Chapter Twenty-Three
Eight days later, after a red-eye to San Francisco and small but very bumpy hop to Reno, Grace pulled into the Stop-n-Gas.
Mrs. Walters met her at the counter, stoic-faced as usual. No doubt she knew Grace had left. Was the old woman surprised to see her? Grace couldn’t tell.
Grace grabbed a bag of Skittles and held out a dollar bill.
Mrs. Walters ignored the money. “I heard that fancy art show of yours went well. JJ was sky-high with pride earlier this week, telling anyone who’d listen.”
Grace grinned and shoved the dollar into her purse. “Yeah, it did.” She’d called Noah and JJ the morning after the exhibit, right after meeting Spencer for coffee, and given them a play-by-play of the evening. For once, Grace wasn’t annoyed that word had spread to Mrs. Walters. She was proud of what she and JJ had accomplished.
“Congratulations. You done good.” The old woman’s face relaxed, not into a smile—Mrs. Walters never smiled at Grace—but at least that terse look of condescension erased. The words, and the sentiment, made Grace’s heart swell. Acceptance. An unfamiliar feeling. She could get used to it.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in New York?” Mrs. Walters asked.
Mr. Lincoln was the only one who knew Grace’s plans, and he had an obligation to be discreet. Though she had a hard time believing Sam hadn’t run his mouth once Mr. Lincoln notified the bank that Grace would be current with the mortgage by next week. Mr. Wilds had come through with a buyer for her father’s collection, and Spencer would spot her the money until the deal went through.
Grace’s eyes locked with the old woman’s. “My plans changed.”
Everything had fallen into place. Everything except…
“Does Noah know you’re here?” Mrs. Walters asked, raising a brow.
Grace had planned to tell him when they spoke on the phone last Sunday. But something in his voice had stopped her. He’d been happy about the success of the show, but otherwise reserved. Almost distant. And she’d panicked. It’d be easier for him to turn her away over the phone. Too easy. So instead, she’d packed two suitcases and put everything else in a container, ready to ship if—hopefully, when—need be, and flown to Reno.
She wanted to face Noah, see his reaction when she told him she’d changed her mind. More than that. These past two weeks, she’d changed. Period. She wanted to be home, with JJ, with the animals, with all the craziness. With Noah.
“No. I—I want to surprise him.” As she said those words, the reality of what she’d done sank in, and her stomach pinched like she’d swallowed a tumbleweed. She’d turned down Spencer. She’d turned down Ricky’s partnership. She’d turned down New Day’s grant because the winner had to be a New York resident. Then she’d packed up and given notice on her rent-controlled apartment.
She had no job, no place to live, no Plan B. What would she do if Noah didn’t want her? She had no clue.
But he wouldn’t turn her away, not again. He wanted her, he wanted them, as much as she did. She was sure.
Still, her certainty did nothing to pacify the prickle in her stomach. Because she was also sure she’d hurt Noah when she left. Ripped his heart wide open, just like she had her own.
“Promise me you won’t call to warn him.” She held Mrs. Walters’s gaze, refusing to let it go until she got some indication that the woman wouldn’t go blab as soon as Grace left the store. This news would reach the ranch faster than her rented four-wheel drive on wings.
Mrs. Walters nodded, barely. Then the old woman smiled.
…
“Can we call Gracie today?” JJ asked as Noah walked into the kitchen.
“You can call her anytime, you know that.”
“Yeah, but this time, will you talk to her, too?”
Noah swallowed the lump before it fully formed in his throat. It’d been a week—felt like a year—since he’d talked to her, when she’d called to tell them about the success of their art show. No Cowboy Required. He had to hand it to her; the name fit well and could’ve doubled as Reno’s tagline.
She’d sounded good, content. Distant. He’d had a half dozen things ready to say, things he’d practiced in his mind. Paragraphs worth of how he’d messed up, how unworthy he was, but how he wanted a second chance. None of it came out. And none of it mattered, except for two words: come back.
Those hadn’t gotten out, either.
He’d had his shot; twice. Once he’d sent her away, the next time, he’d let her go. And what had he learned? Both hurt just as bad.
So, no, he didn’t want to talk to Gracie today. Maybe with time, he’d change his mind, hurt less, move on. Then maybe he could deal with just talking to her.
Noah heard the car pull up a second before JJ hollered, “She’s back! Noah, come quick!”
Noah stopped at the screen door and watched JJ half-tackle Gracie as she climbed out of her rental car. “I knew you’d be back,” JJ said. “I told Noah. He didn’t believe me.”
Gracie wrapped her arms around her brother and hugged him back. “You did? You were right, honey. I couldn’t keep myself away.”
Her words gripped Noah’s chest like a vise. Did it mean she expected to stay? She couldn’t just waltz back into their lives as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t left them for something bigger, something more.
Gracie popped the trunk. “Honey, can you help me with my luggage?”
JJ ran to the back of the car. “There’s only two,” he said, looking into the trunk. “But you’re staying for good, right?”
The vise squeezed tighter, then twisted. What if she said yes? Would she mean it? Or would she one day change her mind again and regret this decision? Resent them?
JJ smiled and laughed and clung to Gracie as if she’d never left. Besides the art show, the only thing that kid talked about since Gracie left was the darkroom he wanted to build for her in the cottage. Somehow, he’d even finagled Noah into buying paint and some room-darkening blinds. Noah had purchased the supplies more out of appeasement than actually believing Gracie would use the room any time soon. And here she was, rallying JJ’s hopes.
Noah pushed open the screen door and forced fresh air through his lungs. “Back so soon?”
Gracie turned toward him, her eyes wide, full of apprehension rather than the cockiness he was used to. “I wanted to…talk to you.”
Noah crossed his arms, not wanting to give an inch until he was sure she wouldn’t take it and stomp on it. “That’s what phones are for.” His tone was harder, more gravelly than he intended. The Gracie he knew could handle it. The Gracie he knew would give it right back to him, fight for what she wanted. Question was: Did she want him? “We didn’t expect you.”
“I should’ve called and told you I was coming.”
He wanted to agree, but the words twisted on the way out. “This will always be your home, Gracie.”
She looked…relieved.
But just because she accepted that didn’t mean she wanted him.
“Gracie! Look!” JJ screeched. “Over there, out in the foothills.” He jumped up and down, pointing beyond their fields. “Socks is back! I’ve been waiting for him, and he’s back. He didn’t get rounded up. I knew it! And look.” JJ ran into the tall weeds in the direction of his wild horse. “He’s with a mare. He’s found a mate.”
Something warmed in Noah’s gut when Gracie laughed. God, it was good to hear her laugh. And Socks coming back was a sign. Had to be. These things didn’t just happen.
Noah walked down the porch steps toward Gracie. She turned and watched him approach, the apprehension in her eyes turning to anticipation. He moved closer, until they were inches apart. She smelled of her familiar cherry and lavender. His two favorite scents.
“Aren’t you supposed to be starting a business in New York?” His voice was tentative, threaded with hope.
“Supposed to? Maybe I took a cue from Socks.” She nodded toward the horse. “He was supposed to stay with the band. That’s what horses do. He didn’t, and maybe it saved him from getting rounded up with the others.” She looked back at the rest of the ranch, her gaze resting on the cottage. “I was thinking about JJ’s darkroom idea. The cottage would be ideal to set up shop, you know, like a business.”
What was she saying?
“But you’d have to move out, of course.”
He didn’t dare hope…or could he?
“I think there’s room in the house.” She bit her bottom lip and waited.
“What about the grant?”
She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I turned it down. I turned it all down. New York isn’t where I belong.”
He was sure his face flashed surprise. Had he heard right? “Won’t you miss it—the crowds, the excitement, working with all those important people?”
She shook her head. “What I’ve missed these past two weeks is all this wide-open space. And there are only two important people who matter. And neither are in New York.”
His chest swelled with hope. She sounded like a woman who’d done some soul-searching and knew what she wanted.
“You drive me nuts, Noah Taylor, and I love you.”
His fingers stroked her cheek. “I never stopped loving you.” He leaned in and gently touched his lips to hers. He didn’t want to pull back. It’d only been two weeks since she’d left, but it’d felt like a lifetime. “Are you staying?” he asked. “For good?” He searched her eyes for the answer. He saw desire; he saw hope.
He saw love. Noah had his answer. “Welcome home, Gracie.”
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