by Sharon Sala
And neither had Joel. She dropped back at his side and pushed the folded-up towel back on his wound.
"I'm back. He's still bleeding!" Mamie screamed.
"What about your assailant?" the dispatcher asked.
Mamie moaned. "He hasn't moved. I'm afraid he's going to wake up!"
"Stay with me. Just stay with me," the dispatcher kept saying. "Help is almost there."
Then Mamie heard sirens. They were coming closer—getting louder—and then they were in the drive. Suddenly, people were in her house, and she was screaming... "In here! In here!"
Police were first on the scene, followed moments later by paramedics, who immediately moved Mamie aside and began examining Joel, then stabilizing him for transport.
Mamie stood against the wall, covered in blood, shaking so hard she couldn't catch her breath as she stared at all of the policemen in their kitchen.
One officer came in, eyed the masked man on the floor, then a knife and the iron skillet beside him.
"Where did the skillet come from?" he asked.
"I hit him with it," Mamie said.
His eyes widened. "You took him out with a skillet?"
Mamie nodded, still shaking.
A paramedic glanced up. "Are you injured anywhere, ma'am?"
"No. It's my husband's blood." And then her legs slid out from under her. "I'm going to fall down now."
The officer caught her before she hit the floor and got her to a chair. Within moments, there were neighbors coming into the house, yelling Mamie's name.
Chapter Fourteen
Gracie was still riding the high from her day, and when she got home and saw Lucy out on the back verandah, instead of going straight up to her apartment, she parked and walked across the driveway. They'd visited only briefly since she’d moved in, and usually when Gracie was coming or going—often then, just a smile and a wave. But Gracie liked her.
Lucy saw her coming and waved her up.
"Come join me!" she called.
Gracie strode across the grass to the garden path, and then up the steps.
"Sit with me, sugar. I'm having iced tea. Can I pour you some?" Lucy asked.
"Yes, please," Gracie said, and took the empty wicker chair and the tea Lucy offered. Gracie took a quick sip, and then another. "Mmm, so good."
"I always have Muriel squeeze fresh lime in my tea. Adds a little zip, and when you get my age, you need all the zip you can get."
Gracie shook her head. "You're not old. You're timeless."
Lucy sighed. "Thank you for that. So, tell me how your day has gone? Still job hunting?"
"Not anymore," Gracie said. "I took a job at Majestic Floral Design today. I start tomorrow."
Lucy beamed. "How wonderful! I love that place."
"I did a lot of that kind of work when I was in college. It's exciting to be able to go back to it."
Lucy eyed Gracie thoughtfully. "Donna Franklin has a good reputation and a huge business. She must have been impressed with you."
"She asked me to fill a couple of work orders so she could see my work, and she liked it."
Lucy clapped her hands. "Such good news."
"I had to fill out paperwork after she hired me. She recognized my address. I told her I'd recently moved into your garage apartment, and she said to tell you, hello."
Lucy smiled. "One can never have too many good friends."
"That's what they say," Gracie said, and then looked out across the grounds. "Your place is so pretty. I watch the birds in your water fountain almost every morning. There are so many in the water, or waiting to get in the water, that it makes me laugh. I don't know how they figure out who's coming and who's going, but they seemed to have a rhythm to it—like orchestrated confusion."
Lucy nodded. "They're my favorite things in the garden—them and the hummingbirds. I get a lot of songbirds at the feeders, but they have to fight the squirrels for the seed. No matter what I do, those little beggars get into them."
"I guess you'll have to put out squirrel feeders, too," Gracie said.
Lucy frowned. "Now why didn't I think of that? They're constant pests, but I love to watch them. Now I have a new project. Researching the best squirrel feeders and then getting them put up."
"Oh, I can put them up for you," Gracie said. "I'm pretty good with tools."
"Really?"
Gracie nodded. "Daddy died when us kids were all still at home. We learned to do a lot of things after that to pick up the slack."
"What happened?" Lucy asked.
"He had a wreck. Flipped his truck about a mile from home. No one ever knew why it happened." She blinked and then looked away.
"You said kids...you have siblings, then."
"I have a brother and two sisters, but they are not part of my life."
"I'm sorry," Lucy said. "I didn't mean to bring up—"
Gracie shook her head quickly. "Oh...it's okay. They removed themselves from my life when Mama lost herself. Her confusion made them uncomfortable. They were crushed when she didn't remember who they were. They couldn't bear to see her that way, so they never came back."
Lucy's mouth was open, but for the life of her, she was so shocked, she didn't quite know what to say.
"What did you do when she got that way?" Lucy asked.
Gracie shrugged. "I took care of her."
"For how long?" Lucy asked.
"I was there nine years. They quit coming after the second year."
Lucy's heart broke. She knew what that disease looked like. She knew the toll it took on caregivers, too.
"I'm so sorry," Lucy said.
Gracie set her tea down. "You don't need to apologize on their behalf. They abandoned us. In every way. They no longer exist in my world, and that's okay. It's actually a relief not to hold that anger anymore. Thank you so much for the tea. It really hit the spot. And thank you for your kindness. I guess I better get about my business. I still have some phone calls to make before it gets any later, and I have a dinner date tonight."
"Ooh! May I be so nosy as to ask who with?"
"John Gatlin. He mows your—"
"Girl, I know who he is. He's a good friend, and a good man. I didn't know you two had met."
"On my first day in Branson," Gracie said.
"Small world," Lucy said. "Before you go, I want to send something with you. I made blueberry muffins today," she said, and took off into the house on the run.
Blueberry muffins sounded amazing. And Gracie had nowhere else to be. A couple of minutes later, Lucy was back carrying a pretty little gift bag and a small jar of jelly.
"I like jelly on my muffins," Lucy said, and handed them over.
"This is homemade jelly!" Gracie said.
"Yes...strawberry. I get it from Silver Dollar City. Their craft stores are amazing."
"Thank you," Gracie said. "Such an unexpected treat."
"Any time," Lucy said, then watched until Gracie went into the garage, closing the door behind her. "Bless her heart," Lucy muttered. "Just bless her heart."
Cool air wrapped around Gracie like a hug as she entered the kitchen and set her gifts on the counter. Of all the welcome changes in her life, having a cool place to come home to was best. She danced herself down the hall doing a two-step, and then dropped her purse on the bed and kicked off her shoes.
"I, Gracie, am now a productive member of society!" she announced, flopped down on the bed, and got her phone to send Darlene a text.
I have a job at Majestic Floral Design, and I'm going to dinner tonight with John.
Within moments, she got a reply.
Yay for you, and who the hell is John?
Gracie laughed.
A nice guy who owns his own landscape business. That is all.
She hit Send, and then got up to change into shorts and a t-shirt. She was full of pent-up energy from the excitement of her success, so she got the lemon oil and a dust rag and began going through the apartment, wiping down the woodwork. Next, she to
ok a dust mop to the hardwood floors.
When she was through, she ate half a blueberry muffin because they smelled too good to wait for breakfast. As she was eating, she thought about dinner tonight with John and shivered. The unknown was unnerving, but she felt happy—really happy—for the first time in a very long time.
John got the crews in early and locked up the office as soon as his men drove away. Satisfied, he headed home to shower and change. He wanted tonight to be special for Gracie because she was so special to him.
Traffic was frustrating, and by the time he got home, he drove fast enough down the drive to his house that it sent the little rabbit into a race to get beneath the deck.
"Sorry, little guy," John said, as he slid to a stop, then got out on the run.
He stripped, leaving his dirty clothes in the floor of the utility room, and took off upstairs. One quick shower and a change of clothes later, he was back out the door. He got in the car, then glanced in the rearview mirror, combed his fingers through his still damp hair, backed up and drove away.
Gracie was dressed and impatiently waiting. She hadn't seen John Gatlin since the day he'd given her back the angel she'd lost, and she was wondering if the image she had of him in her mind was real or exaggerated. What she remembered was dark hair, high cheekbones in a very handsome face, and eyes that flashed when he smiled.
She also knew that if this was going anywhere, then she wasn't hiding one thing about herself, including the scars. She didn't dress to exhibit them, but she also didn't choose clothes to conceal them.
The black slacks and sandals she had on were comfortable, and the turquoise-colored blouse she'd picked to wear with them had three-quarter length sleeves with a scoop neckline. She knew her scars were going to show, but it was now or never. If he was going to bolt, she wanted it to happen before it mattered.
She kept glancing at the time, and then getting up to go to the window, but when she finally saw a big SUV pulling up at her apartment, she almost panicked. Then he got out, and the wide set of his shoulders and his easy stride as he jogged toward the outer stairs made her heart skip a beat. She hadn't embellished any of her memory of John Gatlin. He was all that she'd remembered and more.
She stepped back so he wouldn't catch her watching, then hurried to the door to wait for his knock. When it came, she had to make herself wait just a little—just long enough to hide the fact that she wasn't standing there with her hand on the knob. Then she took a deep breath and opened the door.
The look on his face did not disappoint.
"Gracie...you look beautiful," he said.
"And you're looking fine for a guy your age," she said.
John blinked. "Uh..." And then the grin on her face gave her away, and he laughed. "You got me. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes," she said, and grabbed her purse from the little table beside the door and then turned to set the security alarm as she stepped out onto the landing, forgetting at that moment about the scars.
But it was a moment John would never forget. He didn't know what the hell had happened to her, but it didn't matter. Hopefully, one day soon, she would tell him when it mattered to her.
By the time she turned around, he was already talking as if he'd noticed nothing.
"The stairs are too narrow to go down together, So I'm going down first, and you follow. That way, I can catch you if you fall."
He gave her hand a quick squeeze then turned around and started back down, leaving Gracie to follow with his words still echoing in her heart.
Catch you if you fall.
The stuff heroes are made of, she thought, and followed him down, measuring the width of his shoulders, eyeing the way his hair grew in a swirl at the crown of his head.
She was already falling for him.
He waited for her at the bottom of the stairs with a ready smile and his hand out. She wasn't unsteady on her feet, but it was a good excuse to touch him.
Lucy was out on the veranda at the back of her house, having a glass of wine and watching the birds. She'd seen John drive up, and she'd watched them coming down together. There was something brewing between them. Witnessing love bloom was a gift, even if it was happening to someone else.
Then John saw her and waved.
She waved back. "Have a good time. Do something fun for me!" she said.
John gave her a thumbs up, and then they were in the car and driving away.
"We're going to the Saltgrass Steak House here in Branson. It's one of my favorite places, and since you're starting your new job tomorrow, I didn't want to keep you out late.... this time."
"I like a man who's always looking toward the future," she said.
He smiled. Gracie had wit and wasn't afraid to use it.
It was the dinner hour in Branson. Traffic was heavy, so he focused all his attention on driving.
By the time they reached the steakhouse on Branson Landing, they'd talked about everything except family. He'd keyed in quickly that was a topic she didn't intend to address.
Gracie was having such a good time, that she didn't realize she'd telegraphed her tension about it. John was fun and funny, and she had lost her nervousness about the evening.
As they were waiting to be seated, Gracie soon noted that John had a large circle of acquaintances. Some, she learned, were customers, while others were just people he knew from years of living here. And every time someone he knew saw him, he introduced her.
"This is my friend, Gracie Dunham."
The words echoed in her heart by the time they were seated. She tossed her hair back as she sat and picked up the menu. As she did, she caught the last few words from a woman seated at the table behind them.
"...all those hideous scars."
She glanced up. John was glaring at the people behind her. She laid her hand on his arm and then laughed.
"There's no accounting for ignorance. Some people were raised by wolves. Ignore them. I do."
John saw the reaction on the woman's face and realized she'd heard everything Gracie said, including being laughed at.
He took a deep breath.
"Yes, ma'am. Now...how do you feel about appetizers?"
"I feel kindly toward appetizers," Gracie said.
He chuckled. "As do I."
Gracie smiled. "You choose, please. I like surprises and remember I'm from Texas. Hot and spicy are my friends."
"Then Range Rattlers, it is," John said, and gave the waiter their drink and appetizer orders.
After that, the awkward comment from a stranger had lost all power.
When the stuffed jalapeño appetizers came, Gracie took a big bite, then rolled her eyes in delight as she chewed and swallowed.
"Houston...we have lift-off," she said.
John was in delight, moving slowly toward love, and he knew it. But he also knew this intriguing woman had secrets, and she’d been hurt in ways he could not fathom. He didn't yet know the way to her heart, but he was willing to take all the paths he needed to get there.
And so the evening went. After the appetizers, came salads, then steaks grilled to perfection, and baked potatoes dripping with butter. And laughter. So much laughter.
Gracie Dunham had her mother's drawl and dry wit, and John was the best thing that had happened to her in so long she didn't even know how to say thank you to the Universe without crying. So, laughter buoyed her when she faltered, and the look in John's eyes steadied whatever fears she had of being too happy, too fast.
It was nearing 9:00 when they left the steakhouse arm in arm. John seated her in his SUV, and then got in and reached for her hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it.
"Cinderella, I do not want this night to end."
She sighed. "It's been the best time I've had in so many years. You are such fun to be with."
"For my age?" he asked.
She sighed. "I was just teasing you. I'm the one who's been on the shelf."
"Any time you want to talk about that, I will be a compassiona
te witness," he said, then started the car and headed back to her apartment.
Her silence worried him. If he had offended her, it was going to bother him all night.
When they reached her apartment, he got out and walked her up the stairs. She had the door open and was turning around when he reached for her hand.
"If I overstepped a boundary, I'm sorry. It's just that I really like you, Gracie, and what hurts you, hurts me."
She sighed. "Come inside with me for a few minutes," she said, and then took him by the hand and led him to the sofa.
"I didn't answer you because my life is full of secrets I don't want to talk about, but the last nine years of my life have been hard. And pity is the last thing I want or need."
"You do not evoke pity. All I see when I look at you is a quiet warrior. Am I wrong?"
Words caught in the back of Gracie's throat. His intuition had caught her unaware. She took a breath, then shook her head.
"No, you're not wrong."
"When we first met, I asked you if you were okay, and you said, 'not yet, but I will be.' Are you there yet?"
"I'm getting there," Gracie said.
He reached for her hand. "Holding onto pain just makes it worse."
Gracie shuddered. "I know."
"So, let it go. I won't betray your confidence if that's what you’re worried about."
"I wasn't trying to keep secrets about my life. I just didn't want to turn you off before you—"
"Well, that's unlikely, since I carried that angel you lost for days in the hopes that I'd see you again," John said. "And by admitting that, I've just bared myself to instant rejection."
"Then know that isn't going to happen. You cared enough to hang onto it and to look for me to give it back. That means everything to me. My mother gave it to me when I went away to college. I would have been devastated to lose it."
"Understood," John said. "So, you're still grieving her loss. It's understandable to—"
"No. I'm not. Not like you mean," Gracie said. "I lost my mother years before she died. Her death released the both of us."
