The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3) (10 page)

He backed away from her, away from the pen. Grace looked at him and he shook his head, repositioning his hat and then turning to land that steady blue gaze on her. “I don’t think so. I’ll take you, but I don’t have a reason to see Sylvia Martin.”

“Yes, you do.” She reached for him, tugging at his shirt sleeve and pulling him close. “You have to face her with the questions you’ve wanted to ask.”

“I should confront a woman who probably doesn’t remember me?”

“You don’t know that.”

He shook off her hand and started to walk away. She remained next to his side as he headed for his truck and trailer. “Brody, there’s a chance she will know you. Does it really matter? You need to see her, whether she knows you or not.”

“I don’t think so, Grace. I’m pretty good at letting go of the people who don’t want to be in my life.”

The words hit hard and she stopped walking, stopped following after him. He didn’t seem to care. But she did. Her heart broke for him, and with him and maybe because of him.

She wanted him happy. She wanted him whole. She wanted him in her life. She froze at that thought, that unbidden, unacceptable thought.

Chapter Ten

B
rody knocked on the door to Oregon’s house at 7:00 a.m. Monday morning. Inside he heard Oregon tell him to come on in. For a second he thought maybe he would change his mind. That he’d get back in his truck and they’d never know it had been him at the door.

Before he could make that great escape, the door opened and Oregon gave him a long, steady look. She pushed open the storm door, forcing him off the front stoop.

“You coming in?”

“I considered leaving. But here I am, all dressed up and nowhere to go.”

She swept her gaze over his new jeans, plaid shirt and best boots. “You’re wearing a knee brace.”

“That’s the first thing you notice?”

“Yeah, sorry. You do look nice, but you’re not the Martin brother I’m interested in, so basically you just look like a cleaned-up cowboy who happens to be chasing after someone else.”

“I’m not chasing anyone. And I’m using the knee brace until I have surgery to clean up the cartilage in my knee.”

“I didn’t know you were having another surgery or that you’d been to the doctor again,” she said as she motioned him in. “Come on in. I have coffee. And Grace, whom I’m sure is the person you’re here to see, is getting ready to go to Fort Worth.”

“Yeah, I’m going to drive her.”

“Oh, she must not know that. She had me take her to get her car out of Jake’s garage. She figures it’s safe to drive it now that Lincoln is locked up.” Oregon poured him a cup of coffee and he took a seat at the table in the center of the kitchen “So about this surgery?”

“I went to the doctor last week and they’ve decided to do surgery. No big deal. It’s outpatient. He said I can probably drive myself home.”

“When?”

“I’m not going to have it done until January. I have a lot going on between now and then. We’re doing a charity drive for Christmas, and I have some meetings with state workers about the horse camp.”

“Brody, that camp is going to be a great thing. Have you ever thought that it could turn into more than just a day camp? With cabins and workers, you could let kids stay on the ranch for a few days.”

“I’ve thought about it. That’s in the five-year plan.”

Footsteps in the hall ended the conversation. He stood when Grace entered the kitchen. For some reason he couldn’t speak. He felt as if he was sixteen again, when Lacy Dodson had asked to sit next to him at lunch. He hadn’t believed life could be so good.

She hadn’t wanted him for long, either. The memory brought him back down to earth. He cleared his throat and managed to be a grown man.

Barely.

“I thought I’d drive you to Fort Worth to see your grandparents.”

“You don’t have to.” She smoothed her hands down the sides of the floral dress she wore. It looked like one from Oregon’s shop—a combination of peasant-style and 1960s hippie. He didn’t know much about fashion, but he knew that this style softened the woman who could be a hard-as-nails cowgirl into a woman who looked easy to hold. It hugged her rounded form. It brought color to her cheeks. Somehow it made her brown eyes the color of chocolate and her hair the color of moonlight.

He let out a sigh because those thoughts, about moonlight hair and chocolate eyes, proved that a woman could make a man lose his mind.

“I know I don’t have to drive you. But I’m going there anyway, so you might as well ride with me.”

“You’re going?” She said it sweetly, getting what he meant. “I’m so glad you’ve decided to do this, Brody. You’ll be glad, too.”

“I’ve thought about it.” He cleared his throat, looking down at the tile floor. “And prayed about it.”

“Then, we should go,” she said, plucking at his sleeve, holding the fabric between her fingers. “Before you change your mind.”

“I’m not changing my mind,” he insisted. He’d been the one pushing this, wanting to know where Sylvia Martin was. Now that he knew, he was going to face her.

“You’re not the only one who has something to face,” Grace told him as they headed down the road a few minutes later. “I have to face myself and my grandparents. I have to face God with the horrible mess I’ve made of my life.”

“I think you’ve done that already.”

“Yes, maybe God, but my grandfather is another matter altogether,” she said with a teasing tilt of her lips.

Brody eased onto the main road. “I look forward to meeting him,” he said.

She laughed at that. “He isn’t as bad as I make him sound.”

“I’m sure he’s not. As a matter of fact, I think we’ll see him first.”

“That isn’t fair,” Grace protested. “You should let me go last.”

“No, this trip is yours. I’m just along for the ride, remember?”

She rolled her eyes and reached for the radio. Brody felt the tension breaking free inside him. He knew it would rebuild later, when he faced Sylvia. For now he could pretend they were on a nice country drive, headed anywhere but to their respective fates.

* * *

The big house loomed ahead of them. Grace felt everything inside her tense. “This is it.”

“It isn’t the inquisition or a firing squad,” Brody reassured her, reaching for her hand.

“No, it isn’t. I know my grandparents love me, so this isn’t really about them. It’s more about me. It’s about facing my mistakes and not hiding from them.”

“What would we learn if we were perfect, Gracie?”

She reached for her door as he parked. “I like when you call me Gracie. It’s as if I’m still that person. And you, Brody, you’ve always known who you are.”

“I think you know who you are, Grace,” he assured her. “I think you just had to take a detour on the journey. If you’d stayed here, you would have always wondered.”

“But the baby, this poor baby didn’t ask for all this.”

He shook his head. “What, to be born to a mom who will love him and take care of him?”

“But he won’t have...” Her baby wouldn’t have a father.

“He’ll have everything.”

She stepped out of the truck. “She.”

They walked to the front door of the house and she hesitated before hitting the doorbell. Brody pushed it. Twice. His hand rested on the small of her back, comforting her even if it was meant to hold her in place.

The door opened and her grandmother blinked a few times before her lips turned in a blinding smile.

“Grace, honey. Since when do you ring the bell?” her grandmother admonished as she glanced from Grace to Brody. “And who is your friend?”

“This is Brody. I’ve been staying with his soon-to-be sister-in-law. Brody, this is my grandmother, Betty Thomas.”

“Well, come in, both of you. We were just getting ready to have lunch. Your grandfather has to visit a few church members this afternoon, but he’s going to be so glad to see you. And your mom sent a necklace back for you. It’s beautiful. The beads are hand painted.”

The conversation continued in an easy way as they walked through the house to the kitchen and breakfast nook, where Grace’s grandfather was fixing a sandwich. When he saw Grace, his eyes widened. He put down the knife and rounded the counter to take her in a hug.

“My Gracie girl. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

“Granddad, I’ve missed you.”

“We’ve missed you, too. It’s been too long.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” She leaned against his shoulder.

He held her away from him, his gaze sweeping, acknowledging and then he hugged her again. “This isn’t something you can’t get through, Gracie. You’re made of strong stuff and that little baby of yours is going to be loved. And you’re loved. Isn’t that where all things begin, with love?”

“Yes, Granddad, but...”

“But nothing. You made a mistake. If you were the first person to make a mistake, that would be newsworthy. Is this how I wanted things to go for your life? No, probably not. After all, we’re grandparents and we wanted the fairy tale for our granddaughter. But this is your story to write, and this is the chapter where you learn lessons about yourself.”

Her grandmother put plates, bread, lunch meat and a tray of fruit on the counter. “And what you do next matters.”

“I’m going back to college and I’m going to get my nursing degree.” She put bread on two plates. One for herself and one for Brody, who stood on the other side of the island, watching out the French doors. “I’ll probably move home soon.”

Her grandmother circled an arm around Grace’s waist. “Now that we’re home, you could come home tomorrow.”

“Yes, I could. I just...” She glanced at Brody. He’d turned from the window and their gazes locked. “I’ve thought about staying in Martin’s Crossing. I enjoy small towns.”

“I can understand that,” her granddad said as his attention drifted to Brody. “You’re a Martin?”

“Yes, sir.” Brody held out his hand to her grandfather. “Brody Martin.”

“It’s good to meet you, Brody. I’m Howard Thomas. We’re grateful to you and your family for looking out for Gracie.”

“We were happy to do it.”

Grace pushed the sandwich with a helping of fruit across the counter to Brody. “Sandwich, Sir Galahad.”

He arched a brow and took the plate. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She joined him and her grandparents at the table where they held hands and her grandfather said a blessing. They ate, their conversation focusing on her parents in South America and the short mission trip her grandparents had taken. At one point she thought her grandfather might bring up what happened with Lincoln, but her grandmother shot him a warning look and suddenly he shifted the conversation to the weather.

After they ate, Grace’s grandmother took her for a walk. They exited through the side door of the house hand in hand, her grandmother cautious on the stone steps that she’d fallen on the previous year.

“Nan, before you say it,” Grace started to say as they stopped at the edge of the patio. “Before you tell me that God has forgiven me, I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

“Grace, what I don’t understand is why you keep apologizing to us?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I feel as if I’ve let my family down. I’ve let myself down. I’ve let God down. There is a long list of people I’ve hurt.” Including Brody, but she left him off the list. “Apologizing seems to be something I do a lot of these days.”

“Well, stop. You’ve apologized enough, and now it’s time to make a plan and move forward. What we’ve learned in ministry is that when people feel like they’ve failed, they tend to get stuck in the mistake and dwell in it. Every day becomes about that wrong choice or mistake. They relive it. They repeat it. Start with action. Pick a goal that you can achieve and move forward with a plan that will change things for the better.”

“I can do that,” she assured her grandmother.

Her grandmother guided her forward. They were heading toward the vegetable garden, although there wouldn’t be much to it this time of year. Her grandmother had grown up on a farm and wanted the connection with her past. She put out a big garden every year and spent weeks canning vegetables for winter. She said it kept her young.

“I blame your aunt for this,” her grandmother said as she looked the garden over, reaching to pull a few weeds. “Jacki has always rushed through life and away from God. I know she filled your head with nonsense about your gilded cage, because that’s how she felt as a teenager. She felt as if the whole world was watching every move she made. So she made sure they watched.”

“Aunt Jacki did encourage me to live a little, but she also warned me to stay away from Lincoln Carter. I tried to break things off.” Her hand stole to her belly. She closed her eyes. “When he found out I was pregnant, he tried to make me get an abortion. And when that didn’t work, he resorted to violence.”

“I’m so sorry we weren’t here. I’m also sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us.”

“I got away.” She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling the twinge in her back, the telltale sign of a growing baby. “I got away.”

“There is no gilded cage,” her grandmother repeated. “Yes, there are expectations. Your parents have them, we have them and I know the church has some. But in the end what matters most is that you have expectations for yourself, and you know you’re doing what God called you to do.”

Grace hugged her grandmother. “Thank you, Nan.”

They broke apart and began their walk again. “About the young man in the house...”

Grace kept a straight face. “He’s just a friend.”

Her grandmother gave her a pointed look but didn’t comment.

“He’s helped me through a lot,” Grace added.

“I’m glad he was there for you.”

So was Grace. It hadn’t been easy for him, but she was thankful he’d opened the door and let her in.

She and her grandmother picked the few green beans that still clung to vines. They put them in their pockets the way they’d been doing since Grace was a little girl. Her grandmother found a cantaloupe hiding beneath wide, yellowing leaves and held it out to her. Grace lifted it to her nose and inhaled the earthy sweetness.

“Dessert?” her grandmother asked as they turned and headed back to the house.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

“Do you have to leave today?” Nan asked as they neared the house.

Grace nodded. “Yes. Brody is going to visit his mother in a residential facility here. And then we head back.”

“She’ll come home when she’s ready, Bet,” Granddad called out from a nearby glider. Sitting next to him was Brody, hat in hand.

Grace held her grandmother’s arm as they approached the men. Brody stood, pushing his hat back on his head. She was struck by his presence, by her reaction to him being there, in her world. She had two worlds, she realized. She always had. She had lived in this world of privilege, but her heart had yearned for something else, something more basic. Her gaze connected with Brody’s and her heart answered the questions for her, what it was she’d been looking for, what she’d been missing.

If only the answer had come sooner. If only she’d recognized it earlier.

“Grace?” Brody’s voice eased into her thoughts.

“I’m sorry. I got a little lost in thought. We should go.”

“So soon?” her grandmother asked. When Grace nodded, Nan continued, “Then, come home soon. If not, we’re going to drive down there to see you.”