Heart of Grace (Return to Grace Trilogy #1) (19 page)

“Now you’re just making excuses.”
“Maybe I am.” Angela shrugged.
“You say it’s not your choice, but here you are, making
choices. You think they’re the right choices, but it’s all about
self-preservation, isn’t it?” Sophie wiped her eyes. “Maybe the
path you’re meant to take is the one you can’t control.”
Irritated, Angela took her purse from its spot on the
kitchen counter and fished out her keys. “If this is where I was
supposed to end up all along, why did my father hurt me? To
drive me away, only to bring me back? To make me have all
this awareness that I don’t know how to process? If that’s how
it is, I’d just as soon leave Grace, too, and go back to New
York. At least there I’m the one who calls the shots.”
“The thing is,” Sophie said quietly, her gaze on the floor,
“once you know stuff, once you know
grace
, you can’t just hop
on a plane and leave it all behind.”
“Watch me.” Angela shouldered her purse. “Sophie, I love
you and I’ll miss you like crazy. But I have to do this. Please
just trust me.”
Sophie nodded. “I know. I do trust you.”
“I don’t want to leave like this.” Angela sighed and
wrapped her arms around her friend. “You should come to
New York for Christmas. We’ll go skating at Rockefeller
Center and go shopping on Fifth Avenue. All that Christmas
in New York stuff.”
Sophie nodded and smiled. “I’d like that.”
“And I have a feeling Michael won’t stay away for too
long,” Angela winked.
“I hope the same goes for you, Ang.”
“You’re not getting rid of me. You’re my best friend,
Sophie. And that gives me the right to annoy you incessantly
with texts in the middle of the night to complain about my new
sleazy boyfriend.”
Sophie let out a watery laugh. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
****
The coolness of the day had continued into night. Cole lit
a fire – a suitable companion to brood by. He had done the
right thing and he would keep on telling himself that until it
finally settled in.
Angie would go back to New York and to her fancy life
and Grace would once again become a distant memory, as
would he.
He opened a small velvet box he had dug out of his
mother’s things in the attic. The ruby engagement ring sparkled
in the firelight. His mom had given it to him just before she
died, her eyes filled with tears he had been too young to
understand.
Now he understood all too well. He closed the box and
flicked it onto the coffee table. It bounced and landed on the
floor, where he left it.
Cole leaned his face into his hands and expelled a hearty
sigh. Everything there was to be said had already been spoken.
He flexed his hand into a fist and felt his muscles strain against
damaged bones. The arm was weak, but it worked.
It was time he also got back to an ordinary life.
Seventeen

Ralph raised his glass. Someone lowered the volume of the
music.
“Angie,” he said, “you’ve been nothing but a pain in my
rear since you came back into town.”
The room erupted into laughter.
“But,” he continued, “I’m sure gonna miss you. We all are.
Thank you for what you’ve done. Them sons-of-hades, oil
drilling bullies ain’t gonna take over
this
town!” Ralph lifted his
glass higher into the air – a warrior pose – and let out an
emphatic battle cry.
The gatherers at The Water Hole cheered in agreement,
slamming back their drinks and banging their fists on the
tables. Some swarmed her, offering their best wishes and
thanking her as the music level raised.
Angie excused herself and pushed back her chair. She
wandered to the bar, keeping one eye on the door.
“You did good, Angie.”
“Oh?” Angela set her empty glass on the bar, sparing Jack
only a momentary glance. “Which part was good? The part
where I saved the arena, and by extension the town, or the part
where I broke Cole’s heart?”
“The part where you did what you had to do. Cole loves
you, ya know.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She shook her
head and took her refilled glass from the bartender. “Besides,
if that were true, wouldn’t he be here?”
“He won’t chase you, Angie. He knows that’s not what he
need from him.”
“You think you know him so well, don’t you?” She turned
fully toward Jack. “Maybe you think you know me just as well.
So tell me, then…what will I do? Will I chase him? Or will I
spend my life waiting for him, thinking of what might have
been?”
“I think you’ll forget about him.”
A tear fell. She wiped it away and shook her head. “You’re
right. But only because I’ll force myself.”
Jack smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder his blue eyes
misty. “You’ve always been a fighter, Angie. Always willing to
do what needs to be done.”
She stepped back and surveyed the crowd.
Her friends
.
Sophie and Tina laughed as Reed told them some story, his
gnarled hands chopping through the air between them. Jeremy
stood across the room with some of the other ranch hands,
eyeing Tina – his new girlfriend – with a silly grin. Ralph played
pool with Jim Markey and Nadine, and by the look on the
men’s faces Angela presumed the maid was winning. Maisy
Markey and Joan Bradley plotted at a corner table, eyeing
Angela between whispers.
“I don’t want to leave, Jack.” She leaned her elbows back
on the bar, but when she turned in his direction, she found his
stool empty.
She took her jacket from the pegs by the door – the night
air had begun to chill. She gave her friends one last long look,
etching them into her memory before leaving The Water Hole.
****
The sun danced on the horizon, shooting sprays of gold
across the endless sky. Headstones rose against the colors,
silhouetted by the
setting sun. Some
of the oaks
had
surrendered to the hard breeze, their leaves scattered among
the grass.
Through all this color and movement, Angela shivered and
walked through the cemetery. She found her father’s grave
marker beside her mother’s. Dead leaves crunched beneath her
knees as she lowered herself to the ground.
No one had chiseled “Beloved Father” on the marker. It
listed only his name and the years he had spent in his short,
miserable existence.
She let out a measured breath and closed her eyes to the
overwhelming scent of carnations and roses, peonies and
dozens of other floral creations.
The people of Grace
cherished their dead. They honored those parts of the family
tree that had fallen back to the ground.
There were no flowers on Henry’s grave. She was surprised
it made her sad.
Her eyes shifted to the ground beneath her. The grass had
grown back over the hole they had dug to lay him in. The cool
nights had forced the new lawn into dormancy, but it would
grow again in the spring. She thought of Henry’s body six feet
below, the flesh rotting from his bones, eaten by worms as he
slowly returned to the earth.
Once upon a time he had been so strong. The evidence of
that had branded her and there was nothing she could do to
change those scars.
“I hate you.” She whispered, although it was his memory
she spoke to, for the man was no more. “But you can’t hurt
me anymore. I won't let you.”
Her eyes fluttered closed and she struggled to keep the
tears back, refusing to cry over his grave. The memories were
like shotgun pellets now, hitting her in succession with ruthless
force. She caved beneath the pain of it all and finally let out the
tears, her lips pressed tight to keep from crying out.
“I hate what you did,” she said again, opening her eyes
toward heaven. “And you allowed it to happen. You could
have stopped it, and you didn’t.”
And then she felt a presence wrap around her like warm
velvet, soothing and comforting. She felt her shoulders give
under the weight of it, even as the butterflies in her stomach
left her weightless. She had heard once that finding faith was
like drowning in joy. The idea of that had been an absurd
impossibility at the time. How on earth could one suffocate
and die from pleasure? But now the joy rose, so overwhelming
she thought she might stop breathing, and it didn’t matter.
There was no need to breathe.
Her father’s face filled her vision. She flinched, closing her
eyes against the memories that were to come. The image
persisted. She braced, expecting to see hatred in her father's
eyes. Instead, he smiled. She was a little girl, possibly even a
baby, curled in her father’s arms. Laughter echoed through
him, resonating through her body. And then her mother’s
voice, so soft and loving, filled her ears the moment before her
face came into Angela’s vision. The child Angela had been
looked from her mother to her father, love sparkling in both
sets of eyes.
Angela lifted her eyelids and crashed back down to earth.
The joy burned away. Her chest tightened. The colors around
her seemed so dull compared to what she had just experienced,
the air in her lungs thick and unsatisfying. Unsure of what to
make of this, and nearly convinced she was going crazy, she
swallowed hard and stood. She walked away from the grave
and fought the urge to look back, shaking the image of her
father’s smiling face out of her mind.
****
She hadn’t meant to stop by the rodeo arena, but as she
passed the sign announcing the turn to the Bullpen Arena, she
found herself turning onto that dirt road. She had made this
drive in a similar fashion three months earlier, with the summer
heat in her lungs and a weighty decision on her mind.
Today the air was chilled, the summer quickly fading away.
The circuit season was over, the pro event behind them, and
the arena would soon shut down for winter repairs.
She needed to see it one last time.
The smell of dirt lingered in the air. She used her key on
the outer gate and closed it behind her with a clank, the sound
echoing through the empty space. She breathed in, held the air
in her lungs and turned toward the ring.
Cole squatted in the center, his gaze lifted to heaven; dirt
sifting through his fingers.
Angela considered leaving, but then he looked up and saw
her. Still holding her breath, she walked to him.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, releasing the breath
into a puff of vapors.
Cole met her at the rail. “I could ask the same of you. I
thought you’d be at the airport by now.”
“I have a few hours before my flight leaves.”
“Saying goodbye to all this?”
“Yeah.” She nodded and curled both hands around the
newly painted rail, unable to look him directly in the eye. “Reed
will make a good partner.”
“He will. We’ve already laid out plans for the rollout of the
spring programs.”
She angled her gaze up, daring herself to look into his eyes.
He stared at her across the bridge of his nose, the Caribbean
blue as cool as the encroaching autumn all around them.
“Any news?” She gestured to his arm, which was no longer
bound in a cast.
“The doctor released me. I leave next week. Denver.”
“Good. That’s good.” She nodded, silently praying she
wouldn’t cry.
“Look, I gotta get some practice in.” Regret flickered in his
eyes for a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.
Ask me to stay. Please. Even if it means my deal with Jeffrey is off
and we lose the arena. Please ask.
He said nothing else, the fence rung between them.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Goodbye, Cole.”
She turned to leave but he grabbed her hand and jerked her
back. She froze for a moment, tears spilling from her eyes. He
leaned over the rail and kissed her, his lips hard and urgent. She
kissed him back, his tears warm against her chilled skin.
He released her and stepped back, diverting his gaze.
“Goodbye, Angela.”
She watched him walk away, entertaining the fantasy of
jumping over the rail, leaping into his arms, and telling him she
was staying.
But he hadn’t asked.
And she loved him too much to sacrifice his arena by
staying.
****
Angela pressed her hand against the window as the plane
taxied down the runway. She’d have liked to see the leaves
change, and to watch the season’s first snow falling over
Starhorn Ranch. The plane lifted from the ground. She closed
the window screen, unable to bear watching Montana fade
away.
She slunk back against the seat, falling beneath the weight
of the decisions she had made. Whatever her life was to be
from this point forward, Angela knew that Grace had shaped
her. A strange sense of hope settling in, knowing it was not all
in vain.
The plane climbed higher and eventually leveled out in the
sky.
“The pilot has switched off the seatbelt sign,” the flight
attendant announced, “feel free to move about the cabin.”
Angela leaned her seat back and unlatched her seatbelt. She
thought of her father’s grave thirty thousand feet below, and
the ghosts of the memories she had left behind in Grace.
“It looks like we’ll have smooth skies between here and
LaGuardia,” the attendant continued, “so relax and enjoy the
flight. We’ll begin beverage service shortly.”
Angela sighed and closed her eyes.
The burden lifted.
****
Angela awoke minutes after dawn to the sound of a car
horn. Tossing back the covers, she stood from the bed and
walked across
the hardwood floors
Manicured
trees
lined
the
street,
brownstones. The offending noise polluter – a yellow cab –
waited below. The driver honked the horn again.
She scowled at him and went back inside, thinking of long
rolling hills and snow-topped mountains; trees that reached to
the sky and birds drifting on the breeze.
Her phone beeped. She scooped it up and made her way
to the kitchen.
to
a
tiny balcony.
bordering
rows
of
“In a hurry this morning, aren’t we?” she said, lifting the
phone to her ear.
“I knew you’d be up. I know you well.”
Angela smiled into the phone and lifted a coffee mug from
the cupboard. “That’s annoying, Jeffrey.”
“But also endearing.”
“Hardly.” She poured her coffee and offered up a silent
prayer of thanks for automatic coffee makers. “Did you have
a chance to review my presentation?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m calling. I’d like to go over it before
we present it to the board tomorrow.”
“I’m heading in shortly. Meet you in your office first
thing?”
“I’m afraid my day is booked solid.” Jeffrey exhaled deeply
into the phone. “We’ll have to discuss it over dinner.”
“Jeffrey…”
“I know. I said I’d give you time. It’s just business. Rinaldi’s
at eight?”
“Your office at seven.”
“Fine. We’ll order in.”
“Goodbye, Jeffrey.”
“Wait…don’t hang up…It’s good to have you back,
Angela.”
She squeezed the bridge of her nose. “You took care of the
coalition. A deal’s a deal. See you at seven tonight.”
Angela hung up the phone and threaded her fingers
through the mug handle. The cab driver honked his horn again,
three times in succession. She slammed the mug down, stalked
to the balcony and tossed open the doors.
“Get off your lazy bum and walk up to the door!” she
yelled down to the street.
The driver yelled something in response, but by then
Angela was already back inside and heading for the shower.
****
Autumn snow fell over Manhattan. Angela spread her
fingers over the cold glass of her office window and watched
the flakes flutter against the night sky. They melted before
touching the ground.
“Wow, look at that! This cold snap is affecting the whole
nation.” Angela’s assistant laid a folder on Angela’s desk and
stood beside her at the window. “They say it’s likely to
continue all week.”
Angela turned from the window and pressed the button to
close the blinds. “Go ahead and go home, Stacy. The roads will
be crazy, so you should get a head start. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“How late are you staying?”
“Late.” Angela picked up the folder. “I have a meeting with
Mr. Sykes at seven.”
“Oh.”
“Is there a problem, Stacy?”
“Not at all.” Stacy lifted her brow and pursed her lips, then
turned on her heel and left.
Angela slapped the folder back onto the desk and stood,
pacing her office as the sound of Stacy’s footsteps faded down
the hall. Along with the new title, Angela had been given a
bigger office on a different floor, but her reputation as Mr.
Sykes’ mistress had followed her.
She shivered and reached below her desk for her shoes,
having no doubt that Jeffrey had helped to perpetuate those
rumors.
Unable to concentrate on work, Angela slipped her shoes
back on and scooped up her laptop and notebook. She still had
an hour before her meeting with Jeffrey, but she wanted to get
it over with and get home while the storm was still benign.
Since his secretary had already left for the evening, Angela
knocked once on Jeffrey’s door and let herself into his office.