Chapter Thirteen
The buzz of her phone woke Grace the next morning. The lack of light filtering through the blinds told her it was too early to talk to anyone, especially since it was probably Claire. Grace turned over and covered her head with blankets until the buzzing stopped, followed by a beep for the message that was left.
Then the rooster crowed.
So much for sleep. Grace threw off the covers and reached for the phone. There were two messages. Darn cellular service. God only knew when the first one came in.
The first message was from Mildred Rock, Head Administrator at Oakridge Preparatory School. The boarding school. Grace pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello, Ms. Harper. I’m calling to discuss the details of your brother’s enrollment at Oakridge. I understand we’re coming up on the end of the school year, but if you could please forward transcripts from this past semester and two letters of recommendation from current teachers, we can begin our enrollment process. I’d also like to get a sense of which AP classes would most interest your brother. Please give me a call at your earliest convenience. Thank you.”
A hole wider than Death Valley opened in her stomach. Transcripts. AP classes, in middle school? How on earth was she going to explain JJ to Oakridge? And once she did, what if they didn’t take him?
Surely once they met him, they’d be charmed. The place had sounded perfect, or at least as perfect as possible—acres of space and even riding lessons. She remembered something about performing arts in their brochures, as well. She hadn’t focused on it at the time, only because she hadn’t known JJ could draw. Surely his sketching skills would give him a leg up. They had to take him. She couldn’t very well take him back to New York City with her. But two letters of recommendation? She might just hurl. She punched the button to save the message. She’d deal with it later.
The next message was from Claire, as she’d suspected—a very panicked Claire. Ricky had never returned her calls, so she’d finally fessed to Simon, who left St. Croix for Milan in a firestorm. Maybe it was the tone of Claire’s voice as she whined about the inconvenience of Grace’s absence. It had a hard edge, like Claire was annoyed that Grace’s family had died.
Had she just thought the word family? She must really be tired. She needed to call Ricky to find out what his deal was. She scrolled through her contacts and selected Ricky’s number. He answered immediately. Of course—it was too late to actually go to Milan.
“Thanks for siccing Claire on me, dear friend.”
“A lot of good it did. Thanks for coming through for me.”
Ricky fake laughed. “What’s going on? Claire wouldn’t go into detail.”
Grace sighed. “Family stuff. Exhausting stuff.”
“You gave up a trip to Italy. I hope it’s worth it.”
Me, too.
“I would’ve loved to bail you out,” Ricky continued, “but I didn’t think it was a good idea.”
Grace sat up in bed, now wide awake. “It was a great idea. You’re the only one Simon might have let go in my place.”
“I’ve got too many things going on here. But I have a better idea. You don’t need Italy, and you don’t need Simon. You’re a great photographer, one of the best I know. You don’t give yourself enough credit. Come work with me.”
“Leave Simon to work for you? I don’t think so.”
“See? That’s what I mean. It’s not an employment offer. It’s a partnership offer. We’ve both got the resume, the contacts, and the skills. I’ve got my eye on a studio in Soho. The place is huge. One side will be a rental studio and the other my—or our—studio. But we’ve got to move fast.”
The offer was intriguing, even if it was ridiculous. Leave Simon for Ricky? No one in their right mind would do that. Besides, she wasn’t good enough. She’d flop on her face. Still, nervous butterflies—clearly insane—fluttered in her stomach. “Sounds like you have it all figured out. What do you need me for?”
“Two’s always better than one. Even Simon knows that, he’s just too arrogant to admit it. We’d split everything, Grace. Profit, credit—”
“Start-up costs.”
Ricky chuckled. “Those, too.”
“And there the dream ends. I don’t have money to invest in a business.” And if this ranch didn’t suck her dry, JJ surely would. Still, she had to ask. “How much are you thinking we’d need?”
“In total? Fifty, sixty grand tops. Enough for the equipment, advertising, and the rent for the first six months.”
It was more tempting than she cared to admit. And utterly impossible. She constricted her stomach muscles, trying to squash the butterflies. “I can barely afford my daily Ramen noodle. I don’t have thirty grand.”
“It’s chump change for Spencer. I’m sure he’d spot you.”
“I’m not asking Spencer for money.” The words were so ingrained in her mind, they came out automatically.
“Don’t decide now. We can talk when you get back. Promise me you’ll seriously consider my offer.”
Grace exhaled loudly. “Fine, I promise.” She clicked the phone off and slid it onto the nightstand. Partnership. Her stomach quivered, the butterflies fighting for life. Could she and Ricky pull it off? Sure, right after she fed her unicorns. She shook her head. Caffeine. She needed coffee, pronto.
“Gracie, Gracie, come quick!”
Grace heard the porch door slam a second before JJ huffed into her room. Droplets of sweat beaded JJ’s red face. “The kid’s coming!”
“What kid?”
“The baby goat.”
“Now?”
“Like right now. Noah says it’ll be here any minute. Come on!” He started out the door.
“I’ll be right there. I’m in my pajamas.” She needed more than the short-shorts and tank top she slept in.
“There’s no time. Hannah’s having her kid!” He ran back in, grabbed Grace by the hand, and pulled her out of her bedroom, but not before she grabbed her camera and slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops.
They tripped their way to the barn. Hannah was standing, pacing. Noah sat outside the stall. He raised a warning finger to his lips. JJ tiptoed past him and planted himself inside the stall, several feet from Hannah.
Grace slid next to Noah. “Shouldn’t she be lying down?” Grace whispered.
“Could be lying or standing.”
Hannah circled, trying to lick herself.
“She’s close now. She’s been in labor since midnight.”
“You’ve been out here all night?”
He nodded. “With JJ. Somehow he knew and came down around three a.m.”
“Why didn’t you call a vet?”
“I did. Left messages. Apparently, both were already out on calls.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Without thinking, she got up on her knees and massaged his neck and shoulders. “I would’ve stayed with you guys. Why didn’t you wake me up?” Unfair question. How would Noah know to ask her, after they’d avoided each other since yesterday afternoon?
Noah closed his eyes and stretched his neck down then to the side. “That feels good.” His groan made her realize what she was doing. Her hands froze. “No, don’t stop, please,” he said.
She began to move her hands again, sliding her palms over his broad shoulders. She pressed her fingers into his suntanned skin and kneaded his tight muscles. He felt so good against her. She leaned into him, and her chest skimmed his back.
Noah sucked in a breath.
“There it is, Noah,” JJ squealed. “I see hooves!”
Grace dropped her hands as Noah jumped up and into the stall. “How about a nose?”
“Nope, not yet. That’s at the other end, silly.”
“No, JJ, the nose comes first, with the front paws. No nose means this is a breech birth.”
Breech? Dear Lord. Couldn’t anything go right?
“Gracie!” JJ’s voice shook with panic. “Where are you, Gracie? We need help.” JJ started swaying.
Grace rushed in. “I’m right here. What do you need?”
“Grab a towel.” Noah nodded at the pile in the corner and knelt next to Hannah, who had plopped down on the ground, panting. “JJ, listen to me. Once I pull the kid out, I need you to wrap that towel around it. Do you hear me?”
JJ whimpered in reply.
Grace grabbed the top towel from the pile. “Got it.” She leaned closer to Noah. “You know what you’re doing, right? You’ve done this before?”
“Uh, not really. But I Googled it, just in case.”
Great.
“Take the towel,” Noah instructed JJ.
“It’s okay, JJ,” Grace said in as soothing a voice as she could muster. “Take it, honey.” She held the towel out to him.
“It’s a breach. Come on, JJ, I need you here with me.”
Grace waited. Should she jump in? No, JJ could do this. It would be huge for him. Come on, kid.
Slowly, JJ inched toward Noah.
“That’s it, honey,” Grace said, draping the towel over his arms.
“On the count of three, I’m going to pull. Get ready, buddy.” Noah clutched a slimy back hoof with each hand. JJ knelt next to him, towel open.
The crazy awesomeness of the situation struck Grace: Hannah with a kid stuck in her belly, Noah ready to pull it out, JJ waiting to wrap it up—and Grace rooting for this baby goat more than anything she could remember in a long, long time.
Grace raised her camera and started clicking.
She photographed the drama of the pull, the birth of the kid, the blood, sweat, and tears—literally. She snapped JJ’s heroic swaddling, Noah swinging the kid to clear out its lungs, then placing it next to Hannah and helping the kid find its first meal from its mother’s teat.
And finally, she captured the victory dance—Noah and JJ bear hugging.
She swiped at a tickle on her cheek, a teardrop. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d teared up while photographing something.
The next thing she knew, she was pulled into the bear hug.
…
Barefoot and with damp hair from a shower, Noah sat on the porch swing, totally exhausted yet exhilarated. He felt like a proud new father. “That was some morning,” he said to Gracie as she came out the screen door. “Where’s JJ?”
“Snoring logs,” she said, guiding the screen door closed with her hand so it wouldn’t slam. She looked beautiful with her hair pulled back all casual-like and her skin glistening, fresh from a shower. They could have saved water showering together. The thought of him running his hands over her body, with or without the water, made him swallow hard. Easy boy, dangerous thoughts.
Gracie sat next to him. A whiff of lavender hit Noah’s nostrils, and every nerve in his body went on high alert. “You must be beat,” she said.
“A little.” He shifted, then forced a grin. “A lot.”
She placed her free hand over his and squeezed. Her touch sent a spark up his arm and into his frontal lobe, worse than a Popsicle head rush.
He jumped up, started pacing, then stopped and turned away from her, clutching the porch banister. She probably couldn’t tell through his jeans what the problem was, but he didn’t want to chance it.
He cleared his throat, trying to clear his muddled mind. The lack of sleep was catching up to him. “Hey, look, I was wondering, there’s a party in Tahoe. Tomorrow afternoon. You interested?”
“Where?”
“Uh, you know that lake house Vanessa’s parents have. It’s sort of become an annual thing of hers every May. It’s nothing fancy.” He shrugged.
“You want me to go to Nessie’s party?”
“Only if you want to,” he said quickly. “JJ’s looking forward to it. Starr will be there,” he baited. Gracie loved his not-so-little-anymore sister. “She’d be thrilled to see you. You were her favorite babysitter.”
“I was her only babysitter.” Her tone held mock indignation. “And the only one who could keep you two from killing each other, which is why your dad liked when I watched her. How’s she doing? Is she still skiing?”
“She made it into the aerial ski program and trained in Park City this winter. She’s hoping to qualify for Team USA.”
“The Olympics? That’s fabulous!”
“Yeah, it is.” He couldn’t help but smile, thinking about how well his little sister had done for herself, against the odds.
“Okay, you convinced me.” Gracie stood up and came toward him. “I’ll go. What time?”
Too easy. Something in her eyes confirmed that her interest in the party wasn’t totally about Starr. He didn’t care. He just wanted her there, with him. “We’ll leave at one.”
She placed her hand on his shoulder, then quickly withdrew it, like she’d been scorched. Maybe she had. The spot still burned him, and heat rippled through his entire body. “Thanks for the invite.” She stood there watching him—waiting, probably, for a response. Or was she issuing her own invitation?
He wasn’t quite in the right frame of mind to decide. If he misread the signs due to sheer exhaustion, he’d spook her again. She’d agreed to go to the party with him. That was a step forward he didn’t want to mess up. Still, it took every bit of willpower he had not to turn toward her, step closer.
“I’m going to take a nap,” he said. Maybe a cold shower. He pushed himself away from the banister and jogged down the steps with just enough forward momentum not to stop.
She didn’t follow him, thank God.