The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3) (7 page)

Her hand rested on his arm. “Not your fault. I teased and I shouldn’t have. I...I’ve missed you.”

That statement was best left alone. He looked toward the door and found it easy to disengage. “We should see how things are going in there.”

At that moment the door opened and Lilly bounded in, a twin on each hip. “You’ll hurt your back,” he warned.

She shifted the girls a little higher. “I’m young, not old and gimpy.”

He laughed. “You’re cheeky.”

“That, too.” Off she went toward the kitchen, the twins laughing as she broke into a gallop, whinnying for effect.

“That kid is great,” Grace observed.

“Yeah, she really is.”

Together they headed for the kitchen. Even before they got there he could hear Duke giving Breezy a hard time about something she’d put on the meat. And Oregon was laughing about the new recipe he’d tried for the slaw. Family small talk. He remembered back when they were kids, the laughter, the teasing and family dinners were in short supply. Jake said he stayed far from the kitchen these days because he’d spent too many years trying to feed four kids with ramen noodles and mac and cheese. The kitchen was his least favorite place to be.

“Your family is great,” Grace said in a soft voice. “Not that mine isn’t. They are. They’re just different.”

“A little quieter and classier?” Brody mused with a wink.

Her mouth quirked and one shoulder lifted. “Maybe quieter.”

A sudden urge to kiss her came over him and he stepped away, fighting temptation. “I should help out. Have a seat and I’ll get you a glass of...milk?”

“I’m not five. A glass of water, please.”

“Coming up.”

His phone rang. He lifted it from his pocket and frowned at the caller ID. Grace arched a brow. He showed her the name and she shuddered.

But he answered. “Lincoln?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I want to know where Grace is. Her family is worried.”

Brody knew better. She’d already talked to her parents and her grandparents. “If they’re worried, it’s probably because you’re calling them.”

“I need to see her, Brody. We’re having a baby. That means something to a guy.”

Brody knew better than that, too. “Yeah, but most men don’t hit the woman that’s having their child. I think it’s better if we end this conversation. I only answered to tell you to leave her alone, Lincoln. She’s talked to a lawyer and we’re going to get a restraining order.”

A sharp laugh sliced through the phone. “We. Are the two of you a ‘we’ now? I don’t think so, Brody. You were her summer romance before she went back to reality. If she’s there now, she’s just using you all over again.”

Brody held the phone close to his ear, but Lincoln was yelling, and from the grimace on her face, he saw that Grace had heard.

“I don’t mind, Lincoln. I’m always willing to help out a friend. And if you ever decide to get help, I’ll be here for you.”

The phone went dead.

“Well, that was fun,” Duke said, a firm hand on Brody’s shoulder. “You know how to pick your friends.”

He shrugged it off because the past was the past. Grace sitting on that bar stool in front of him didn’t mean she was his future. Or that he had to make the same mistakes all over again.

The definition of a fool was someone who kept doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different outcome. Brody Martin wasn’t anyone’s fool.

Chapter Seven

T
he best thing about Grace’s tiny apartment that Sunday afternoon was her sofa. She could have climbed the narrow stairs to the bedroom, but after Brody dropped her off she couldn’t imagine making it that far for the nap she’d been craving. Her entire body screamed for rest.

But first she followed Lefty Mueller’s advice and made herself a cup of peppermint tea. And with it she ate the zucchini bread Jake and Breezy Martin’s housekeeper, Marty, had made before her date with Joe Andrews.

After her snack, she grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and collapsed. There were moments, such as this one, when she thought she might not return to Fort Worth. She loved this community she’d found and the friends she’d made. She loved everything about Martin’s Crossing. Then the image of a cowboy with faded jeans and a bent-up cowboy hat edged into her thoughts.

Brody. She knew better than to dream of him. Once upon a time she’d hurt him. And now she was having his best friend’s baby. Her baby. She had to focus on being a good mom. On doing what was best for the child she would have.

She drifted off to sleep, only to be startled awake by a heavy pounding on the front door. She sat up, still half-asleep, and started to yell at Brody that he didn’t have to pound the door down. But the pounding went beyond what Brody would ever do.

She stumbled to her feet, reached for her phone, her heart stuttering with fear. She dialed as she ran for the bathroom. As she locked the door, she heard Lincoln yelling that she’d better open up or she’d regret it.

She sank to the floor as Brody answered.

“Lincoln is at the door. Brody, I’m scared.” She drew up her knees and leaned forward, the hand that held her phone to her ear trembling. “I can hear him out there. He’s going to break the door down.”

“Hang on. I’m going to put you on the phone with Breezy. She’ll talk to you while I call the police and head that way. Grace...”

She nodded silently, because she couldn’t manage to speak.

“Grace, I’m on my way. He won’t hurt you again.”

She whispered, “I know. But please hurry.”

Then Breezy was on the phone, telling her everything would be okay. “Grace, Brody and Jake are on their way. They’ve called the local police. Stay in the bathroom with the door locked. And grab the hair spray if there is any in the cabinet.”

Hair spray? She scrambled to her knees and crawled to the cabinet, rummaging through the contents. And then she heard the loud splintering of the front door.

“He’s inside.” Her voice shook as she told Breezy. But she had the can of hair spray in her hand. “How did I ever think he was charming? Why did I do this to myself?”

“We all make mistakes, Grace. We don’t always see people clearly until we’ve spent more time with them.”

He was pounding on the bathroom door, rattling it on the hinges. “He’s here. He’s trying to get in the bathroom.”

“They’re on their way.”

Grace scooted into a corner as the door creaked beneath Lincoln’s assault on the wooden frame. She raised the hair spray, praying Breezy knew what she was talking about. The door gave a little. And then she heard the sirens.

Lincoln gave the door one last kick, because he wasn’t a person who gave up easily. She waited for him to burst into the bathroom. But instead there were voices: a police officer, Jake and Brody.

“Grace, let me in.” It was Brody’s voice, quieter, more reasonable and soothing.

She got to her feet and hurried to unlock the door. Brody pushed it open, causing it to creak as it scraped the floor. As he stepped into the room she flew into the safety of his arms.

He held her, his arms loose around her but his voice calm, making her feel less shattered, more whole. “He’s in police custody, Grace. This time they’ll have him on a few charges.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her throat tightened with fear, with emotion. “I never thought he’d do this.”

“He was my best friend for years and I never would have thought he’d turn into this person. But he’s going to jail and you’re safe.” He looked at her with a lopsided grin. “What were you going to do with that hair spray?”

She looked at the can she still held. “I have no idea. Breezy told me to find hair spray and I did. Maybe she just wanted to keep me busy?”

He chuckled. “Maybe. I guess you can ask her.”

She was stronger than she thought. She was able to smile and laugh. Lincoln hadn’t taken everything that made her the person she was. She walked to the front door and watched as the patrol car drove away. She watched Jake and Duke carry tools and wood up the sidewalk to fix the door.

“What do I do now?” she asked, not really expecting him to have the answers.

“I guess that’s up to you. Oregon said you can stay at her place.”

“That’s sweet of her.” Grace watched as Duke and Jake worked on the door and the door frame.

Jake stepped back. “We’ll do what we can with this tonight, but it looks as if we’ll need a new door. We’ll get one in the next few days and put this back together if Grace wants to come back.”

“I’d like that,” she answered, feeling more positive than she would have expected.

Brody adjusted that bent-up cowboy hat, pushing it back just a little. “Then, I’ll take you to Oregon’s?”

“Yes, let me pack a few things.”

When they pulled up in front of Oregon’s place, Grace grabbed the small bag she’d packed and got out. Brody walked with her but she redirected him away from the house and toward the barn. He had questions in his eyes that he didn’t ask. She kept walking and he remained at her side. Horses grazed in the field. It was early evening and the distant hills were bathed in lavender and gold as the sun set. She breathed in deeply, loving it here.

Maybe it was this place, the land and the people that kept her from moving on. For a few years she’d felt unsettled, as if the carefully constructed pieces of her life weren’t fitting together the way she’d planned. Even in Stephenville with her aunt, riding barrel horses, living free of the constraints of her life in Fort Worth, she hadn’t felt this way. Here, in Martin’s Crossing, she felt as though the missing pieces were coming together.

It was never too late. She knew that. All of her life she’d been taught to believe in second, third and even fourth chances.

“It’s a pretty evening,” Brody said as they stopped by the fence. A gray gelding headed their way, his ears forward, his soft brown eyes studying their faces and then shifting to the dog that ran up to Brody.

Brody reached to pet the horse, rubbing its jaw and then down its smooth neck. The horse tossed his head, then pushed against Brody’s hand.

“It is pretty. I can’t imagine going back to Fort Worth.”

He didn’t look at her. “When do you think that will be?”

“I’m not sure. I know I have to go home, but it isn’t easy.”

He moved away from the horse and the fence, facing her. “I guess you don’t have to leave in a hurry.”

“No, I guess I don’t. But I can’t stay and take advantage of your family’s generosity. I’m going to have to make some real plans soon.”

He fingered the silver chain that hung around his neck. She knew a cross hung from that chain and that he’d worn it since his sixteenth birthday. He always rubbed that cross before a ride. He didn’t believe in lucky charms, he’d once told her, but he did believe in prayer. And he believed what that cross stood for. The words had always been followed with a good-natured wink because he didn’t want anyone to see beneath the surface.

She knew what was beneath the surface, though. A man who could be counted on; a man who kept his promises. A year ago he promised her he’d be there if she ever needed him.

But he’d also promised her he wouldn’t make the mistake of loving her again.

* * *

Brody needed to go. He had work to do. And he needed space from the woman at his side. She had a way of getting in his head, making him think too much. She made him think about himself, about forgiving, about the future.

“I’ll walk you back to the house,” he offered. He kept his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans as they walked.

“Thank you for driving me out here today.”

The conversation went on that way for the next few minutes. She talked about nothing. He gave answers that meant nothing. When they neared the house, Oregon came out, Lilly at her side.

“We’re going to Duke’s for dinner,” Lilly chimed in before Oregon could say anything. “He said to tell you to come, too.”

“I think I’m gonna head home, and I have a feeling Grace will crash early,” Brody answered.

“There are leftovers in the fridge, Grace,” Oregon offered. “Or I can bring you something from Duke’s.”

“I’ll be okay. You all go ahead and enjoy,” Grace assured Oregon with an easy smile.

“You’ll be staying in Lilly’s room. It has the blue spread and too many horse posters. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.”

Oregon and Lilly headed down the road on foot, the dog running alongside them. Mother and daughter held hands as they walked. They were close. And Oregon had done everything for her kid. Brody admired her.

He knew Grace would do the same. She’d put everything into raising her child.

“You’ll be a good mom,” he said. She didn’t need to hear it from him, but the words were as honest as the blue sky stretching over them meeting the horizon, touching the hills.

“I hope so,” she said, looking up at him.

“It’s a fact.” Man, he was losing all sense of balance with her. Those dark brown eyes had a way of undoing his common sense.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?’

“Making me feel as if what I did, the way I broke things off, was okay, as if I’m not a horrible person.”

When she frowned he touched her cheek, then slowly slid his finger to her chin, drawing her face up so that he could lose himself in those eyes all over again. “You are a good person. We all get a little lost sometimes.”

Her eyes closed and one tear dripped down her cheek. He caught it on the end of his thumb. Then he forgot that kissing her was the worst idea ever. He captured her lips, soft and sweet, with his. He heard her soft sigh, felt her melt a little as she relaxed against him. He wrapped an arm around her, holding her as he brushed his lips across hers.

She felt so right in his arms that for a minute, he couldn’t believe this was wrong, that it would ever be wrong. Her lips moved to his temple. He captured her mouth again as her hand landed on his chest. Her fingers settled on the chain at his neck.

He tried to shift away but her hand had found what he’d kept so carefully hidden. His broken heart, his broken dreams...

She fumbled to pull the chain out from under his shirt. “Brody, what is this?”

She held the ring, still attached to the chain, dangling next to the cross he always wore. The diamond glistened as she held it up, her eyes seeking his, seeking answers.

He pulled the chain from her fingers. He should have guessed this moment would come someday, the moment when she knew that he had cared far more for her than she’d cared for him. He’d been a friend, a good time. She’d been the woman he’d planned to marry.

“I guess that’s an engagement ring,” he answered, hoping to sound as though it didn’t matter. “Unfortunately I never got the chance to give it to the woman in question.”

She closed her eyes, her hand covering her face. “Oh, Brody.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not pining for something or someone.”

“Then, why do you keep it?”

He brushed off the question. “I keep it to remind myself that people can’t be who we want them to be. It’s a mistake I won’t make a second time.”

Just like the kiss they’d just shared. A warm but distant memory. A mistake.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That night?”

“Yeah, the night you broke up with me. I took you to that restaurant thinking I would propose. It’s all water under the bridge now. Why don’t I walk you in, show you where things are, then I’d best head back to my place.”

It should have been easy. He took her in the front door of the house, through the small living room, down the hall to Lilly’s room with all the horse posters. He opened the closet and found that Oregon had already cleared space for her.

“Is there anything you need before I go?”

She took hold of his hand as they walked back to the kitchen. “I should have been better to you.”

“It’s been a year and...” He didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t get a chance.

She pulled the chain out of his shirt again. “You’ve moved on but the ring is still here, reminding you.”

Yeah, reminding him that the next time she came around he wouldn’t be a fool. He eased away from her.

“Don’t worry, though, I’m not planning another proposal.” He headed for the back door. The dog was there, waiting to be let in. When he opened the door, the border collie slid past him into the house. “I’ll see you.”

“Brody, we should talk.”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “No, I think all the talking has been done. Don’t worry about it. You have a little guy in there who needs you a lot more than this guy does.”

He headed out the door, sorry that he had to walk away but knowing it was the smartest thing he’d done all day. Unfortunately he did look back, and people were right, looking back was never a good idea. She stood at the door watching him leave, the border collie next to her. The ring hung cold against his chest as he climbed behind the wheel of his truck.