Betting on Grace

by Nicole Edwards

  Grant glared at Lane as though that thought might’ve occurred to him.

  “Okay, say you go to your parents’ again. Where’ll you go if they aren’t there?” Gracie asked, sounding just as befuddled as Lane felt.

  “I don’t have a fuckin’ clue,” Grant barked, dropping the bag onto the floor and staring back and forth between them both.

  Yep, Grant was about to lose it.

  Rather than pelt him with more questions, Lane did what felt right. He took two steps forward and pulled Grant into his arms, holding him tightly. To Lane’s utter surprise, Grant wrapped his arms around him, buried his head in his neck, and squeezed tightly, his body shaking. Lane didn’t think Grant was crying, but from the force of his shudders, he wasn’t sure that wasn’t going to be the next phase of this breakdown.

  “I don’t know where to look,” Grant said, the words muffled against Lane’s neck.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Lane saw Gracie move up beside them. Looking down at her, he noticed the tears brimming her eyes. He knew how she felt. In all the time that he’d known Grant, never had he seen him like this.

  This was a man who was always strong, always in charge. Nothing ever seemed to faze him and not in the blow-it-off-and-laugh-about-it way that Lane had perfected over the years.

  No, Grant was the type of person who processed all of the information he received until he had a plan in place. That clearly wasn’t the case right now, and Lane figured that was solely because this was Grant’s mother they were talking about.

  “We’re gonna help you,” Lane assured Grant. “But first, we need a plan. And in order to get there, we need to know what we’re dealin’ with.”

  Grant nodded, his face still pressed against Lane’s neck, his warm breath tickling Lane’s skin. Lane was reluctant to let him go, but when Grant drew back, he released him, letting his hand slide down Grant’s arm slowly.

  “Have you talked to your dad since yesterday?” Gracie asked, perched on the arm of the sofa as she stared back at them. Thankfully, it appeared she’d gotten herself under control. If Lane had to guess, she probably didn’t want Grant to know she was on the verge of tears.

  “Not since your father talked to him,” Grant replied, sounding somewhat more pulled together than just a moment ago. “I didn’t get a chance to follow up with Jerry to see what they talked about, but I haven’t heard from my dad at all since then. I’ve tried callin’ numerous times.”

  “So you think your mom’s been gone since last weekend?” Gracie asked.

  “My dad never clarified when she left, just that she was gone. The way he said it, I assumed it was recently, but he also didn’t seem worried. My sister texted me this mornin’ lookin’ for her, but I haven’t been able to actually talk to her, either.”

  “Maybe your mom’s on her way to see Morgan,” Gracie said. “Didn’t you say your sister moved to Kansas last year?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think your mom would’ve gone to visit her? Your sister has kids, right?” Gracie inquired.

  “Yes, two. And no, I doubt my mother would’ve gone to Kansas. Not by herself. Morgan texted me, askin’ me if I’d heard from Mom, so I think it’s safe to say she’s not there.”

  “They aren’t close?” Lane asked.

  “No one in my family is close,” Grant ground out.

  “Don’t get defensive here,” Lane said, “we’re just tryin’ to figure out which direction to go.”

  Grant nodded, but he didn’t look very convinced.

  “So your plan is to go to your parents’, see if she’s there?”

  “That’s where I was gonna start, yes,” Grant confirmed, answering Gracie’s question.

  “I think we need to start by talkin’ to Jerry,” Lane interjected. “You said it yourself, you don’t know what he and your dad talked about, and you haven’t heard from your dad since then. I think we need to see if Jerry knows somethin’ we don’t.”

  Lane waited patiently while Grant pondered over the suggestion. He kind of expected Grant to jump the gun anyway and run over to his parents’ just because he could, so he was rather surprised when Grant nodded in agreement.

  “Thank you. Both of you. I’m not sure what I’d do right now if y’all weren’t here,” Grant said softly, sadly.

  Lane didn’t say anything — he didn’t need to. Grant had made a huge step in reaching out to them both, especially for a man who had yet to admit his feelings. Lane longed to hear the words out of Grant’s mouth, but to be honest, this was the next best thing.

  And for now, he’d take it.

  ■□■□■□■□

  Grace was damned proud of herself for keeping it together for the last half hour.

  First, she’d received an abrupt text from Grant that had sounded much like a Dear John letter, which was why she’d practically run from the stables to his cabin without stopping.

  Her heart had been in her throat when she’d barged through his front door, and seeing Grant so distraught, she’d been a second away from crumbling into a puddle on the floor.

  When Grant had mentioned his mother, so many memories had come rushing back. Back to when she was twelve years old and her own mother had died.

  As far as Grace knew, her mother had been healthy, yet one minute, she had been there, cooking in the kitchen while Grace, Mercy, and Hope helped her prepare the midday meal for the trail riders, and the next minute, Charlotte had been on the floor, clutching her chest and asking them to call 911.

  Grace remembered that day so vividly. Her father had actually been out on that trail ride with Faith and Trinity. Her parents had tended to split her and her sisters up to make it easier on them during the day, and that week, Grace had been assigned to helping in the kitchen. Not that she had minded at all. Spending time with her mother had been what she’d looked forward to, even more than she’d looked forward to learning to barrel race.

  Without a doubt, that had been the absolute worst day of Grace’s life. Hope had stepped in, thank God, handling everything as if she were decades older than just sixteen at the time. She had dialed 911, directed the operator on where they were, and then gone out front to flag down the ambulance that was coming from the neighboring town.

  Grace remembered how pale her mother had been at that point, lying on the floor, Mercy crying while she gripped their mother’s hand tightly. Grace hadn’t held it together that day. At first, she’d been too scared to cry, but once the ambulance had arrived and the men had come in, she had broken down completely.

  Once again, Hope had stepped in, taking care of them while managing to get one of the wranglers to go out on the trails to find her father.

  By the time Jerry had made it back to the house, Charlotte had been whisked away to the hospital, and he hadn’t been that far behind. Grace and her sisters had remained at the house with several of the staff as they’d waited for the news that their mother was going to be okay.

  That news had never come. Charlotte had died from a heart attack. And none of them had ever been the same. They had comforted one another through the devastating weeks that had followed. Jerry had been stoic through it all, his head up, his eyes dry, but Grace had known he cried at night. She had heard him.

  So when Grace had walked in to find Grant nearly in tears after his revelation, she had barely managed to keep herself together.

  But she had.

  And now they were stepping into Jerry’s office, hoping for him to enlighten them on what had happened between him and Darrell earlier in the week. Grace wished it would be that simple.

  “What’s wrong?” Jerry asked, getting to his feet as the three of them stepped into the room, closing the door behind them.

  “Plenty,” Grant mumbled, but thankfully, Lane stepped forward to handle the situation.

  “Mr. Lambert,” Lane began, “if possible, we’d like to know what you and Grant’s father talked about yesterday. It looks like Grant’s mother is missin’, and we’re tryin�
� to backtrack to see if Darrell might’ve mentioned somethin’.”

  Grace watched her father, noticed the concern in his eyes as he stared back at the three of them. She had to wonder what was going through his head.

  “We talked,” Jerry began, “for a long time. It took a while for your father to calm down, but he finally did.” Jerry was staring back at Grant, his eyes kind, his voice soft. “I know your dad has a gamblin’ problem, Grant. Not everything on this ranch is a secret. I’d heard the rumors, so I chose to address your father directly. He admitted his problem. Surprisingly. But he didn’t seem interested in gettin’ help. That’s when things went south and he left.”

  “So you didn’t give him money?” Grant asked. The relief in his voice had Grace turning to look at him.

  “No, son, I didn’t. I wouldn’t’ve done that without talkin’ to you first. If I really thought your father needed money and you weren’t givin’ it because you didn’t have it, I would’ve come to you. It was clear your father was panicking. From what I gathered, he’s graspin’ at straws, desperate to make some money, and he’s convinced that bettin’ on the races is gonna get him where he needs to be.”

  “Where he needs to be is in rehab,” Grant said sadly.

  “I agree. I even mentioned it,” Jerry concurred. “Unfortunately, he disagreed. I’m sorry, but he didn’t mention your mother.”

  Shit.

  That wasn’t very helpful. Grace kept her eyes locked on Grant’s chiseled face, and she saw the moment his hope vanished.

  And hers seemed to go right along with it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Grant would admit that he’d probably never been as scared as he was right then. So maybe he didn’t have the greatest relationship with his parents, or even with his sister, for that matter, but not knowing where his mother was, or whether or not she was safe, was killing him.

  He had fought the urge to break down like a fucking sissy the moment Lane had walked through his front door earlier. Grant’s indifferent attitude hadn’t lasted long, because he had given in, letting Lane wrap his strong, secure arms around him. It had felt almost too good to let go. Having him and Gracie to lean on was the only thing keeping him together.

  That and having them there to make sure he tackled this from the right angle. Even if he really didn’t know what that might be at this point, he sort of figured out that jumping in his truck probably wasn’t the best plan. Then again, the news Jerry had just shared didn’t tell Grant much of anything, and heading off down the road was looking like his only option.

  Well, except for the fact that his father had probably headed to his old haunts, desperate to make some money, and Grant didn’t even know where those were.

  As he stared back at Jerry, desperately trying to process what this meant and what the next step was supposed to be, Grant fought the urge to yell out his frustration.

  Weren’t the parents supposed to be the more mature ones? Shouldn’t his mom and dad be wondering about him and his sister, checking on them from time to time to make sure they were okay? Not the other way around?

  Unable to answer those questions, and knowing that no one else in the room had any idea what was actually running through his head, Grant accepted the fact that Lane and Gracie had been right. Running off to his parents’ house wouldn’t have done much good. No, it would’ve been a complete waste of time. He doubted his father was there. It was clear his mother wasn’t. She wasn’t at Morgan’s, either. And for the life of him, Grant had no idea where she might’ve gone.

  “Do you have any suggestions on what we do from here?” Gracie asked her father, moving to stand beside Grant and resting her small hand on his arm.

  Without thinking, Grant pulled her against him, desperate to feel her heartbeat, to lean on her at a time when it felt as though the floor was about to drop out from under him.

  The second he did, Grant met Jerry’s sobering gaze from across the room, and fear unlike anything he’d ever known set in. It overwhelmed his own worry for his mother because Jerry Lambert looked as though someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and unlike Grant, the floor wasn’t even there to catch him.

  To Grant’s surprise, Gracie put her arm around his waist, squeezing him gently. It was as though she was trying to reassure him that what he’d just done wasn’t going to land him on the unemployment line.

  To make matters worse, Jerry didn’t say anything. He looked from Grant to Gracie and then back, all while Grant held his breath, unsure what to do. It wasn’t as if he could just push Gracie away, pretend that the damage hadn’t already been done.

  “Does she have a cell phone?” When Jerry finally did speak, the short sentence sounded foreign to Grant, stunning him for a moment as he tried to remember what it was they’d been talking about.

  When the question finally registered, Grant said, “Yes. When I try, it goes right to her voice mail.”

  “What if you call the service provider and see if they have GPS on the phone. Maybe they can locate her that way,” Jerry offered helpfully.

  Grant glanced at Lane briefly, noticing that his eyes were wide as he stared at Grant and Gracie, looking almost as perplexed as Jerry had.

  Yeah, buddy, I know. I just royally fucked up.

  “That’s a great idea,” Gracie said, leaning back just a little and looking up at him, still not letting him go.

  Grant was terrified to look down at her, scared of what he might see in her eyes. Did she realize what they’d just done? They might as well have had a sign that said, “Look Jer, I’m screwin’ your daughter. What do you think about that?”

  “Thank you, sir. We’ll try that first. Come on,” Lane said as he passed by, his arm brushing Grant’s in the small space. “Let’s go see what we can get out of the cell company. At least it’s a start.”

  Grant looked back at Jerry one last time, but he was taken aback to see that Jerry wasn’t trying to kill him with his death ray eyes. No, what he saw looked a little like acceptance.

  Acceptance? Surely not. Maybe that was pity. Or maybe Jerry was just thinking of all the forms that would have to be filled out when he fired Grant later.

  It couldn’t be that Jerry might possibly accept the fact that Grant loved Gracie.

  How could that be? Wasn’t this the guy who’d tossed Garrett Daniels out for wanting to date Trinity? Wasn’t this the guy who continued to reiterate that he did not want anyone dating his daughters?

  Grant fucking hated that they had to hide, but he thoroughly understood. Talking to Faith the other day hadn’t helped Grant’s desire to come out about his relationship with Lane and Gracie, and at this point, the last thing he needed was to get on Jerry’s bad side.

  Too late for that, dumbass.

  Before Grant could contemplate the answer to the millions of questions running through his head, Lane moved to the door. Grant released Gracie when they stepped out onto the porch behind Lane, although he would’ve preferred to keep her close.

  After all, the damage had already been done.

  ■□■□■□■□

  When the door closed behind Grant, Gracie, and Lane, Jerry had the urge to rub his eyes.

  Had he been seeing things? Or had he been right all along? Was his little Gracie there to comfort Grant in his time of need, or was there something more going on there?

  Jerry had never once considered himself an idiot, or even slightly obtuse, for that matter, but … it sure looked like he’d been right. There was something going on between those two.

  A small smile formed on his face.

  Yep, he’d been right. This little display was what had kicked the suspicion right into the fact category.

  Grant and Gracie.

  He couldn’t say he was disappointed with the idea of his head foreman and his strong-willed daughter falling in love. He actually liked it.

  But what about Lane?

  There was something strange going on here, past the whole possibility of Gran
t and Gracie dating, because if he wasn’t crazy — which he seriously doubted he was — there was something going on between Grant and Lane. Today wasn’t the first time he’d thought that the two of them might actually be a little more than friends, although he had to give them credit, they were relatively good at hiding it.

  And no, Jerry didn’t have anything against two men wanting to be together. His own personal preferences for the opposite sex were just that. His preferences. To each his own, that’s how the saying went. And more power to Grant and Lane if they wanted to be together. Jerry’s take was that as long as you loved someone, love them. With all that you are and all that you have.

  He’d learned that with Charlotte.

  Jerry had fallen in love with her before she had turned eighteen, and her daddy was one of the meanest sons of bitches Jerry had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

  Funny, Jerry still talked to the man, even all these years later. They weren’t exactly friends, but Lionel Simons had learned to let go of his hatred for Jerry once he’d realized that Charlotte truly loved him. Now, with Lionel in his eighties, Jerry checked on him from time to time just because he could.

  Grant and Gracie?

  Wow. The idea of the two of them together still blew his mind. But what was even more unreal was the fact that Gracie hadn’t bothered to tell him. Not that any of his daughters had bothered to talk to him about their relationships, especially when it came to dating men who worked on the ranch.

  To be honest, Jerry didn’t really give a shit who they dated, just as long as the men knew to treat them right. That was his only requirement and one of the main reasons he threw his weight around so much. It was a warning. If they fucked with his kids, they were fucking with him.

  And just like that rotten fucking bastard Garrett had learned, Jerry didn’t put up with anyone mistreating his daughters. No one. Goddammit! Just the thought of that no-good fuckup made his blood pressure rise.

  Shaking off the memory, Jerry pushed off the desk and walked around behind it. Dropping into his chair, he eyed the phone. He reached for the receiver but stopped himself before he had it in his hand. He did that three more times before he snatched the damn thing up and stabbed the numbers into the phone. Putting the receiver to his ear, he waited for her to answer.