by Hayes, Somer
I grabbed a bottle of water and stalked away from the booth and the women who were still in line. I ignored their calls and complaints and went in search of Grace. I was sure she’d been busy running the event, but I was still somewhat surprised and annoyed she hadn’t been by to check on me. It seemed the least she could do after putting me in such a bad position.
I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. There was no answer. I spotted a woman I recognized as being on the planning committee and flagged her down. “Have you seen Grace?” I asked.
“She left, honey. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
What the hell?
Something was up. It wasn’t like her to leave without saying anything, or at the very least sending a text. She hadn’t mentioned that she wasn’t feeling well, and now she hadn’t answered her phone for maybe the first time ever when I called. To hell with it. I went to the truck and climbed in, then headed straight for Grace’s house. Her car was in the driveway, and the house was dark. I went to the door and was surprised to find it locked. I would have assumed she’d know I would want to go home with her tonight.
I took the hidden key out of the planter by the door and let myself into the silent house. “Grace?” I called and was met with no answer. I clicked a lamp on for some light and then climbed the stairs to her bedroom. I could see her form lying under the covers on her side, facing away from me. “Grace, baby, are you okay?”
“What are we doing, Beau?” she asked. Her voice barely more than a whisper.
“What do you mean?” I asked, coming around the bed to look at her. She was staring at the wall, and I would have sworn her cheeks were streaked with tears.
“Us. What is this? What are we doing?” Her eyes found mine, and they seemed at once vacant and pained.
“I thought we were having a good time, enjoying each other.”
The hint of a smile played over her lips. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
My eyebrows furrowed trying to understand. “Is that not what you want me to say?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want you to say,” she said flatly, and it was then that I noticed the empty bottle of wine on her end table. “Because no matter what you say, it doesn’t change the truth of what we are.”
I was tired, hungry, and annoyed. I was in no mood to play games, especially with Grace who until now had always been painfully straightforward and to the point. “So, what are we then? Why don’t you tell me,” I demanded maybe more harshly than was necessary.
“Sex,” she said, and I felt it like a punch in my gut. “That’s what you want, right? Sex? With me? With the girl you know will be leaving town soon, so you can have your fun and not worry about any consequences.”
I felt my jaw clench of its own accord. What the hell had gotten into her? “Yes, Grace. You are the most attractive creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Yes, I wanted to have sex with you. But this is more than that, and you know it.”
Her eyes rolled to mine. “How would I know it? It’s not like you’ve ever told me.”
“Okay. I’m not going to argue with you right now. You’ve been drinking, and I’m exhausted. Why don’t you call me when you sober up?” And as my parting shot, I said, “By the way, you’re welcome for the help today.”
Her laugh sounded strangled. “You want me to thank you? You had half of Great Falls fawning all over you today, many of whom seemed to be there for more than charity, and you want me to thank you?”
Some form of understanding took hold, though I had trouble reconciling it with what I knew of Grace. “If this is jealousy, it doesn’t look good on you.” And then, before she could reply or we could dive deeper into a fight, I left. I didn’t know this Grace. The Grace I knew was objective and levelheaded to a fault. I’d often found myself wondering if she ever allowed herself to feel anything before she analyzed it all away. Apparently, when she had feelings, she had them deeply.
But that still didn’t explain what had happened or what she thought I’d done to her, and I would be damned if I was going to take any abuse when all I’d been trying to do was help. No, screw that. I hadn’t even wanted to do the stupid booth. The committee had asked me to do it, and Grace had informed me that I would. Because of that, she didn’t get to be mad at me, I decided.
I got back in my truck and pulled out of her driveway. I needed to get some food and beer into my belly. I considered going home, but instead, my truck somehow found its way to Murphy’s Pub . I parked, then grumbled my way to the door which I threw open.
“It’s a Maverick,” Murphy exclaimed, then chortled with laughter. I didn’t pretend to get the joke and took a seat at the bar.
“Whiskey.”
“Well, hello to you, too,” Murphy chided. “What kind of whiskey, your majesty?”
My eyes flipped to his, and whatever he saw in them sobered his mood. “Any kind,” I replied flatly.
He didn’t say anything as he placed a glass in front of me and poured one of his more expensive bottles into my glass. I drained it and motioned for more. If Grace were going to numb herself past the point of any feelings regarding me, then I would do the same. As I sat at the bar and drank, I did the worst possible thing you could do. I thought. And the more I thought, the more indignant I became. I didn’t need this kind of drama in my life. I’d been floating along just fine before Grace Sutherland came into my life. Happy? No. Content? No. Comfortable in my misery? Yes.
Now that I knew what it felt like not to be miserable, I didn’t know if I could go back to that point of being okay in my misery. Grace had come into my life, uninvited, and shone her beautiful, bright light into the darkest parts of my life. Now that I knew every deep corner and shadow could be filled with her light, how did she expect me to go back into the darkness?
I’d shrivel up.
The nerve. My first impression was of a bossy, Type A who did what she wanted regardless of how it affected others. Maybe I’d been right. Maybe all the sex was robbing me of my ability to think logically. Maybe even Grace was right. She’d made it abundantly clear that she had no plans to stay in Great Falls once she’d reached her goal. So why was I letting myself get so wrapped up in her? Just so I could hurt later?
Not happening. If she wanted to wrap herself up in her own self-preservation, then so could I.
33
Grace
A morning passed, then a day, then it had been a week, and before I knew it, almost a full month had passed since Beau and I had spoken. I constantly battled myself, one part of me wanting to call and apologize, tell him I’d been stupid and how embarrassed I was about my behavior. But the other part of me knew I hadn’t been wrong. I’d poured all my energy and hurt into my work, and if the numbers continued coming in as they had been, I’d be leaving Montana by New Year’s, which was less than six weeks away. It wasn’t fair to rekindle something I’d be forced to extinguish.
Besides, I hadn’t heard from him either. That, in itself, was telling. Maybe I’d been right all along. Maybe it was just a fling. Just some fun. I couldn’t fault him. It’s not as though I’d ever asked or told him what I was feeling. That was the Sutherland in me, I lamented—detached, unemotional, maybe even cold.
I filled Claire’s bowl with the soft food she’d begun eating and poured milk over it, then softened it with a fork. It smelled like death, but she seemed to love it. I sat it on the kitchen floor next to her water bowl, and she bounded over to devour it. Once she’d graduated from formula to real food, she had flourished. She was growing like a weed, learning and exploring more every day. She’d even mastered the art of the litter box for which I was eternally grateful.
I kissed her head. “Bye, sweet girl. I’ll be home soon.” She ignored me and continued to eat. I left the house and trudged toward the theater. It had already begun snowing in Montana, but the evening was mild enough that I decided to walk to the board meeting. Beau had excused himself from the last one, and it was my fervent hope that he skipped this
one too. I functioned better without him there, and the board could still vote by majority even if the chair weren’t present.
I arrived at the theater and put a hand on the door. I forced a deep, calming breath before I pushed it open and marched to the boardroom. If he were there, I would be damned if I would let him know how much I missed him or how much I hurt without him. My eyes scanned the room, and my whole body relaxed when I realized he wasn’t there.
“Dr. Maverick got called away on an emergency,” Etta told me. “But everyone else is present.”
I nodded distractedly and went to the front of the room. “Let’s get started, shall we?” I ran everyone through the current numbers, projected numbers, and provided an update on when I thought we’d be able to begin renovations. By the end of my presentation, I was exhausted. I wanted a glass of wine and my bed as was par for the course these past few weeks.
“Does the board have anything to bring to the table?”
A hand raised, and I tried not to glare at him. “Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “I had the opportunity to meet with Rhett and Tripp Maverick recently, and I approached them about our efforts here,” he said and looked around the room.
“Don’t you think that would have been more appropriate to come from Beau or me?” I asked, instantly irritated that he’d gone around my back and spoken with a donor he knew was on my list.
“I saw an opportunity, and I took it,” he said. “I would think even you could appreciate that.”
I narrowed my eyes at the man who hoped to be the next chair. I could appreciate his power play, but he’d be gone before next season if I had anything to say about it.
“And Tripp had the wonderful idea of holding a concert on their land. As many of you know, he and Dr. Maverick have put considerable effort into their bison refuge. We thought the idea of an outdoor concert to benefit both the symphony and their refuge was a wonderful idea.”
It was a great idea, dammit, and one sure to draw a lot of attention and money. Had Beau ever bothered mentioning the refuge, I might have even thought of it. My anger toward him doubled again. To combat the weather, we put it to an immediate vote so we could begin the planning phase right away. It passed unanimously.
I had been put back in the position of working with Beau again.
Shit.
34
Beau
“You did what,” I yelled at Tripp.
“I organized an event to benefit both our refuge and your precious symphony. You’re welcome.” He didn’t look up from his work of brushing out his horse after our ride.
“No. No way. Cancel it,” I told him.
“Not happening,” he said. “It’s a good idea, and Hannah is looking forward to going.”
“Can you even begin to understand the situation you’ve put me in?” I asked. “You know Grace and I haven’t been speaking.”
He paused working the horse. “I understand exactly the situation I’ve put you in. You were different when Grace was around. Happy, lighter, almost tolerable. I don’t care what kind of spat you two had, you need to figure it out.”
I spat. “What’s the point? She’s leaving soon.”
“Exactly.” He pointed a finger at me, and I wanted to break it in half. “She’ll be leaving soon. Man up and do the right thing.”
“Since when are you such an expert?” I challenged, but he ignored me.
I cursed. I’d skipped my second board meeting in a row because I didn’t trust myself or my reactions when it came to Grace. My heart couldn’t afford to take the gamble of seeing her again. I had every intention of avoiding her and laying low until after she’d left town. Then my stupid, meddling big brother had gotten involved. I wanted to murder him.
“By the way, they want to beat the weather, so we’re taking them on a tour tomorrow so they can begin preparations.”
“By ‘we’ you’d better mean ‘you,’” I told him.
“I mean we. Not only are you part owner in the refuge, but you’re also the chairman of their board. How would it look if you don’t show?” He winked, and I threw a horse brush at him.
He dodged it. “Be here at nine o’clock for the tour… and Beau?”
I looked at him. “Be on your best behavior.”
I fumed the entire way home. Leave it to Tripp to make a bad situation worse. I stormed into the house, drained a beer, then grabbed another one and went upstairs. Sleep was slow to come, and when it did, I was tortured with dreams of Grace.
The next morning came, and I arrived at the ranch as promised. Dad, Tripp, and I waited for our visitors on horseback. I hated the way my heart sped up when I saw the cars pulling down the driveway. They parked in front of the garage and people began stepping out of them. I nodded in greeting. Grace was in the back of the second car. She got out and scanned the crowd. Her eyes landed on me, then flitted away as though she’d never seen me.
It’s going to be like that, huh?
Okay. Two could play at childish games, I told myself. I leaned forward in the saddle. “Welcome. Thanks for coming out on such short notice. We’re excited to show you our efforts with the bison and hear your thoughts for the fundraiser.” I gestured to two ATVs. Bill and Mike will drive you out to the range.” I tipped the brim of my hat and made a point of not looking at Grace when I nudged my horse forward, then veered toward the right.
Tripp caught up with me. “That wasn’t obvious at all,” he said.
“Shut up.”
Dad joined us, and we kept an easy pace so the group on the ATVs could keep up. It took about thirty minutes on horseback to get from the main house to the land we kept the bison on. It was thirty of the most painful minutes of my life knowing Grace was right behind me but not allowing myself to turn or look at her. By the time we got to the range, my mood had soured completely. “This was your bright idea,” I told Rhett and Tripp. “You guys can take it from here.”
I led my horse to a grassy knoll and let her graze. I looked out over the rolling acres and mountains in the background, the bison herd proud and strong at their feet. I watched the group and tried not to imagine what Grace was saying when she spoke. She had a way about her of being with the group, yet somehow apart. She seemed friendly and engaged, but when she thought no one was looking, her face fell into a blank mask. She wrapped her arms around herself, and I wondered if it was because she was cold or because she was feeling as wretched as I was.
If it was the latter, it was her own fault, I decided with a cold detachment.
35
Grace
I had been dreading this day for two weeks. The concert at the Maverick Ranch was slated for tonight, and I’d give almost anything not to go. Planning it had been a feat all of its own with the rushed timeline and the desire for such an upscale event. If it were anywhere else and I didn’t have to worry about ignoring Beau all night, I’d be looking forward to an amazing evening filled with great music, food, and cocktails all under the big Montana sky. Unfortunately, the opposite was true, and my stomach churned.
I stepped in front of the mirror for a final inspection. I wore a long silver gown with a white wrap draped around my shoulders and plum-colored shoes. I’d chosen to leave my hair down and had put long, loose curls in it. There would be heaters in the tent, but I knew it could be chilly getting out to the range and back, so I pulled on matching purple gloves that reached just past my elbows.
I looked over at Claire who was perched on the bathroom counter watching me curiously. “Wish me luck,” I told her and rubbed my nose against her forehead. Then it was time to go. I took a deep, fortifying breath, got in my car, and drove north until I found the giant wrought iron ‘M’ that signified Maverick land. I drove down the long drive and pulled into the grass where they had designated parking. Then I joined the crowd gathering in front of the beautiful log Maverick family home and waited for the horse-drawn carriages that would carry everyone to the event.
I climbed into one with several pe
ople I recognized from the theater and around town. We chatted and made polite small talk while sipping on champagne. I pulled my wrap tighter around me and tried not to feel jealous of the woman across from me whose husband had wrapped her in his tuxedo jacket and held her tightly against him. I sipped my drink and watched the stars above me thinking of the conversation I’d had with my grandmother earlier in the day. The Manchester Board had reviewed my progress, and in her words, had been ‘blown away’ by the numbers I’d reported. I was already almost at the goal they’d initially set for me at the one-year mark. If tonight went well, and I hit that number, it meant I could go back home and continue to support the Great Falls Symphony from our headquarters in Manchester.
I prayed tonight would be a success. The past few weeks had drained me completely, and I didn’t know how much longer I could stand to be in the same state as Beau. I could hear the excitement from the carriages as we crested a hill and looked down at the acre-size white tent perched below. The carriages pulled us up to the tent, and we climbed down one by one where we were met with the orchestra already seated and waiting. Waiters dressed in white escorted us to our assigned seats, and when I gave them my name, I found myself at a table in the front row. I quickly scanned the other nameplates at the table, and my heart dropped when I realized Beau was just two seats over. It made sense that the executive director and the chairman of the board would be seated together, but I wanted to cry nonetheless.
Plates of appetizers were delivered and bottles of wine uncorked. I ate and drank without really tasting. My lips and limbs felt numb with dread. Etta arrived and took the seat next to me. She would be my buffer for the evening. I smiled at her.
“You look lovely,” I told her, and she preened.
She wore a peach-colored gown with a jacket and brooch. “Thank you. It’s such fun to have a reason to get all dressed up.” She sat, and a waiter arrived at her side to fill her glass with white wine. “This is beautiful,” she said with a hint of pride in her voice.
