Lonestar Homecoming (14 page)

“That's different,” she protested.

“I don't think so.” His warm fingers closed around her arm. “You need to find some peace.”

“It doesn't exist in my world.” She turned and ran for the house, even though he called after her.

Easy enough for him to spout the platitudes. He'd done everything right. A coyote howled in the distance, and the sound brought a wave of red balls across her vision. Red was the color of guilt.

11

G
RIT COATED
G
RACIE'S EYES
. T
LHE WEEKEND HAD BEEN FULL OF STRIFE
. I
T
was nearly eleven before they got the children settled down last night. Then she'd spent another hour writing a letter to the FBI. She slid it inside an envelope addressed to her former boss at the day care, then put it in the mailbox by the road.

The bus had already come and gone with Jordan and Evan, who had little to say to her. Even the normally sunny Hope had picked at her breakfast until Gracie gave her the assignment of writing a page of her ABC's.Today should be better with the older kids in school and Michael at work. She had a list of things she wanted to do that would keep her mind busy.When Hope's lesson was over, Gracie was going to give this house a good scrubbing.

Hat in hand, Michael stepped into the doorway. “I need to pay the rent.Want to come along and meet the folks who own the house? I hear they have two girls about Hope's age. Might make good playmates.”

Gracie glanced up. He hadn't slept any more than she had. “I thought I might clean house today.”

He snapped a leash on Caesar. “I was planning to drop by Rick's afterward. He's giving me a horse and I thought you might help me pick it out.You know horses.Then I can drop you back here before I go to work.”

She smiled. “Is this a ploy to help me face my fear?”

“Maybe I just like your company.”

She laughed. “Now I know you're up to something.”

He grinned. “It's been a rough weekend. There's strength in numbers.”

Hope sprang to her feet. “I'll come!” She shoved her bare feet into small pink flip-flops that matched her shirt.

“Okay, we can finish your schoolwork later,” Gracie said. She followed him and Hope to the front door, where she paused to slide into her flip-flops. Her knee was still sore from the fall, but the exercise would do her good.

“Where are we going, Daddy?” Hope asked.

Gracie saw Michael's eyes widen when Hope called him Daddy. They exchanged a smile.

“We're going to visit the people who own this house.They raise horses.”

“Like they do at Bluebird Ranch?” Hope asked.

“Not exactly.These folks raise racehorses.”

“Ooo.” Hope clapped her hands.

The hot desert wind drove needles of sand against her bare legs. The murky sky to the west hinted of a sandstorm. Gracie buckled Hope into the backseat, then popped a DVD into the player for her before getting in the front with Michael.

Her lips were chapped, and she rooted in her purse for her lip gloss.When she couldn't find it, she dumped the contents on the seat beside her.Ah, there it was. She glided on a coating of mint gloss, then began to put everything back in.

“What's that?” Michael asked, glancing at the small brown leather book in her hand.

Her fingers tightened around the worn binding. “My dad's New Testament.” Storing it in her purse had battered it even more than her father's usage had. “He was a pastor.” She unsnapped the testament, and it fell open to Luke 15.

He glanced down again. “The Prodigal Son a favorite of yours?”

She fingered the fine paper. “It was my dad's favorite passage of Scripture.”

“We're all prodigals, really.”

She studied his square jaw. “Not you.You're the good son who stayed home. Did his duty.”

He winced. “That guy wasn't exactly the hero of the story, you know.”

“Sure he was. He didn't hurt his dad.” She swallowed past the rock in her throat. “I'm the real prodigal, I guess. But there's no homecoming for me.” She laughed, then realized how bitter she sounded.

“You sound flippant about that.”

“Not flippant, just resigned.”

“There's always God. He's always there waiting.”

She held up her hand. “Please, no sermon. I grew up sitting on the right side of the sanctuary in the second pew from the front. I've heard it all.” Caesar whined and pressed his wet nose against her neck. She nearly leaped from her seat at the shock of cold.When she patted the dog, he whined in her ear, then lurched back to fall across Hope's lap.

“Let's change the subject.” As she closed the testament, her gaze fell on the phrase “not worthy to be called your son.” That summed up the sense of inadequacy she struggled with most days.
Not worthy.

She had no problem seeing herself in the prodigal son, but she could never go back home. All the regret in the world wouldn't change how she'd broken her parents' hearts, or how her pride had killed her mother.

F
OR THE REST OF THE TRIP
, G
RACIE DIDN'T SPEAK A WORD TO HIM
.
Michael glanced at her set jaw.Was she remembering her dad, or was she thinking of something else? “This is it,” he said. The truck rolled through the gate.

Gracie gasped when they stopped. “Wow,” she said.

Michael glanced over at her. “A little overwhelming, huh?” he said. “Jack's a nice guy, even if he is filthy rich.” He couldn't remember much about Shannon, though he vaguely recalled a quiet blond girl with vivid blue eyes. He parked the truck in front of the circular driveway that swept past the grand porch columns.

“I think I'll wait here,” Gracie said.

“I want you to meet them,” he said. “And Hope will want to meet the girls.”

“They'll be in school,” she reminded him.

“Oh, right.Well, I still want to introduce you.”

Before she could answer him, a woman stepped through the front door and waved. Her blond hair just touched her shoulders, and she wore a smile that welcomed them in. She came down the steps toward the truck, and Gracie ran her window down as she approached.

“You must be Michael and Gracie,” she said. “I'm Shannon MacGowan. Come on in. I've got fresh coffee all ready.”

Gracie's smile emerged, and gazing around the grounds, she got out of the truck. “You've got some beautiful horses.”

“Jack raises them. Aren't they gorgeous?”

Michael was looking at a particularly handsome black horse with white socks. “That's a real beauty. I'm on my way to Rick's to find one. I need one for my job.”

Shannon smiled. “For Border Patrol? You don't need to go to Rick's.Take your pick. Jack would be glad to donate one to you.”

Michael gaped. “We could pay you something for him. I'm not sure what the government budget is, but I can find out.”

Shannon waved her hand. “Jack would want you to have him.That's Fabio.”

Gracie laughed, and Michael realized he'd never heard her giggle before. She'd never let loose with full-on mirth. He didn't get what was so funny. “Fabio.Weird name.” Both women burst into gales of laughter. “What's the joke?”

“Remind me to show you on Amazon who Fabio is,” Gracie said. Her cheeks held pink now, and her blue eyes sparkled.

“I'm not sure I want to know.”

“He won't answer to another name. Jack tried when he found out, uh, the truth.” Shannon laughed again. “I named him because he's so gorgeous. He's a spoiled thing. Be prepared with lots of carrots.”

Michael followed the women into the house. Hope stayed out to throw Caesar's Frisbee to the dog.Travertine tiles stretched down the hall.The place was a palace. “Nice digs,” he said.

“No thanks to me. It was like this when I moved in a year ago.” Shannon led them to the living room, which was furnished with comfortable sofas and chairs in warm colors. “Let me get you some coffee.”

“I'll help.” Gracie followed her.

Michael glanced around the room and saw pictures of two smiling girls.They were the spitting image of Shannon.

“Cute, aren't they?” Jack MacGowan stood in the doorway. Dressed in boots and jeans, he was the quintessential cowboy. Someone just meeting him would never suspect he controlled thousands of acres of ranch land and had more money in the bank than most people on Wall Street.

Michael rose and shook his hand. “Hey, Jack. Looks like marriage is treating you well.”

Jack patted his stomach. “I'm not hurting for good food, though that's because we've got a great cook.” He advanced into the room. “Shannon sent me in here to tell you that you can have Fabio. But forget about changing his name. He'll look the other way and ignore you.”

“What's with the name thing? The girls were giggling about it like they were still in high school.”

Jack's grin widened. “I'll show you. Follow me.” He led them to the kitchen, where they found a Hispanic woman rolling out tortillas. Gracie and Shannon stood talking by the coffeepot.

“Enrica, I'd like to show our guest who Fabio is named for,” Jack said.

The cook sniffed. “Mr. Jack, it is not that funny.” She reached into the voluminous pocket of her apron and withdrew a paperback book. She handed it to Jack.

He grinned and flashed the front cover toward Michael.The male model on the front had a bare chest and long, flowing hair. “That's Fabio.”

Michael nearly choked. “You mean I have to call that horse Fabio in front of my coworkers?”

“Yep.You still want him?”

“Of course. Thanks, Jack. Maybe we can get him to answer to something else.”

“You won't get it done. Fabio knows his own mind.”

“That's right,” Shannon said. She carried the loaded tray past them. “He knows he's beautiful and he won't let you forget it.”

“Don't smirk,”Michael told Gracie as she walked by with amusement lighting her eyes. He and Jack followed the women back to the living room. He settled in an overstuffed armchair as they passed around trays of coffee cups and cookies.

“I'll trailer Fabio over for you this morning,” Jack said.

“Are you sure? I can come get him.” Michael accepted a cup of coffee from Gracie.

“I have an errand to run, so it's no trouble.”

“Thanks!” He glanced at Gracie. “Have you met Jack?” he asked her.

“In the kitchen, before you came to see the real Fabio's picture.” She cupped her coffee in her hands and sat on the sofa beside Shannon.

He quirked an eyebrow their way. “You were going to throw me under the bus at work and just let those guys tease me. At least now I know what to expect.”

Gracie laughed. “I think you look a little like Fabio,” she said. “They'll think you named the horse after yourself.”

Shannon and Jack burst into hoots of laughter. “That's love for you,” Jack said. “Only a wife would think you looked like a hunk.”

Gracie's face colored, and she stared into her coffee cup. Did she really think he was good-looking? Michael didn't know where to look—at her flaming face or into the knowing grins of his host and hostess. If they only knew the real situation.

“You're just jealous Shannon didn't compare you to Fabio,” he finally got out.

“You're right. I think I should be offended,” Jack said, directing a grin at his wife, who stuck her tongue out at him. “Didn't take long for you to grab her up.”

“When I first laid eyes on Gracie, I knew she'd make the perfect bride,” Michael said with a smirk he knew would infuriate her.

Their gazes locked. A smile tugged at her lips and his grin widened at the bewilderment on the faces of their hosts.

Jack's laugh was uneasy. “You're a lucky man.”

“More than you know.” Michael glanced at his watch, then swallowed a gulp of coffee. “I hate to run, but I'm going to be later than I expected to work.” He drained his coffee and glanced at Gracie.“Ready?”

“Leave her here, and we'll run her home,” Shannon said. “I haven't had a girlfriend in for a while, and I need to talk about something other than horses.”

“Run for your life,” Jack advised Gracie. “She'll talk your ear off.” He got up, kissed Shannon, then followed Michael to the door.

Michael wondered if he should have followed that advice himself. Getting attached to his new wife might be the most dangerous thing he'd ever do.

G
RACIE SIPPED AT HER NEARLY COLD COFFEE
. M
AYBE SHE SHOULD ASK TO
be taken home. Shannon kept glancing at her watch. They'd had a pleasant visit while Hope played with some of Shannon's girls' toys, but Gracie feared she might be wearing out her welcome.

Shannon leaped to her feet. “Sounds like someone is here. Just a second.” She rushed out of the room.

Gracie put down her empty cup.A cacophony of voices echoed in the hallway. It sounded like several women. Her visit here might get prolonged, and she had a dozen things she wanted to accomplish yet today.The voices grew nearer, and she looked expectantly toward the doorway.

A host of women—at least ten—came smiling into the room. Allie led the pack.They carried packages and gift bags.

“Surprise!”Allie said. “This is all for you.A little wedding shower.”

Shannon ushered the last of the women into the room. “I could see her fidgeting and was beginning to worry she'd demand to be taken home,” Shannon said. “Allie pulled this all together last night.”

Fighting the moisture in her eyes, Gracie stood and put her hands to her hot cheeks. “I can't believe it.”

“We have no idea what you need, so we just got things we'd like to have in our own homes,” one woman said. A pretty brunette, she had a toddler by the hand. She was introduced as Janet Pickens, wife of Michael's boss, Lanny.The toddler was their grandchild.