Heart of Grace (Return to Grace Trilogy #1) (10 page)

“I can’t believe it’s you! I hardly recognized you!” Sophie
Alexander, her childhood classmate, sat on Angela’s mat. She
took both of Angela’s hands and squeezed tightly. “What are
you doing back here?”
“I’m working at my father’s rodeo arena for the summer,”
Angela explained cautiously. She and Sophie had been never
been friends. They had hardly been acquaintances.
Sophie frowned. “It was hard on all of us when you left.
We felt terrible. You should know that Henry never lived
another decent day in this town. He was hated until the day he
died.”
“And you?” Angela asked, turning the topic. “Do you still
live in Grace or are you visiting, too?”
“Still live here.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “Hard to break out
when you don’t have anywhere else to go. Speaking of which,
I heard you moved to New York. Do you still live there?
What’s it like? What are the men like?”
“Different,” Angela said, thinking of the contrasts between
Jeffery and Cole.
“Thought so.”
“It was nice to see you, Sophie,” Angela offered, hoping
Sophie would take the hint and retreat.
“You too! Oh, where are you staying? We should have
lunch and catch up.”
“I’m staying at Starhorn Ranch. It’s not like that,” she
added quickly when Sophie’s eyes shot wide open. “Cole and I
are working together. I’m staying in his guest house.”
“Uh-huh.” Sophie giggled and squeezed Angela’s arm.
“Now we really must have lunch so you can fill me in. Let’s
chat after class!”
“Oh,” Angela fumbled for the words, “I may not have
time. I’ll be leaving as soon as class is over. I have a ton of
errands to run.”
“Okay.” Sophie nodded, understanding and hurt filling her
big blue eyes. “I’ll call you sometime, then.”
“Sure.”
Sophie was already walking away. Angela had never had a
true girlfriend. She didn’t understand the bond between
females and she would never know why some women found
joy in gossip and chatting endlessly about nothing in particular.
Still, she felt like a jerk.
Ignoring the nagging tug of guilt, Angela closed her eyes
again and focused on her breathing, the hum of voices filling
the room as the other women rolled out their mats. The gentle
tune of flutes and violins began to play. The voices quieted.
“Alright everyone, welcome to yoga. We are going to begin
today in a comfortable seated position with our eyes closed.
Focus on bringing the breath into the lower part of your lungs
and then let it out slowly.”
Recognizing the voice, Angela snapped her gaze to the
front of the room. Sophie faced the class. When she noticed
Angela looking at her, she winked and smiled.
Ten

Dixie flew over the road and into the wind. Angela smiled,
barely feeling the jarring of horse’s hooves or the hard saddle
beneath her. It was just she and Dixie now, moving together.

With some regret she ordered Dixie to slow to a walk as
the road wound into town. It was not unusual for ranchers to
ride into town on horses, but it was still a sight for the tourists.
As Angela walked Dixie in the bike lane beside Main Street, a
little girl stopped eating her ice cream and squealed in delight.

“Look Mommy! A real horse!”
Angela waved to mother and daughter.
The light turned green and Angela walked the horse

through the intersection, looking up at the men hanging a sign
between the lampposts to announce the upcoming Fourth of
July Fair. It was hard to believe an entire month had passed
since she left New York and came back to Grace. She
dismounted Dixie and tied her to the post outside the local hay
and feed dealer.

“Ah, Angie!” Ralph met her at the open overhead bay
doors and gestured to the men behind him as they loaded a
pickup with hay. “You didn’t come to hassle us, did you?”

“You promised the oats and hay would be delivered
yesterday, Ralph.” Angela pulled their contract out of her jeans
pocket and slapped it at his chest. Ralph had not changed a bit
since his days of running the football for the high school
varsity team.

“I said I’d
try
.” He raised his hands in desperation. “We’re
busy here this time of year.”
“Funny, I don’t remember reading anything in the contract
about
trying
.” She took the contract that he handed back to her
unread, and then followed him through the warehouse. Bales
of hay were stacked ten feet high, forklifts beeping as they
moved bales from the staging area to the loading dock.
“You can’t be back here,” Ralph told her.
She ignored him and followed him into his office. Cole had
insisted they keep the same vendors, but if she couldn’t get a
break on the price she at least expected them to deliver on what
they promised.
“I can get a truck out there first thing tomorrow morning,”
Ralph said after flipping through a date book.
“We have horses and bulls coming on freight in a matter
of hours for tonight’s rodeo. You have one hour.”
“That’s impossible,” he complained.
“An hour.” She gave him one last pointed look before
turning on her heel and striding out of the warehouse and back
to her horse.
Frustration claimed her as she set her hands atop the saddle
and put her foot in the stirrup. She looked over Dixie’s back
and saw Maisy struggling with a large package. Angela quickly
retied the horse and hurried across the street to help the old
woman. The package she took from her was so heavy that
Angela nearly fell backwards.
“What’s in here?” Angela asked, impressed that the tiny
woman had been able to lift it.
“It’s my new tea cups,” Maisy explained, “oh, they are
lovely! Wait until you see them!”
Angela nodded and walked through the door to Maisy’s
shop, setting them on the cocktail table in the center of the
store. Jim Markey came out of the back room to greet them.
Angela smiled, remembering what Cole had said about him
being baptized in his boxer shorts.
“What are you doing?” Jim asked Maisy, and then kissed
her loudly. “You old bird! Don’t you realize you ain’t a spring
chicken no more! Them boxes are heavy.”
Maisy guffawed and slapped his shoulder. “You might
have helped me,” she teased.
“You didn’t give me chance now, did ya?”
“I didn’t want to wait. And Angie was nice enough to help
me.” Maisy moved to the package and quickly pulled off the
packing tape, reaching in to grab two of the little tea cups. She
gave them to Angela to hold, and then dove back into the box
to pull out one of the matching saucers.
Angela examined the pretty painted design of wisteria vines
winding along the side of the cup and over the gold trim.
“Pretty,” she said.
Maisy beamed.
“Well, they better be pretty enough for the money this
crazy lady spent on them.” Jim hugged his wife to his side to
soften the scolding. “But she’s worth it.”
Maisy looked up at her husband appreciatively and kissed
him gently.
Angela watched them, saddened. It was silly to miss
something she never had in the first place. Feeling absurd for
being jealous of an old married couple, she politely refused
Maisy’s offer to join them for tea, and excused herself.
“How are the dahlias doing?” Maisy asked as Angela gave
her a quick hug goodbye.
Angela winced. Her garden had gone from wilted to
looking as if it had been frozen in tundra and then crushed
beneath a two-ton tractor. Reading Angela’s expression, Maisy
smiled and reached into her purse.
“Here,” she said, handing Angela a clipped piece of
newsprint paper, “that’s a coupon for some fertilizer at the
nursery. It’s the best they have, and I’m sure it’ll do the trick. I
thought of you when I saw it.”
Angela smiled at the thought of this small old lady clipping
coupons on a Sunday afternoon and thinking of her friends.
“Thank you,” she said, not trusting her voice to say anything
else.
As Angela mounted Dixie and headed out of town, she
wondered about the love of friends. A spot in her belly
hollowed out.
****
Cole sipped his soda and listened to Reed go on excitedly
about one of the bulls that would be arriving later that
afternoon.
“I’m not so sure these circuit boys can handle Devil’s
Ticket.” Cole held up a hand to thwart the old man’s
enthusiasm. They both leaned back on the stands in the
deserted arena.
“Nah, they’ll be fine. Especially if Chad or Shawn pulls the
tag,” Reed said.
“Chad’s just a stupid kid with a big ego. He’s bound to get
hurt pretty bad. I guess it’ll serve him right to get crushed a
time or two,” Cole said, pondering. “Shawn might actually
have a shot at making it to eight on Devil.”
Reed nodded in agreement. “Eight seconds is a long time
when you’re on a bull.”
“Or a bronco,” Cole said dryly, flexing the muscles beneath
his cast.
“Well, I’m off,” Reed announced, “got a date with a filly.”
Cole chuckled. “Hope you mean a lady, and not my horse.”
“Unfortunately, your horses are all I got these days.
Dakota’s gonna try the walker today…” Reed’s voice trailed
off as he focused on the something across the arena. His old
face curved into a roguish smile.
Cole followed the direction of his gaze and saw Angie
walking in with a wave and a smile. She veered around the ring,
knowing better than to tread across the freshly raked dirt.
“Pretty, ain’t she?” Reed asked, watching her jog toward
them.
“Yeah,” Cole said uneasily. “She’s real pretty.”
“You ever have regrets?” Reed asked.
“Try not to,” Cole said.
“If you keep on keeping your distance from that one, I
reckon you’ll have a regret or two.”
Angie had reached them by now. She lifted herself over the
railing and into the stands, not bothering with the stairs.
“Afternoon, gentlemen. Did I miss the meeting? You both
look so serious.”
“I gotta go,” Reed said with a sly smile. “See ya, Cole.
Angie.”
Angie frowned as Reed tipped his hat and walked away. “Is
everything alright?” she asked Cole.
“All’s fine, far as I know.”
She sighed and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
They’d gotten good at avoiding each other. And when they
weren’t staying out of each other’s way, they were pulling off a
farce. Angie knew how to put up a front.
Even now she was going on about the hay and oats
delivery. Cole drowned out her voice and took a swig of his
drink.
She had taken on her tasks with honor and gusto. He didn’t
understand how she did it, but it was what she needed to do.
Angie had something to prove to herself as much as she was
driven to outsmart her dead father. He figured that’s what
made her muck stalls as gracefully as she balanced the books.
Something changed in her. Acceptance
of the
three
months she would spend in Grace had, at some point, turned
to determination. Perhaps that point had been reached on the
night she cried on the guest house porch, when she had told
him about memories that wouldn’t stay buried, and those that
refused to be remembered. Or maybe the turning point had
been the night he kissed her. He still couldn’t find it in himself
to regret that, even considering how it had turned out.
He hadn’t talked to her about any of it.
He kept his
distance, as she wanted him to. But that space was getting
harder to keep.
“The Cowhide Boots account is giving me issues. They
haven’t decided whether they want to sponsor the pro rodeo,”
Angie continued as Cole tuned back in. “If we don’t get a
headlining sponsor, the event will need to be cancelled and
we’ll have to give back all the entry fees that we’ve already
spent.”
He stepped toward her. “Stop it, Ang.”
She lowered her brow. “I beg your pardon?”
“Aren’t you getting sick of playing nice?” His heart beat
faster than it had any right to.
She backed against the railing and reached behind to grab
hold of it. “You don’t want to play nice. Would you rather I
yell? What shall we fight about?”
“I want you to stop pretending everything is okay.”
“But everything is-” She cut herself off and let go of the
railing, the pretenses dropping as she stepped toward him.
“Look, things have been awkward. Can’t we just forget about
that kiss?”
“Forget it?”
“I
have
to.”
“You have to?” He scratched his head. “No one can make
you do anything, Angie.”
“This is me saying that I have to forget about it, Cole. No
one else. Just me.” She looked away, but not before he caught
the regret in her eyes. “I’m leaving in two months.”
“You don’t have to do that, either.”
“I told you’d I’d give you three months. That’s it. It was
never my intention to stay.”
“It never is, is it?”
“Did you expect me to stay?” Angie demanded.
“No,” Cole said stiffly. “I expect you to leave. I expected
you leave fifteen years ago, too.”
She straightened her spine. Gray-green eyes hardened
against a sheen of tears. “After my mom’s funeral I went to the
pond. You followed me there. You kissed me.”
“I remember.”
“I’m almost twice as old as I was back then, but when you
look at me, when you kissed me a few weeks ago, it’s like I
became that kid again. That stupid, lovesick kid falling all over
herself just to get some boy to notice her.” Angie let out a
harsh, self-deprecating laugh. “And no matter how far I moved
away, or how much more sophisticated my life had become, I
never stopped being that stupid, lovesick kid. Different boys,
same stupidity.”
“Angie-”
“I know you saw them.” She grabbed hold of the railing
again, as though it were an anchor. “The first time you kissed
me. Afterwards you brushed my hair away. You saw the marks
on my neck. And you rejected me because of them.”
Cole closed his eyes and exhaled. A thousand words came
to mind, but he couldn’t utter a single one.
“I’ve always known,” she said quietly. “Back then I thought
it was because they made me ugly. As I got older I realized you
were only seventeen, and just looking to get the girl, not the
drama that came with her. But you didn’t tell anyone. You let
me go home to him. And that night he…”
She sucked in a sob and pressed her lips together, holding
her breath until she could trust her voice again.
“I’ve never really forgiven you for that,” she continued, her
voice steady, “and now you have the gull to stand there and try
to make me feel guilty for leaving?”
“I’m not that seventeen-year-old kid anymore.”
“Neither am I.”
She ducked beneath the rail and stepped off the stand. Cole
watched her retreat. His heart urged him to follow, but he let
her go.
****
Angela tucked a bag of fertilizer into the crook of her arm
and walked out of the garden supply store. She’d used Maisy’s
coupon; she owed it to her flowers to at least attempt to save
their lives. Besides, the coupon had been about to expire and
she had needed to fill the hours between her confrontation
with Cole earlier that afternoon and the circuit rodeo later this
evening.
She hadn’t meant to let all of that out with Cole. In truth,
she hadn’t even known all of that was still there. It left her raw
and hollow. As she carried the fertilizer to her car she tried to
focus on other things.
The rodeo area had seen steady increases over the last
month. Angela had cut costs and their newest promotion was
bringing in crowds. The tickets that had been sold for tonight’s
event brought in twice the revenue of the average weekly event
over the previous three years.
Remembering the message she had left the Cowhide
Boots’ marketing rep, Angela set the bag onto a bench and
pulled out her cell phone.
No messages.
Darn
.
She curled her hand around the phone and mulled over
strategies. Because she had run out of professional options –
and perhaps also because she needed a distraction from the
personal tornado that had become her life – Angela opened
her contact list and dialed Jeffrey’s number.
“I hoped you would call.”
“Jeffrey.” Angela refused to move even an inch for fear of
losing the signal. It was more miss than hit most days. “I’m so
glad I caught you.”
“It’s good to hear your voice, Angela.”
His voice made her think of their time together: kissing
him in a rowboat on a half-frozen pond in Connecticut; sitting
together at a coffee shop concert in Greenwich Village; hearing
him say her name for the first time. She lowered onto the
bench.
“Are you well?” Jeffrey asked.
“I am fine, yes.”
“Do you miss me yet?” Jeffrey asked.
“Jeffrey…”
“The other day I went to that little coffee house we found
in Greenwich Village. Café Riscatto. We went to a jazz concert
there. Do you remember it?”
“Jeffrey,” she said more forcefully, steeling herself against
the temptation to indulge in him. “This is not a personal call.”
“I still remember how beautiful you looked in that dress.”
Angela sat in the heart of Grace, surrounded by the bustle
of a small town. She closed her eyes and struggled to recall the
images of that long ago night in New York, her memories like
the hazy images of a barely remembered dream. Her dress had
been purple, but she could remember nothing else about it. She
could barely even remember what Jeffrey’s face looked like.
“When are you coming home?” he asked. “I miss you.”
Angela swallowed hard and opened her eyes. “I need your
help.”
“Oh?”
“I came back to Montana to claim a rodeo arena that my
father left me in his will. It’s not doing well. I need you to shop
it for me.”
“You want me to sell shares to a rodeo arena? To New
Yorkers? Angela, are you daft?”
“It’s a partnership. There are no shares. I want you to find
me an investor.”
Jeffrey laughed.
Angela set her forehead in her hand, barely noticing the
cool breeze that fluttered her hair. The bag of fertilizer sat
beside her. She wondered what Jeffrey would say if he knew
she had taken up gardening.
She wondered what Cole would say if he knew about
Jeffrey and what she was asking of him.
“Are you done?” she asked once Jeffrey had calmed down
and taken a breath.
“Look, honey, I feel for you, I really do. But come on, you
know this business.” Jeffrey paused. When she said nothing,
he continued, “It’s a hard sell.”