought that was a thing that went out with gunslingers and saloon girls.

  "Maybe."

  Carefully he watched Grace explain each piece of gear as she piled his arms high with harnesses, bits, cinches, blankets, and every other little thing needed to saddle a horse. She'd balked when he insisted on carrying the saddles out to the mounting post, but stood her ground when he tried to set it on the horse's back.

  "I know you think I can't handle it, but I've been saddling my own horse since I was ten and at this moment if you drop it down too heavily you can do way more harm to the horse than lifting this saddle could possibly do to me."

  And as though the thing was as light as a feather, she lifted the saddle up and over the horse's back and set it down, nice and easy. Not slow and careful, just easy. An ease that had clearly come with years of practice. "Nice."

  Grace nodded and began moving straps around. "Come here," she said to him. "You don't want it too tight, but you don't want it so loose that it will slide around and the rider finds himself under the horse instead of on it."

  He wasn't sure if she was serious or not, but he did as he was told. With the same gentle ease she'd approached the horse with, she took hold of his hand and he had to bite down on his back teeth to keep from reacting to her touch. For a half a second, the way her eyes latched onto his, he thought maybe, maybe this time she'd felt the unusual connection, but without hesitating, she slid his hand under the horse’s belly and maneuvered his other hand to tug on the strap.

  "See?"

  Not trusting himself to avoid saying something stupid, like how soft her hands were, or how nice her perfume smelled, he simply nodded.

  At the next horse she stood at his side directing him if he forgot a step, but not once did she touch him again. Had he been right? Had she felt the warming heat? Or was he just indulging his night-time fantasies? Literally shaking his head clear of things he had no business thinking, they finished saddling up the second horse in no time.

  Hanging onto the lead, he followed Grace and her horse to where a large trailer was parked. "We're not going to just ride the horses to where the cows are?"

  "If we were going to a closer pasture we would. But Finn asked me to check one closer to the south road—"

  "South road?"

  "The other side of the ranch. We've got somewhere around 100,000 acres. That's lots of land to cross and we don't need to wear out the horses if we don't have to."

  "And we don't have to."

  "Exactly."

  Chase suspected had he needed to load the horses on his own he'd still be standing here tugging and persuading the huge animals to head up the ramp. When Grace did it the whole thing looked so easy.

  "Don't feel bad. Ace is smart. He's just testing out the greenhorn."

  "Why doesn't that make me feel any better?"

  For the first time since they'd entered the barn she grinned at him, doing a pretty good job of not laughing in his face. The tension that had risen up his spine and settled in his shoulders since the first moment her hand had touched his melted away. He could really get used to that smile. Chase was more than sure, when she went back to Dallas to play big business, he was going to miss it.

  The first little ways, neither said anything. Grace kept both hands on the wheel as they rode off the property, onto the main road, and down a long ways before reaching a dirt road.

  Opening the door, Grace looked at him. "Give me a second to open the gate."

  "Need help?"

  "Nope. Be right back."

  Truth was, he felt odd sitting inside while she moved the heavy gate, but he didn't doubt she made it look easy. Back in the truck, they rode over the cattle rails, the slatted beams in the road to stop the cattle from leaving the pasture if someone should forget to close the gate.

  "Okay," she smiled. "You can close it."

  At the end of the road, she shifted the truck into park and hopped out. Unloading was seriously easier than loading, or Ace had decided it wasn't worth his time to tease the greenhorn—a greenhorn who was pretty proud of himself for climbing gracefully onto the horse without falling off the other side.

  "See those?" She pointed in the distance to his left. Specks of black dashed across a blanket of green and gold. "That's where we're going."

  His horse followed Grace's lead. She set the pace. A rather slow pace. Very slow.

  "Shouldn't we ride a little faster?"

  "Not if you want to walk tomorrow."

  "Excuse me?"

  "There's no need to gallop. We're not in a hurry."

  He nodded.

  "And if we trot, unless you've been taught to sit a horse, your tail is going to make you pay."

  And he nodded again. The extent of his riding experience had been a few walks around a pen at the dude ranch for his eighth grade class trip. She had a point. “Are there any signs in particular we'll be looking for?"

  "Some downed fence line. Damaged fence line. Something that was taken down and then propped up to delay finding it. Tire tracks. Anything suspicious."

  The fence and tire tracks he could find. The anything that went with “suspicious” he wasn't so sure of, but he was willing to give it a shot. "It really is beautiful out here."

  "It's flat."

  "Yes, but beautiful. The way the cows speckle the landscape. The depth of the sky. The silence except for the footsteps of our rides."

  "And the incessant mooing of a hundred cows."

  "Beats a hundred cabbies and their horns."

  "Maybe." She shrugged. "I'd like to see for myself."

  "You ever been to New York?"

  She shook her head. "Made it to Florida once during spring break. I was supposed to go to New Orleans for a friend from A&M’s twenty-first birthday but I came down with bronchitis."

  "Haven't had a chance to go back?"

  "Nope. Bourbon Street and beignets will have to wait." She glanced his way. "What about you? Been to New Orleans?"

  He nodded. "I'm partial to the zeppoles on Arthur Avenue."

  "Arthur Avenue?"

  "Little Italy, in the Bronx. Same concept as beignets. Fried dough with powdered sugar."

  "What about Bourbon Street?"

  A smile tugged at his lips before he could hide it. "Not bad."

  "Oh yeah." She rolled her eyes at him. "That smile is definitely reflective of a miserable trip to New Orleans."

  "I was young. Not very discerning."

  Grace looked ahead to the cattle. "I think I'll bump it up on my list."

  "Your list?"

  "Places I want to go before I'm thirty."

  "Ah. I see."

  "How are you holding up?"

  Wrapping the reins loosely around the horn of his saddle he held his hands out to his side. "See, Mommy, no hands."

  "Oh for Pete's sake."

  He laughed louder than he should have and retook hold of the reins. He wasn't positive but he thought he saw Ace turn his neck and roll wise brown eyes at him. "What can I say, I should have run away from home and joined a rodeo at a young age."
<
br />   "That's the circus."

  "Yeah, but clowns don't get to play with horses and cows."

  "Neither do we."

  "I don't know. This feels an awful lot like playing to me." He leaned forward and knew he shouldn't, but he just couldn't resist. Easing his grip on the reins so they hung more loosely, he nudged his heels at the horse's side, clicked his tongue and, taking off, shouted over his shoulder, "Last one to the cows has to has to buy the winner dinner."

  Chapter Ten

  The first thing to cross Grace's mind was that Chase was going to get himself killed. Her second thought was that the city slicker could ride. And fast.

  "Oh no you don't." She had no intention of losing. The crazy man might be able to stay on a galloping horse, but there was no way he could compete with a three-time rodeo champion. Not to mention the youngest child in the family who had always had to keep up with older brothers. Leaning forward and barely pressing her heels into Princess' side, Grace lightly flicked the reins from side to side, gave a familiar yell, and her favorite horse took off like the champion barrel racer she was.

  It had been so many years since Grace had flown on Princess. She'd forgotten how great if felt to move as one with such a powerful animal. The wind blowing in her face and the pounding sound of speeding hooves sent an adrenaline burst to every micro cell in her system.

  "Whoo," she heard herself yell as she sailed past Chase. Arriving just in front of the herd she eased back to turn around.

  Chase came to an out-of-breath stop beside her. "That was amazing." The smile on his face would have been infectious if Grace wasn't already grinning from ear to ear.

  "How much riding did you say you'd done?" she asked, slightly out of breath herself.

  "Not much." Chase leaned forward and patted his horse's neck.

  Grace didn't buy it for a minute, but at the moment she didn't really care. "That wasn't fair. You didn't give us much warning."

  "As if you cared. I saw your face light up when you passed me."

  She certainly couldn't argue. Chase was right, the second she realized she wasn't just going to have to follow and save his ass, but beat it, was the most exhilarating moment she'd had in a hell of a long time.

  Leaning over the saddle horn, still catching his breath and grinning like a fool, Chase cocked his head to one side. "Now what?"

  Nearly overcome with the desire to race to the creek and see how Chase handled the swing rope, she tamped down the impulse, took in a long breath to slow her own galloping heart, and scanned the herd. "Now, we go to work."

  More than an hour had gone by and they hadn’t discovered a single missing cow or calf and no sign of mischief anywhere. A time or two Grace might even have sworn the cows gave her dirty looks for interrupting their afternoon of leisurely grazing or invading the pile of cattle huddled under the solitary patch of shade.

  "This time," Grace straightened in the saddle, "we take our time along the fence line back to the truck. Aunt Eileen packed us a nice lunch and I don't know about you, but I'm starved."

  "I'm right with you. Worked up a bit of an appetite. I'm so hungry I could eat a…" Chase looked around and swallowed. "Well, I'm just hungry." An apologetic smile crossed his lips and Grace thought for the first time since she'd spotted the too-neat storekeeper staring down at her and his scattered display, that just maybe there really might be a bit of country in this city slicker.

  Together they took their time riding the fence line, keeping an eye open for any breaks or other signs of unwanted activity.

  Almost back at the truck, Chase came to a halt and slid a little too easily off his mount. "Is this anything?"

  Biting down on her back teeth and shaking her head, Grace dropped her reins and climbed off, only a step or two behind Chase. "Damn it." The fence line was intact but a few smoked-to-the-end cigarette butts had been crushed into the ground by the post. "Asshats could have burned the whole damn pasture." She raised her head and looked into the distance where the cows speckled the view. "We'd better tell Finn there might be trouble coming."

  "I gather your brothers don't smoke?"

  "No one does." Gnawing hunger took a back seat to the possibilities now bouncing around in her mind. And she didn't like any of them.

  Chase crouched low and looked at the stomped out butts and the surrounding area. "We should probably call DJ."

  "On it." Pulling out her cell she hit speed dial.

  "Any chance it's nothing?" Chase asked.

  She listened to the ringing phone at her ear. "Always a chance, but damn unlikely."

  DJ’s voice came on the line. It took all of sixty seconds to explain what they'd found and to be informed to sit tight until he got there. Hungry or not, all they could do now was sit, eat, and wait.

  ***

  An unexpected array of thoughts played in Chase's mind. What if Grace had come out here alone? What if the guy who smoked these cigarettes still stood around watching the herd? What if the guy had tried something with Grace? Suddenly Chase's peaceful Mayberryesque town wasn't as safe and secure as he'd thought.

  Walking the short distance to the truck, he and Grace left their horses nearby and settled in for lunch under the shade of the large trailer. Aunt Eileen had packed a cooler with a couple of sandwiches thick enough with cold cuts to be served at a New York delicatessen, along with fruit, chips, and what had to be homemade cookies that could rival the best cookie shops back home.

  "You look awfully pensive." Grace took her last bite of sandwich.

  "I'm trying to decide if I should propose to your aunt now or wait till she's had time to learn I can be charming and irresistible."

  Looking up at him through her lashes, Grace smothered a smile. "Charming and irresistible?"

  "So I've been told." He hefted one shoulder.

  Grace returned the shrug and ripped open the bag of chips. "I'd wait at least until you're sure you'll be staying."

  "I am sure."

  "That's right. You said you were thinking of getting a place of your own."

  "Yeah." Tossing his napkin into the nearly empty cooler, he sucked in a deep breath and glanced around at the miles of nothing.

  Grace scooted her feet close and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I know moving across the country and changing a way of life is a big deal, but that sigh sounded even more ominous."

  "Are you always this observant?"

  "I'm good at reading people."

  "I know you don't want to practice law, but you'd be a great litigator."

  She shrugged. "So why the sigh?"

  "It's a long story."

  "It's a big county. DJ won't be here for a while."

  Shifting his weight, he leaned back on his elbows. "My father was a commercial real estate broker. He worked long hard hours. Mom used to say she'd see more of her husband if she'd married a doctor than she did of my father."

  Grace lowered her chin onto her knees but gave no indication of what she was thinking.

  "I suppose she was right in some ways. He missed a lot of school plays and ball games and charity dinners, but at least he was always home on the holidays. Most of them. He wasn't really an athlete, there wasn't any tossing a ball around, but when he could he'd take me with him to scout out properties or check on construction crews."

  "Did you like that?"

  "I liked being with my father. One weekend, I must have been around seven, a local station that started playing reruns of the Andy Griffith Show had a marathon introduction. Dad made popcorn and we watched for two days. It was the best time my father and I ever spent together." He closed his eyes briefly, considering his own words, then settled his gaze on Grace. "I don't think I've ever admitted that to anyone."

  A soft smile appeared on Grace's face. "It's funny what winds up meaning a lot to a child. What about your mom, did she watch with you?"

  "Nope. She thought most of the characters too over simplified. Too—"

  "Stupid?"

  "I didn't say that. Any
how, watching reruns together became our thing when time allowed. My dad's dream was to retire to Mayberry. Well, someplace like Mayberry. As time flew by and I grew older and the idea of retirement grew more realistic, we'd occasionally talk places to go, what he'd do."

  "Let me guess, fishing was top on the list."

  Chase laughed. "You'd think, wouldn't you?"

  "With the whole father and son whistling while they walked with fishing poles? Yeah, I'd think. He didn't like fishing?"

  "He'd never been. I think what he really wanted was the slower pace. Knowing all the neighbors by name."

  "Didn't he know your neighbor's names?"

  "Most of them, but everyone was always so busy, no one ever really stopped to talk. To visit. That's what Dad wanted."

  "Well, he's going to love visiting you here."

  Chase swallowed the knot that slithered up his throat. "I think he would have. Working late one night, he had a heart attack. The janitors found him, but it was too late."

  Her smile slipped, and sadness filled her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I'd be a basket case if I lost my dad. How long ago has it been?"

  Sitting up straight again, he blew out a heavy breath, waiting for the familiar pang of loss to stop hammering at his heart. "It will be two months this coming week."

  Grace's eyes rounded with surprise and then softened. "I'm so sorry for your loss," she repeated.

  "Thanks." He raised one leg and set his arm on his knee. "I was sending out some notifications to the folks on Dad's email account when an email popped up on the screen. Turns out Dad had been keeping tabs on properties for sale all over the country."

  "The email was the feed store?"

  He nodded. "I almost hit delete without reading it, but something made me open it instead. There wasn't anything about the photos of Main Street that looked even a little like the few shots of Mayberry we saw and yet—"

  Grace pulled her knees closer to her chest. "You had to come see for yourself."

  "Yeah. I did. My mother and her sister had planned this trip with my aunt months before Dad passed. Aunt Cecilia convinced Mom the trip would do her good. We both figured since Mom and Dad never traveled together, Mom might not feel Dad's absence so much."