Chapter Fifteen
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Noah asked as he turned into the ranch’s dirt driveway.
“I’m fine.” Her icy tone assured him otherwise.
“JJ, why don’t you check on Hannah and Kiddo,” Noah said as they all got out of the truck. He waited until JJ was out of earshot before turning toward Gracie. He’d probably regret what he was going to say next, but he didn’t understand the burr in her saddle. “That’s the fifth ‘fine’ since we left the lake house.”
She slammed her car door. “Trust me, you don’t want to hear the other words in my head.” His eyes tracked her as she stomped around the car to him.
“Does that mean you didn’t have a good time today? Because I could’ve sworn you did. Every time I went to find you, you were surrounded by Starr and our friends from school.” He crossed his arms. “You looked like you were having a fine time.” Too fine. Right before the onslaught of rain he’d seen Sam hanging all over her, no doubt enjoying the view of that damn green shirt hugging her perfect curves and showing way too much cleavage.
Gracie put her hands on her hips. “And when did you notice that?” She cocked her head to one side and started tapping her foot. “Before or after you were snuggling with Nessie down in the gazebo?” The words were driven by her and Nessie’s old rivalry, Noah knew that. But the hurt filling her tone surprised and encouraged him. It meant he was right—she still cared for him.
It meant this really was their second chance.
“We weren’t snuggling,” he said quietly, dropping his arms to his sides. “Vanessa and I are just friends. Let me explain—”
“You know what? You guys deserve each other.” The foot tapping continued. She wasn’t ready to listen. She was trying to cover the hurt with sarcasm. It wasn’t working. But if she would only listen to him, maybe they could get past the hurt.
“You’re wrong, Gracie.”
“I don’t get what you see in her. But then, there’s a lot of things I don’t understand. Tell me, does Nessie know about your secrets with Destiny Morson?”
“I haven’t told anyone. I mean, I was waiting to talk to you first.”
“Talk to me about what?”
Lots of things. You, me, our past. Our future. He plunged in. “I want JJ to stay here, even if you”—won’t—“can’t.”
“Wha… Why?”
“He deserves a home, a family, a family at home. I spoke with Destiny about options. You and I can share custody. I can give JJ a home and be his family. I can try to be a father-figure to him, or at least a friend.” He sucked in a breath. “I’ll do a better job than yours could for you and mine could for me.”
“What are you talking about, Noah? Your father was a saint, literally as close as you can get. He was a pastor.”
“He was.” He nodded, then stepped toward the car and pushed against it, as if he was holding himself up. “It started off with little things—forgetting where he put the car keys or his sermon notes. By senior year, I was writing his sermons for him.” He shook his head and looked out to the empty fields. “Some days he couldn’t remember why we were doing it.” He turned his face, and his eyes pinned hers. “Some days, he couldn’t even remember my name or Starr’s.”
Her forehead scrunched like she wanted to misunderstand. “Pastor Bob?” The color drained from her face to the point where he thought she was going to faint. “Why didn’t you…” She swallowed. Several times. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You had enough to deal with, with your mom, then with your dad. I was your rock. Your anchor. I didn’t want to be another cross for you to bear.”
She shook her head. “That makes no sense. How did pushing me away help anything?” Her voice was hard, but her eyes were filled with more than fury. They held years of hurt, miles of regret. The very things he’d hoped to shield her from with the choices he’d made.
“Tell me. How?” Her voice, whisper-like, quivered.
He flexed his fingers. Squeezed them into tights fists. “It got you out.”
“Wha…” She shook her head, a myriad of confusion and chaos and sadness flashing across her face, ultimately settling on disbelief. Then anger. “You lied to me?”
“No, I mean, yes.” He shoved his fists into his front jean pockets. “I didn’t think you’d leave without me.” At the time, it’d seemed so obvious a solution. The only solution. Now the words sounded hollow to his ears.
“You’re right.” Gracie crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t have. But you could’ve come to New York with me. We could’ve gotten out together.” Her voice cracked on the last word and, for Noah, broke open a floodgate of regret. Regret for what might have been, for what he’d given up.
But not for what he’d gained. “By the time you were ready to leave, my dad was barely capable of working. I couldn’t leave, Gracie, because I wasn’t just your rock. I was Starr’s rock, too.”
…
Grace stared at him, the pieces slowly falling into place.
“Starr had so much going for her with her skiing,” Noah explained. “And I couldn’t leave her. I wasn’t about to let her down, not again. Not like that day at the creek.”
“That was years ago—and an accident.” And Starr had been fine; scared, but fine.
“Accident, right.” He pushed out a hard, fake laugh.
“But you told me—”
“I lied. I wasn’t with her in the water. I was on the bank, asleep.”
He couldn’t possibly blame himself. “You didn’t do it on purpose, Noah.”
“She was my responsibility that day. And when Dad got sick, she became my responsibility every day. So did Dad.”
Grace’s chest squeezed. “Oh my God, Noah. I had no clue. I…” Had she really been that wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn’t noticed that her best friend, her boyfriend, was in crisis? She put her head in her hands and paced.
Poor Noah, poor Starr. Poor Pastor Bob. What pain they must have gone through, and Grace hadn’t known, hadn’t been there, for any of them. “How bad is he?”
“The stroke made him immobile, but the Alzheimer’s would have progressed regardless. He’s pretty advanced now.” He scratched his fingers through his hair. “He hasn’t known me for two years.”
She knew what that was like. At his lowest point, her father hadn’t recognized her. She stepped toward Noah. A part of her wanted to shake him, demand to know why he hadn’t told her. More of her wanted to wrap her arms around him and comfort him. Still, she held back.
Noah had lied about not loving her—to get her out. He’d broken her heart—to save the rest of her. He’d made those decisions for her. Without her. Anger—at Noah, partly, but mostly at what they’d lost—pushed through her veins, heating every inch of her skin. She fought for her breath and pivoted to face him, holding herself back. “You had no right to choose for both of us.” Her tone was soft, but the words were sharp. Piercing.
“I did what needed to be done, what I thought was best for everyone, including you.”
“You should have told me.”
He held up his hands in front of him, like he was grasping for his reasons, his excuses. None came. He dropped his hands. “I know.” His shoulders slacked. “I want my Gracie back.”
My Gracie back?
Hurt, indignation, and anger battled for control. “It’s not that simple.”
“It can be. Gracie, it’s time to let go of the hurt.”
She scoffed. “Like letting go is so easy. Look at you. You’re still trying to control everything—JJ, me.”
Pain flickered through his eyes. Any other time, it might have been enough to stop her. She charged ahead, her body seething. Her hands clenched into tight fists. “You’ve been trying to manipulate me into staying here. But you can’t just turn back time. Your Gracie is gone.” She stepped toward him. “You can’t make up for the past by saving this place.” She indicated the ranch with her hand.
“And you can’t run from us by dragging him away.”
“I’m not running away. I’m running to. You don’t know me. You haven’t known me for seven years—by choice. You pushed me out. You wanted me to do more, see more.” She waved her hands in the air. “Well, I have. And I like it. I want more than this land, this town.” She held his gaze. “Maybe I want more than you.”
She saw him flinch, a real flinch, and for a moment, she wanted to yank back the words. But she couldn’t, and it was as much his fault as hers. They stared at each other, the seconds tick-tick-ticking, until Grace finally cut through the silence with her whisper. “I can’t save the ranch. I can’t save us. But if you’re serious about JJ, I’ll sign the papers.” It was the best thing for JJ, she knew that. Yet the words came with a chaser of regret rather than relief.
Shock slid across Noah’s eyes, then disappointment. “If that’s what you want, fine.” His face hardened. “You’re right. My Gracie is gone,” he said quietly. Impassively. He got in his truck and backed out of the drive.
JJ’s adoption. Pastor Bob. My Gracie. How could Noah dump all this on her and leave? It wasn’t her fault the girl he used to know was gone. He’d lied to push her away. You bet she was gone, and good riddance. Her stomach roiled more than the dust his truck kicked up as it sped down the dirt road.
Hours later, Noah’s spot in the drive was still empty, and the words My Gracie continued to ring in her ears. Sure, she still had feelings for him. All women had remnants from their first love hanging in their heart. That was all it was. Well, that and some good old-fashioned lust, and who could blame her for that?
Surely he didn’t expect her to just forget the hurt of the past seven years, forget the lies, and run into his arms. No, their time had passed, and the solution for JJ to stay with Noah was best for everyone. Noah and JJ would have each other, and Grace could have her career, maybe not working with Simon forever—certainly not working with Simon forever, but she still wanted to continue the adventure. One day she’d have her own studio, her own clients, make her own name for herself. This was a win-win.
So why did the heaviness of a battle lost weigh on her shoulders, her chest, her heart?
Maybe she could help them more. If she could get Sam to work with them, give them more time or renegotiate payments, maybe Noah and JJ could stay at the ranch. She’d never considered keeping the ranch for the sake of keeping it. Between JJ’s benefits, Grace’s emergency fund, and whatever Noah had, it might work. She needed to talk with Noah. Maybe they could work this out together.
Midnight came and went. So did three a.m. When Grace finally forced herself out of bed the next morning at oh-dark-thirty, Noah’s truck was still missing. Where had he gone—Timmy’s? There was another possibility Grace didn’t even want to think of, one that turned her stomach—no, boiled her blood, that was what it did. He could’ve gone to Nessie’s, and Grace wasn’t about to call there to check.
But so what if he had? In fact, good for him. He should get on with his life, just like she would soon be getting back to hers.
After several cups of coffee, Grace threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and headed out to the barn. There were still morning chores to attend to. She checked on the goats and left JJ fawning over Kiddo while she collected the eggs and fed the chickens. Then she headed back to the house, to the junk room and its piles of boxes from the attic that she needed to finish sorting.
She stopped in the kitchen. Maybe sorting could come later, especially since JJ was going to stay with Noah, and she was going to work with Sam to extend the time. Because her head wasn’t into sorting. For now, she needed to clear her head. She needed to take some photos. She grabbed her camera from the kitchen and headed out to the fields to get a closer look at the horse band.
It all happened so fast. Socks ran toward the pack, neighing. Big Gray reared. Instinctively, Grace raised her camera from around her neck and began clicking. Shot after shot, she captured the grandeur of the fight, as Socks challenged the gray stallion to steal his mares. Teeth bared, the two horses battled for dominance.
It was majestic, nature pitted against itself. It was powerful. Beautiful.
JJ ran up to Grace, tears running down his cheeks, and pushed her toward the horses. “Make them stop, Gracie, make them stop.”
“Honey.” Grace pulled JJ back. “There’s nothing we can do. We’ll get stomped on if we go any closer.”
“But he’s gonna hurt Socks,” he whined.
“No, he’ll be fine. They’re fighting over turf, over a mare. It’s normal, JJ. It’s part of nature.”
“No, he’s—”
Socks reared up on his hind legs and neighed a pitiful howling cry that sounded like pure agony. Then the horse bolted. Straight down the fields paralleling the road, as fast as he could run, as if he was in a panicked craze and chased by fire. He kept running until he was out of sight.
Socks had never been so far from the rest of the band. Grace’s heart pounded faster than Socks’s hooves had run.
“Stop him, Gracie, stop him.” JJ ran down the road after Socks, screaming his name. Grace followed, yelling for JJ to stop, groping for her phone in her jean pocket. Noah. They needed Noah.
Grace’s side cramped out at the same time Noah’s phone rolled to voicemail. She stopped running, leaning over to heave for air. When she looked up, JJ was too far to hear her call and getting farther away.
Grace ran back to the house, her side throbbing. She grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter and flew to her car. She had to catch up to JJ before he decided to get off the dirt road and head up into the hills after that horse. She zoomed her car past Noah’s empty parking spot.
Where the heck was he when they needed him?