Betting on Grace

by Nicole Edwards

  “Shut up. You sound like a two-year-old.”

  Mercy’s smirk was wicked. “You keep staring at him like that and everyone in this room is gonna know just how you feel about him.”

  Grace found it hard to believe that they didn’t know it already. If it weren’t for the fact that they were all working long days, spending too much time working and not enough time having fun, she figured they would have noticed by now.

  And Mercy was right.

  Until Grace figured out just how this was going to play out, she really did need to keep a lid on what was going on with her and Lane and Grant.

  Crap.

  Like anyone was ever going to accept that she was in love with two men. And those two men were in love with her. And each other.

  Holy smokes, it sounded convoluted even to her.

  “Does that work for you, Gracie?”

  Grace jerked her eyes up to meet Hope’s. “Uh … what?”

  “Could you pay attention?” Hope bit out.

  “I would if I weren’t so damned tired,” Grace muttered.

  Grace felt the heat of Lane’s gaze on her, but she refused to look over at him. If she did, her sisters would likely realize just what was going on there, and now was not the time to have them heckling her about her relationships — real or perceived.

  “I need for you to help Lane get the supplies from town.”

  That statement caused Grace to look at Lane. He was looking at her, just as she’d thought, but his expression was bland, not reflecting any of the heat she could see brewing in his eyes. She fought the urge to smile.

  “Okay,” she answered readily.

  She should’ve been paying closer attention. If she had to guess, Lane had suggested that someone help him, and if she knew Mercy the way she thought she did, it’d been Mercy’s suggestion that Grace be his assistant.

  She could handle that.

  “All right. We’re gonna kick this into high gear,” Hope said. “I need everyone to handle their respective jobs. And by God, do not let Dad know what’s goin’ on. I don’t care what you have to do to throw him off, but do not tell him we’re givin’ him a party.”

  A chorus of agreement erupted as all of them took that to be Hope’s closing statement.

  Not wanting to appear too obvious, Grace made a beeline for the front door, not waiting for Lane. She knew he would keep up, which he did, meeting up with her as she headed for the barn.

  “So when do we sneak into town?” he asked, his tone low and seductive.

  Grace spun around, giving the area a cursory glance to ensure there was no one near enough to overhear them.

  “Just tell me the time and place and I’m there,” she answered when she realized the coast was clear.

  With that, Lane smiled down at her, and she allowed the sparkle in his eyes to send her heart into a gallop just as it always did.

  “Have you seen Grant this morning?” he asked, dampening the vibrant glow in her chest as quickly as he’d ignited it.

  “Not in a while, no,” she answered, unable to lie to him wholly.

  Lane’s eyebrow disappeared beneath the shadow from his hat. Grace could practically see his bullshit meter signaling a red alert.

  “Somethin’ happen?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Come on, Gracie,” Lane said softly, closing the gap between them.

  Grace noticed that he started to reach for her hands but thought better of it before he touched her. God, she wanted him to touch her. She wanted him to pull her into his big, strong arms and hold her, assure her that whatever was happening with Grant was going to be okay. That they were going to be okay.

  Crap.

  “Yes. I saw Grant this morning. He was in my father’s office. His dad showed up causin’ a scene.”

  Lane looked as though someone had pulled the rug out from underneath him and then piled a shitload of dirt on his head to boot.

  “What?” Lane turned, his gaze searching the area around the main house.

  Grace looked as well, noticing that the red Ford was no longer parked outside, which, she hoped, was a good sign.

  “He’s not here anymore. Grant’s dad, that is. He drives a red Ford,” she continued, pointing toward the area the man had been parked in earlier. “But it’s gone now.”

  Lane looked back at her, and Gracie felt as though she were three inches tall. Yes, she should’ve told him earlier, but she agreed with Mercy, it would’ve only made matters worse.

  Right?

  Lane nodded his head curtly, his eyes meeting hers once more. And then, for the first time in all the time she’d known him, Lane Miller turned and walked away without saying a word.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hi, Gracie!” Maddie greeted with an impressive yell as soon as Grace came over the small rise that circled the lake.

  Waving back at the little girl, Grace dug deep and forced a smile. She really didn’t have a choice. After all, her personal life wasn’t supposed to get in the way of her work. And for the next couple of hours, she was going to be sitting side by side with a six-year-old, teaching her how to fish. It wouldn’t be fair to Maddie for Grace to be dwelling on the things she couldn’t change.

  “Hey, Gracie,” Ben greeted when Grace made it down to the edge of the lake.

  “Mornin’,” she replied with that smile firmly planted on her lips. Lifting her hand to show him the thermos of coffee, she said, “I brought backup.”

  Ben laughed, his handsome face lighting up as he tipped the foam cup in his hand upside down to show her that it was empty. “I could use some.”

  Pulling the small satchel that she’d brought along with her off her shoulder, Grace allowed it to drop to the soft grass before setting the thermos next to it. “I see y’all picked up fishin’ poles. What about worms?”

  “Worms?” Maddie asked, her face turning a concerning shade of gray.

  “Yeah. What did you think we were gonna use to catch the fish?”

  Maddie shrugged, her eyes darting down to the bag on the ground and then slowly meeting Grace’s again.

  “We’re gonna use worms?” Maddie clarified, her voice softer than before.

  Ben pulled Maddie up against him and tugged on her pigtail as he chuckled. Yeah, it was safe to say that not all six-year-old girls were like Grace had been at that age. Maddie clearly didn’t like the idea of using worms for fishing. Grace, on the other hand, had been fascinated by them since her dad had first showed her how to bait a hook.

  Note to self: don’t make Maddie bait her own hook.

  “I like your shirt,” Grace said, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

  Today the little girl was wearing pink shorts with her pink boots. The white tank top with the word “cowgirl” written across the front looked new. If Grace wasn’t mistaken, they sold that shirt in the general store.

  “Thanks,” Maddie replied, her cheerful smile slowly returning.

  “You know what? How ’bout we let your dad bait the hooks so you don’t have to touch the worms? What do you think about that?”

  Maddie nodded her head vigorously, her eyes continuing to dart down to the bag as though the worms might just slither right on out and up her legs.

  “Okay then. Let’s grab the stuff and move down to the pier.”

  Maddie retrieved a small bag that they must’ve brought along with them, but she stayed as far away from Grace’s bag as possible, which only made Grace want to laugh. Welcome to ranch life, kiddo.

  And just like that, her mood took a turn for the better. There really wasn’t anything she could do to help Grant with his current dilemma. And as for Lane, if he was hurt that she hadn’t mentioned what had happened, then she couldn’t change that, either. There’d be plenty of time later that afternoon for her to talk to them and hopefully work things out.

  But for now, she was ready to fish.

  It took all of ten minutes for them to get set up, the three of
them sitting side by side on the pier, their legs dangling over, inches above the sparkling water. Maddie forgot all about the worms as soon as Grace tossed in a handful of fish food, something to lure a few of the fish their direction. More for Maddie’s benefit than anything else.

  With a foam cup of coffee sitting at her side, her fishing line dangling in the calm water, Grace took a deep breath, letting the sun’s warm rays beat down on her shoulders. She could sit out here all day. There were actually days she had come down to the lake, brought a blanket and a book, and spent a couple of hours listening to the soft lap of the water against the bank.

  Not that she could do that today. She was supposed to be entertaining her guests, and although Maddie looked content staring down at the end of her fishing pole, likely waiting impatiently for a fish to bite, Grace knew the little girl wouldn’t be quiet for long.

  “So, Maddie, what grade are you in?” Grace asked, initiating the conversation.

  “First. My teacher, Mrs. Rose, she’s so nice.”

  “What’s your favorite subject?”

  “Math.”

  “My favorite subject was science,” Grace told Maddie.

  “Not me. I like math. It’s easy.”

  Grace smiled. That was a very valid reason to like math, she guessed.

  “Ben,” Grace glanced over at the man sitting quietly on the other side of Maddie, “if you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?”

  Grace saw Ben swallow hard, his Adam’s apple sliding down and then up slowly. Oops. Maybe that wasn’t something Ben cared to discuss.

  “My daddy’s a lawyer. But he doesn’t like his job,” Maddie answered when Ben didn’t.

  There was obviously a story there, and Grace was certainly interested in hearing it, but only if Ben wanted to share.

  “Thank you, Maddie,” Ben said to his daughter, his shoulders a little more strained than a few moments ago. “She’s right. I’m not enjoying it much anymore.”

  “You don’t like being a lawyer?”

  “I’ve taken a leave of absence,” Ben admitted.

  Yep. Definitely a story. Grace wondered whether it had to do with Maddie’s mother. His reaction to Maddie’s comment yesterday about her hadn’t been a happy response.

  “Maddie’s mother just married one of the partners in my firm.”

  Oh.

  Ooooohhhhh.

  Grace focused intently on her fishing pole, hating that she’d brought up such a sore subject but not sure how she was supposed to get out of it.

  “I’m thinking about moving,” Ben admitted.

  “We should move here, Daddy,” Maddie said, half-heartedly contributing to the conversation while she swung her legs back and forth and bounced her fishing pole on her knee.

  While Grace was staring down at the water, she was pretty sure she heard Ben agree with his daughter. And wasn’t that interesting.

  “How many sisters do you have?”

  Sweet, sweet Maddie. The little girl probably had no idea that she had just saved the day by changing the subject.

  “Four.”

  “What are their names?”

  “Hope, Trinity, Mercy, and Faith.”

  “Those are fun names,” Maddie said, grinning up at Grace.

  “Thanks. My mother picked out our names.”

  “Where’s your mom at?”

  Another sharp pain of loss ricocheted through her chest. Grace would’ve thought that all these years later, it would be easier to talk about her mother. But it wasn’t. Every time she thought of her, which was quite often, her heart would ache as if someone had hit her with a cattle prod. Taking a deep breath, she said, “My mother died when I was twelve.”

  “My mom doesn’t want to come see me anymore,” Maddie admitted, jerking Grace’s attention from the memories of her mother right to the present. “She got married to Mr. Jeff, and I don’t like him.”

  Well, hell. Grace hadn’t wanted the conversation to veer back this way, but she didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t that great when it came to children, although she enjoyed being around them.

  “Why do you think Mom doesn’t want to see you?” Ben asked, sounding confused by Maddie’s statement.

  “She said she wants to go on airplanes, and she can’t do that with me.”

  Grace met Ben’s wounded gaze over Maddie’s head. She quietly mouthed, “I’m sorry.” Not that it was going to do any good whatsoever.

  “How old are your sisters?” Maddie asked suddenly, still kicking her feet. The girl was a bundle of energy, not to mention a conversational disaster. Well, in this case, she was pretty ingenious. At least they weren’t lingering on one uncomfortable subject for too long.

  “Faith is the youngest. She’s twenty-five. Then Mercy, who’s twenty-six. Trinity is twenty-seven. I’m twenty-eight. And my older sister, Hope, is thirty-two.”

  “My daddy’s thirty-six.”

  “Thanks, Maddie,” Ben said, this time with a snort.

  “My daddy thinks Hope is pretty.”

  Ben laughed; this time the sound was strangled, which made Grace grin widely.

  “Is that right?” Grace asked, encouraging the little girl while she cocked an eyebrow at Ben. The man had the decency to blush and shrug his shoulders.

  “Yep. He said so last night. I think she’s pretty, too,” Maddie added. “But not as pretty as you are.”

  Okay, so now it was Grace’s turn to blush. “Thank you.”

  “When do we get to ride the horses again?”

  And just like that, the personal conversation died, much to Grace’s relief.

  She was pretty sure Ben felt the same way.

  ■□■□■□■□

  “Where’s Grant?” Lane asked as he stormed through the barn that Cody used as his mechanic shop.

  “Haven’t seen him,” Cody bit back. “And good fuckin’ mornin’ to you, too.”

  Lane wasn’t in the mood to start shit with Cody, so he turned on his heel and headed the opposite direction, nearly running right into Mercy. “Don’t have time,” he growled at her as he walked right on by.

  “Hey, cowboy, slow down!” Mercy yelled, her voice sounding from behind him.

  Lane didn’t have time to stop and chat. He needed to find Grant. Needed to hear from him just what the hell was going on.

  When Gracie had spilled that Grant’s father had showed up at the ranch, Lane had been worried. He’d been hurt more than anything that she’d keep something so important from him, which had led to him turning his back and walking away from her. It was that or say something he would likely regret later.

  But now he just wanted to see Grant. To let the man know he was there for him if he needed him.

  The one thing about Grant that Lane knew for a fact … the guy was a loaded gun.

  Grant might not admit it, but his calm, cool demeanor was usually a mask for intense emotion bubbling just beneath the surface. Which was exactly what Lane was worried about.

  Great, and now you’re Dr. Phil, huh?

  Shaking off the annoying voice in his head, Lane kept putting one foot in front of the other as he tried to figure out just where Grant might be hiding. He’d already checked Grant’s house, and the man wasn’t there.

  Lane hadn’t made it far when he felt a sharp tug on his arm. The momentum had him spinning around and coming face to face with… “Shit. I said I didn’t have time, Mercy.”

  “Relax, cowboy,” Mercy snapped. “Grant’s not here.”

  “What do you mean he’s not here?”

  Mercy cocked her head to the side, offering Lane that look. The one that said, “Are you really that stupid?”

  “Fine. I’ll rephrase. Where did he go?”

  “He said he had an errand to run.”

  Shit.

  “When did he leave?” Lane asked.

  “From what Zach told me, about an hour ago.”

  An errand to run at — Lane glanced down at his cheap watch — ten o’clock in the mornin
g?

  “Come on. Let’s get coffee.”

  “I don’t want coffee,” Lane argued. He didn’t want coffee. He wanted to find Grant. He needed to talk to him. Despite the look on Mercy’s face, Lane really wasn’t stupid. If Grant had had a run-in with his father that morning, the likelihood that he’d followed the man was great. And if that were the case, then the two of them were probably throwing down on the side of the road.

  Grant was the type of guy to keep everything bottled up. And by everything, Lane meant every-damn-thing. Every ounce of Grant’s emotions was kept safeguarded under lock and key. His anger, his frustration, his happiness … his love. All of it. Lane figured it had something to do with the way the guy was raised.

  PhD in psychology now, huh?

  “I said we’re gonna get coffee,” Mercy demanded, pulling on Lane’s arm until he had no choice but to follow her or jerk away. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt her, and considering how much smaller she was than him, the likelihood of that happening was rather great.

  “What’s all the excitement about?” Cody asked, emerging from the shade of the mechanic shop.

  Damn, dude, put a shirt on.

  Lane had obviously been too lost in his own thoughts to notice that Cody wasn’t wearing a shirt, and from the looks of it, Mercy was now well aware of that fact, too.

  “Nothin’. Don’t mind us,” Mercy mumbled loud enough for Cody to hear.

  “I’ve got coffee in here,” Cody offered.

  Lane watched Mercy’s shoulders tense, and he figured if she was going to get him to go anywhere, then he was going to make her pay for it.

  “We’re comin’,” Lane offered Cody.

  “Damn stupid men,” Mercy grumbled beneath her breath.

  Lane laughed.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Miller. You think you’re funny. I promise you won’t like what I have in store for you.”

  “Do your worst,” Lane countered. “But before you do that, tell me where Grant went.”

  The two of them walked side by side toward the huge metal structure where Cody spent most of his days.

  “No idea,” Mercy replied. “Swear to God. Zach didn’t say. Just that Grant hauled ass outta here a while ago. After the confrontation with that crazy bastard this mornin’, I can’t say that I blame him. I’d be puttin’ the hurtin’ on that man if he were related to me.”