Heart of Grace (Return to Grace Trilogy #1) (17 page)

Cole looked at Angela, his expression quizzical and amused
all at once. “Angie’s loyalties,” he said, “are for Angie. She’s
not a pit bull.”
“No.” Jeffrey said. “Her bite’s gentler. But you’d know
that, of course.”
Cole stood and pushed back his chair, the hard scraping of
wood legs on the tile floor gaining the attention of the other
patrons. A fine layer of anger slid into his eyes; his hand fisted,
but he kept his cool and loosened his fingers. She knew it cost
him.
Jeffrey stood and straightened his jacket. “It was a pleasure
to finally meet you face to face, Mr. Jordan.” He then turned
to Angela. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Angela. The
offer stands.”
She nodded. “And so does my answer.”
“You’ll change your mind. I’ll be in touch.” Jeffrey roamed
his eyes over her body, leaving no doubt about his intentions.
He wanted her back, as much in a romantic sense as in a
professional one. As he walked toward the door she had the
urge to throw her coffee mug at him. Since there were too
many witnesses, she had to settle for a glare at his back.
“I was at The Water Hole with Ralph. Jim Markey stopped
by and said he saw you over here. Thought you needed
rescuing.”
“My hero.” She tightened her jaw and rubbed the back of
her neck, the beginnings of a headache creeping into her
temples.
“Jim’s a good guy. Albeit a bit crazy, but he does right by
his friends.”
“Agreed, but I was talking about you.” Angela shoved her
trembling hands into her pockets. “Thank you.”
“He come by to rehash old times?” Cole asked.
“Something like that.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Cole said, “he’s just a pampered
pretty boy with an expense account.”
“Yeah. I know. Do I need to explain?”
“What needs explaining? Seems clear to me.”
Angela nodded. “Don’t cash his check. I’m cancelling the
banners first thing.”
“Angie-”
“I’m serious, Cole. We’ll get the money another way. I’ll fly
to New Mexico to beg Cowhide Boots for their sponsorship if
I have to.”
“Okay, Ang. You got it.” He adjusted his hat and opened
the door for her. “What’d you ever see in that guy, anyway?”
Angela shrugged and stepped outside into the cool and
moonless night. “A pampered pretty boy with an expense
account,” she said easily, and then, “goodnight Cole.”
She walked away, leaving him to wonder whether she was
joking.
Sixteen

Angela set her grocery bags onto the kitchen counter and
reached for the light switch. Her fingertips brushed something
warm and hairy. She lurched back and rammed into the sharp
corner of the counter. Pain shot through her hip and down her
leg.

“Who’s there?” A figure moved toward her, silhouetted by
the moonlight streaming through the window. Angela cried out
into the darkness and scurried away from the shadow. “Who
are you?”

“Well, now, that’s not a nice welcome for a guest in your
home.” The lights flickered on. A large man in a beige suit and
a turquoise bolo tie settled companionably onto one of the bar
stools at the kitchen peninsula. A large grin stretched beneath
his bulbous nose. “Then again, this isn’t exactly your home, is
it?”

“Who are you?” She fumbled behind her back and
managed to pull a knife from the butcher block. “What are you
doing here?”

“Ah, come on. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just wanna talk.”
The man leaned over the counter. “Put that knife away before
you hurt yourself. You left the door unlocked, so I let myself
in. No harm intended. You country folk sure do have a trusting
nature, but you ain’t a country folk, are ya?”

“Who. Are. You.” Angela’s grip tightened on the knife.
“Put it down.”
“Tell me who you are first.”
He huffed and straightened the huge brim of his hat, which

matched the color of this suit perfectly. “Name’s Tanner. I
come to talk. Just talk. So put the knife down and you’ll get me
outta here real quick.”

She set the knife onto the counter behind her, but stayed
close to it.
“I hear you got rights to a nice piece of property after your
Daddy died.” Tanner stood and stepped around the peninsula.
“But it was never supposed to go to you, was it? I suggest you
leave now and let the arena go where your Daddy intended.”
“You’re with the Montana Drilling Coalition.”
Tanner’s laugh bounced off the walls and shook his large
belly. He slapped a hand onto the counter. “Well, well. She’s
as smart as her fancy degree says she is. And since you’re so
smart, honey, I know you’ll do what’s right.”
“What’s ‘right’ is that you leave my house. Now. That
arena is rightfully mine.”
“I beg to differ. You best be careful talkin’ ‘bout stuff you
know nothin’ about. You see, your Daddy promised that arena
to the coalition when you was just a little girl scrapin’ your
knees at the playground. He come close to runnin’ it to the
ground. If not for my investment, it woulda closed down
before you were outta your training bra. Now, he and I had an
agreement, but he didn’t pay up like he promised, so we
worked out another deal when he got sick. He dies, we get his
share.”
“My father wasn’t known for keeping his promises.”
“Let’s hope his daughter’s more honorable.” Tanner took
two steps closer.
Angela reach behind her back and closed her fingers
around the knife handle.
“When we found out he double crossed us – again – we
was sure it’d only be a matter of time before you left and the
land would be ours. You weren’t supposed to stay this long,
Miz Donnelly.”
“Do you have this agreement between my father and the
coalition in writing?” Angela asked. “If you do, I suggest you
fight this in court. Otherwise, you have no recourse.”
Tanner laughed again and reached behind her to grab the
knife from her hand. He held it down at his side. “I don’t think
so, Miz Donnelly. We got plenty of recourse, and plenty of
resources. Now we ain’t suggesting you just up and give it to
us. We’re not unreasonable. You’ll be paid for it.”
“Even if sold you my half, you’d never get the other half.”
“Oh, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. There’s enough oil
beneath these soils to run this state for three decades. Drilling’ll
bring jobs to this town. It’s the right thing to do and there’s a
whole of lot of people wanting things to go in that direction.
Mr. Jordan’s a smart man, just like yourself. I think you’ll both
see the light. Eventually.”
Tanner straightened and flexed his fingers on the knife
handle. He blocked her retreat.
“You don’t scare me.” Angela lifted her chin, her pulse
scrambling as she eyed the knife.
A knock at the door had Tanner snapping his head in that
direction. Angela pushed him out of the way and bolted past
him. She made it to the door with him on her heels, opening it
as he caught up.
Jeffrey stood on her porch. Tanner stopped cold behind
her. Shaky with relief, she opened the door wide.
“What’s going on here?” Jeffrey stepped into the house.
“Who the hell are you?”
Tanner set the knife on the coffee table. “Just having a chat
with this fine young lady, but I’ll be on my way now.” He
tipped his hat and walked out the door. “Good day, Miz
Donnelly. I trust you’ll make the right decision.”
Jeffrey shut the door behind Angela’s unwanted guest.
“You alright?”
“No.” She raked trembling fingers through her hair. “Why
are you here? I thought you left days ago.”
“You’re welcome.” He picked up the knife and returned it
to the kitchen.
She counted his steps, her heart still beating fast against her
ribs. His steps closed in on her as he returned from the kitchen.
She sighed and turned into his arms, comforted by the feel of
his body, the warmth of his scent; the way her face fit into the
curve of his neck.
He held her until the trembling ceased and her limbs went
weak.
“Come home,” he whispered, brushing his fingers through
her hair, his eyes intent on hers. “Come with me tonight. Get
away from these rednecks. We’ll go to that bistro in uptown
again. I’ll take you to Vermont. Paris. Wherever you’dlike.”
“How can I leave now?” She moved out of his arms. “That
man is from the Montana Drilling Coalition.”
Jeffrey stared at her blankly.
“They want my father’s arena,” she explained. “Apparently
he promised to deed it to them upon his death. But he only
owned half, and he gave that half to me instead. They funded
him years ago to keep the arena running and they want the
return on their investment. And it was dearest Daddy’s way of
sticking it to Cole, too. All the way from the grave.” She
grunted and kicked the ottoman.
“Montana has plenty of land. Surely, they don’t need a
pithy acre or two and a worn down arena.”
“The arena sits on more than a thousand acres. The
coalition has been moving in on this town since I was a little
girl. They’ve owned the land surrounding the arena for as long
as I can remember. It’s been a black cloud hanging over this
town. My father’s land is the last chunk of the puzzle. They
need all the land to get the zoning changed.” Because her knees
were weak, she sat down.
“How on earth did your Dad ever afford a thousand acres?
You said your family struggled financially growing up.”
“He won it in a card game a few years before oil was found
in the area.”
Jeffrey sat on the coffee table in front of her. “You’re
kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
“So let them get the land and come home. Your job is
waiting for you in New York.” He took her hand.
Angela moved away from him. “If they start drilling for oil
here, it will pollute this town.”
“Why should that matter to you? Because this town has
been so good to you?” he scoffed.
Angela snapped her gaze to his and glared at him through
the censure of his tone.
Jeffrey shook his head and took her hand again, undeterred
when she pulled it away once more. “Let me fix this. You know
I can.”
“How can you possibly fix this?”
“Money fixes a multitude of things, Angela.”
“You don’t have the amount of money it would take.
They’re too strong. They stand to lose billions because of me
and Cole. If they can’t get the arena from us they’ll go to the
state, or the federal government. I can only imagine the
number of politicians they have in their back pocket.”
She slumped in her seat, her head in her hands, and exhaled
sharply. “They will never stop. Ever.”
Jeffrey laid his hands on her knee. “I can guarantee that
they will.”
“How can you be so sure? Do you have a few billion dollars
you never told me about?”
“Let’s just say I have some influential people in my back
pocket, as well. I’ll call in some favors.”
“You would do that?” She lifted her head.
“Of course.” Jeffrey pulled at his cuffs and stood. “But I
don’t intend to do it out of the goodness of my heart.”
Angela glared at him. Her pulse raced. “What do you
want?”
“You. Back at the firm. I’ll even give you a promotion.
How does Senior Analyst sound with a twenty thousand dollar
signing bonus? In addition to the thirty percent raise I already
promised, of course.” He straightened his tie. “Corner office.
First class travel. All the perks. Seems like a win-win, doesn’t
it? You get to be the hero and save this little podunk town, all
the while avoiding the unemployment lines. And it’ll save me
from having to go through the trouble of sullying your
reputation.”
“That’s it?” Angela asked, standing. “I come back to work
for you and you make the coalition go away? What about you
and I? On a personal level, I mean.”
Jeffrey walked to the door. “I’m not a monster. I have no
intention of coercing you back into my life on a personal level.
I prefer that to happen of your own free will, and not because
I bribed you. But,” he added, opening the door and turning
back to her, “I have confidence things will work out in a
mutually satisfying fashion.”
“Make the coalition go away,” Angela said, holding the
door open as Jeffrey stepped onto the porch. “And say nothing
about this to Cole, or to anyone else. After the arena is mine
and signed over to the new partner, I’ll come back to the firm.”
Jeffrey took her chin in both hands, joy shimmering in his
eyes. “You made the right choice. We’re good together, you
and me. Always will be.”
“If I hear one peep from the coalition. Or if I hear they’ve
stepped even a hundred feet near Cole, the deal’s off.”
“Don’t worry,” Jeffrey laughed, “I’ll keep my promise.”
He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her face away.
“I will earn your love again.”
Angela crossed her arms over her chest and peered into the
night sky.
“I’ll see you in a few weeks.” He placed a hand on each of
her cheeks and held her there from a moment.” Let me know
your flight arrangements when you make them and I’ll send a
car to pick you up at the airport.”
He stepped off the porch as Cole’s truck turned into the
main driveway. The door to the truck slammed shut, the only
sound in the cool air. Angela stood in her doorway, watching
Cole over the distance of several dozen meters. Jeffrey started
the rental car’s engine and pulled onto the highway.
Cole stood by his truck, watching Jeffrey’s taillights
disappear down the backside of the hill, then he looked at
Angela.
He had come to her rescue earlier that week. Even through
the distance and haze of a moonlight evening she could see in
his eyes that he would come to her rescue again, if only she’d
ask. In spite of whatever may have happened between them –
whatever could have
been –
Angela
knew
it no longer
mattered.
She was going back to New York, back
home
.
Angela shook her head and walked back inside the house.
She locked all the doors and windows and took her collection
of kitchen knives into the bedroom. She tucked the biggest
knife beneath her pillow. Just in case.
****
The summer heat had taken a hiatus and the chilly air
hinted of autumn. Cole sat on the fence skirting the main
pasture. It was the time of day when the grass seemed a little
brighter, the sky a deeper blue; before the dulling glare of the
noon sun and after the hazy fog of early morning.
His newest filly, Dakota, pranced in the center of all these
colors, like a painting come to life. She’d grown good and
strong and soon the time would come when he could train her.
That part was always bittersweet. He enjoyed seeing his horses
mature, much like he imagined he’d have enjoyed seeing his
own children grow, but he hated having to say goodbye.
This land, and everything on it, belonged to him. Given as
an inheritance, he had not worked particularly hard to get it,
but he worked hard to keep it. The pride welled and bubbled;
slow, easy and comfortable. It was about much more than
possessions, more than status. It was his heart, his roots. And
even as he sat there now, and the urge to leave tugged
insistently at his cowboy heart, he recognized the value of
being firmly planted, and of always having a home to return to.
He wanted the rodeo and he bowed his head, wishing again
for quick healing. And he wondered if it really was the rodeo
he wanted, or if he just wanted to run. There was no mistaking
the grip Angie had on his heart. Even Jenna hadn’t had as
much hold. He supposed it was bound to happen eventually.
The man he had been was closer now, and he felt himself
making a conscious effort to back away from that slippery
slope. It would cost them both. He wasn’t about to put her in
the position of making the choice to stay in Grace for him.
He’d been down that road once already.
Two weeks ago he had seen Jeffrey leave her house. Angie
hadn’t said a word about it. When he had asked her about it
point blank, she had avoided the answer like a skilled corporate
executive. He had almost forgotten about the hoity toity suitwearing businesswoman she’d been when she had shown up
on his doorstep at the beginning of the summer.
Apparently, Angie hadn’t forgotten.
Her car pulled up next to the guest house. She got out,
opened the trunk and dragged a large box out of it. It was
bigger than she was. She tried to lift it off the ground, only to
let it fall back to the dirt. Cole hopped off the fence.
Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. She wore
black slacks and a light gray sweater, her eyes smudged with
dark makeup.
She
straightened and lifted her eyes to his
as
he
approached. The look she gave him held no significance, as
though she had no idea she had the power to command him
to follow at the slightest crook of her finger.
Images flashed through
his
mind of quiet Saturday
evenings in front of the fire, curled up with Angie on the sofa.
Then the thought of Jeffrey took over the fantasy and all Cole
could see was Angie’s ex-lover standing on her porch, her face
in his hands.
“I got this at the hardware store.” Angie, oblivious to his
thoughts, tried to lift up the package again. “It’s really heavy.
Joe helped me get it in the car.”
Cole looked at the picture on the box. “A punching bag?”
She shrugged. “Impulse buy.”
“Did you sell more of your suits to afford this thing?”
She lowered her eyelids, dark lashes sweeping her pale skin,
and lifted a shoulder. “My finances are none of your business.
I’m getting along fine.”
“Fine,” he sighed, “none of my business.”
He helped her carry the box to the back porch of the guest
house, and then opened it to remove the heavy leather bag.
“You have a different cast on,” Angela said.
Cole set the bag against the wall and turned to her, looking
down at the splint brace on his arm. “Yeah. Couldn’t talk the
old doc into freeing me completely, but this’ll do.”
“Can you compete with that?”
“I probably could, but that doesn’t mean I will. Not until
the doctor releases me from physical therapy. And he has a
mindset on torturing me with that for a bit longer. Did this
thing come with a stand? Or does it need to be hung from the
ceiling?”