Marion’s brows rose even farther in obvious disapproval, and Grace wondered with one more surprise, if they’d disappear under her hairline.
Returning her attention to Grace, Marion smiled. “Speaking of your wedding, you looked absolutely divine at your dress fitting yesterday. I can’t wait until Tyler sees you walking down the aisle. You will be such a beautiful bride.” One hand fluttered over her heart and the other brushed away a small tear.
Grace smiled, wanting to appear grateful for her future mother-in-law’s compliments. The truth was she’d been less than excited at her bridal fitting. The wedding dress had fit like a satin glove. The train flowed behind her, gloriously long, and her tiara and veil completed a breathtaking picture. Oohs and aahs sounded all around the room. But for Grace, she felt shockingly little joy when she saw herself in the full-length mirror.
When Tyler had proposed five months ago, she thought all her dreams were coming true. Now, doubts popped up like dandelions. She’d wanted to marry Tyler since she’d first seen him at twelve years old. Why had she suddenly developed cold feet?
“Hello, hello, hello,” her dad’s voice boomed. He shook Dr. Ross’s hand.
Grace saw Heath tighten in anticipation of Bruce’s now-expected pat on the back. The physical action was Dad’s way of showing his affection, along with testing the measure of a man. Judging from the respect Dad showed Heath, he had proven solid on all fronts.
Instead of a smack on the back, Bruce gripped Heath’s shoulder with his large hand and gave him a fatherly squeeze. “Good to see you, Heath.”
As Bruce and Dr. Ross started a discussion regarding the town’s plan for rezoning a large parcel of land, Grace wanted an escape. “I’m taking Heath over to visit Mrs. Hernandez’s tamale stand. Enjoy the rest of your day.” She walked away with Heath, feeling the laser-focus scrutiny of Marion’s gaze. After all her dealings with the prim and proper surgeon’s wife, she knew Tyler’s mother excelled at stirring up gossip.
Marion would be on the phone with her son the second she got home tonight. Heath was not the type of person she’d find an acceptable escort for the woman engaged to her only son.
“I should probably get going. Thanks for the race. I had fun beating you.” Heath shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.
“Wait.” She reached over and grabbed his arm, not ready to say goodbye just yet. “You can’t leave without trying a tamale. Molly’s mom has her stand right over there. Come on.”
With a shrug, he turned to follow. They walked past the dunk tank on their way to the tamale stand. A flock of high school football players and cheerleaders called out to passersby.
“When I was that age, I didn’t fit in with that group.” Heath pointed his chin toward the kids.
If I would’ve known Heath Carter in high school, those days would have been full of amusement. “Tyler was popular. The star football player. Everyone wanted to be in his circle. I, on the other hand, hung out on the edges.”
“Popular kids,” he huffed. “Definitely more fun to be the class troublemaker.”
“You, a troublemaker?” Widening her eyes, she placed her hand over her opened mouth in mock surprise. “I find that hard to believe.”
Laughter was his only reply.
When she passed the dunk tank, she saw the red-and-orange striped tent. Nearby, a short man plucked at a banjo, sending a bluegrass song drifting through the air.
“Mrs. Hernandez is right over there.” She wasn’t surprised by the long line of people in front of the tent. Over the years, word of Mrs. Hernandez’s food had gotten around. Eating at her stand was a tradition when attending the festival.
At their approach, a tiny Hispanic woman greeted them. “¡Hola, mi hija! So happy to see you.” After shuffling around a table topped with trays of delicious-smelling tamales, she wrapped Grace in a loving hug.
“Hola, Mamá.” Grace gave her a kiss on her soft cheek. “Meet my friend, Heath. He’s working on our ranch.”
Heath had to bend over to receive the kisses Mrs. Hernandez placed on both his cheeks.
At the rear of the tent, Molly, dressed in casual street clothes, waved to Grace. Molly pulled out a steamy tray from the heat box and brought it to the table. “Hello again, Mr. Carter.”
“What a pleasure to see you again, officer.” Heath’s face turned serious, but only for a few seconds. His tight set mouth soon lifted in a grin.
“You doing okay, Grace?” Molly’s scowl stayed firmly in place.
Grace mouthed to her friend to go easy on Heath. The poor guy didn’t need another person making him uncomfortable. “We’re having loads of fun. He beat me at the sack race, but only because I let him.” Grace patted Heath on the arm and winked. “I wouldn’t let him leave before he tried one of your tamales.”
“Come, sit.” Mamá Hernandez took Heath by the elbow and led him over to a small table with two folding chairs. “I’ll be right back with something good to eat.” She returned shortly and placed two paper plates on the table, one for Grace and another for Heath. Each plate was topped with packets wrapped in corn husks. A small container of green chili sauce sat next to the tamales.
As he studied his plate, his brow furrowed. “Do you eat the corn husk?” Heath picked at the tamale with his plastic fork.
“Um…no. Peel off the husks. The good stuff’s inside.” If he planned on staying in Texas, he’d have to get more familiar with the local cuisine. Her mouth watered as the familiar smell hit her nose. Grace demonstrated with her own, revealing a baked masa shell filled with seasoned chicken.
Heath took a tentative first bite.
Before she knew it, his plate was empty, except for a layer of corn husks.
He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin and groaned.
Mamá Hernandez came over to their table and pointed to his plate. “Did you like?” she asked Heath with a wide smile.
“Where have you been all my life?” Grinning, he took her tiny hand and kissed the top.
The light brown skin on her face blushed rose. “Bromista.” She squeezed his hand. “You call me Maria, you handsome tease.”
Molly, who stood in the tent nearby, rolled her eyes. “Mamá, stop flirting. Geez, you’re as bad as Aunt Consuela during happy hour.”
“Leave us be.” She waved away her daughter. “You’d do good to find a man like this.”
Molly let out a loud groan. “Oh, Mamá, if you only knew.”
Heath smiled at Maria Hernandez and winked. His dimple peeked out from behind his beard.
Grace was totally amazed at how much Heath had changed since she’d first met him two weeks ago. Back then, he barely spoke more than a few words at a time. Now, he was openly flirting with a woman old enough to be his mother.
She liked his quirky sense of humor. The more time she spent with him, the more she appreciated the inner strength he carried. He was confident without being overbearing and funny without being demeaning. She was glad others like Mamá Hernandez could see past the long hair and tattoos to appreciate the good man inside.
After talking with Heath a little longer, Mamá went to serve her other customers.
Grace and Heath lingered at the table, drinking lemonade and sharing stories. While Heath talked, her mind drifted to the dream she had last night. In her dream, they had been alone in the barn. She remembered the feeling of his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close and the tickle of his beard as he kissed her neck. Her gaze now drifted to his lips, and she thought about how they had tasted in her dream, like bourbon and honey. Desire took over her body, and she sipped her cold lemonade, quelling the heat. “Phew.” She fanned her face with her hand. She knew her cheeks were probably bright red from her improper thoughts. “It’s really hot out today.”
He cocked a brow and tilted his head. “Are you okay?”
“Heath, there you are.” Bruce approached their table at a jog. “You’re needed at the pie contest, pronto. We could use one more judge.
”
“If I’ll eat loads of pie then lead the way.” Heath stood, his gaze never leaving Grace. “Thanks for the tamales. I’ll find you when I’m done.”
“Go.” She shooed him away. All this social interaction was good for him. Plus, he’d get to eat a truckload of pie. “Your fellow pie-loving countrymen need your taste buds. See you later.” Grace stayed behind to talk with Molly. She pulled her away from the tamale stand to walk through the art exhibits.
“Be careful, Grace.” Molly gingerly set down a hundred dollar hand-made glass bowl. “I know Heath’s type, and they’re loaded with problems. You may want to help him, but you won’t fix him. You’ll only be hurt in the process.”
She considered what her friend said, but Molly had seen Heath at his worst. “Maybe you should get to know him better. Why not come out to the ranch sometime? We can hang out, and you can see Heath isn’t a menace to society.”
Molly gave an uncommitted mumble.
An hour later, the late afternoon sky turned a bright shade of orange. The air buzzed with renewed activity with the arrival of an older evening crowd. Molly returned to help her mom, and Grace found Heath with her dad and Alex, sitting at a picnic table. Jenny had taken the twins home so they could go to bed.
“How did Mom do this year?” Grace sat next to her dad. “She had big expectations for her pecan pie.”
“Blue ribbon,” Alex said with a wide grin. “Mrs. Nelson’s mixed berry pie gave her a run for her money, though. I think Ma got nervous when they were handing out awards.”
“She always manages to come out on top,” Grace said with pride.
Heath sat across from her, wearing a relaxed smile.
He had stayed. He looked happy. Warmth spread through her, settling in her heart. No matter where their lives would take them in the future, she’d always have the memory of this fun day. Molly’s warning flashed in her mind. She reassured herself the feelings she’d developed for Heath were merely a response to seeing someone in need. But she knew Molly was right about one thing. Heath’s issues were more complex than a bird with a broken wing. His demons were stronger than she could mend. Her mother came toward them, wearing a smile that could be seen from space.
In her hand was a large blue ribbon. “There y’all are. Another year…another win.”
“Congratulations, Mom.” Grace recognized the triumphant smile on Joslyn’s face. The same smile she’d worn a time or two. She couldn’t deny that was one thing she’d inherited from her mother—a fierce competitive streak.
“Heath did a fine job as judge.” Bruce rested his folded hands over his midsection. “He ate so much pie that at one point I thought he might split in half.”
“He obviously has good taste.” Joslyn sat at the table next to her husband.
In the sky, a flash lit up the twilight, followed by a deep boom. Blue and red sparks glittered above.
Heath hunched his head low.
Grace saw his face turn a milky white, and perspiration beaded on his forehead.
“I need to go,” Heath muttered. He jumped off the bench at the same time another firework exploded overhead. The next second, he dove to the ground and covered his head with both arms.
Bruce knelt next to Heath. “Grace.” He put a hand under Heath’s arm to help him stand. “We need to get him as far away from these blasted fireworks as possible.”
Watching Heath, the sad truth hit her like the touch of a live wire and her stomach clenched. The fireworks must have triggered a panic response. In Heath’s mind, he was at war, where bombs meant death. She ran over to help, understanding the urgency to get him out of the park.
Chapter Thirteen
As Grace and Bruce stood on either side of Heath, moving him through the crowd, the fireworks continued a non-stop barrage. His whole body shook, and she could feel the effort needed to simply put one foot in front of the other. Grace sensed a crack growing inside of him. She hoped they’d get him to a safe place before the flood was released.
“Grace, I want you to drive him home,” Dad commanded.
“Okay.” She tried so hard not to break down into tears at the sight of this strong man, crumbling like a dried clump of earth.
He had slipped out of reality, into another place and time. Heath lost his footing.
The weight of his body was more than Grace could support.
He fell to his knees and raised his hands to cover his ears. A groan came from deep inside him.
The sound ripped apart her soul. She knelt and gently cupped his face in her hands. “Heath,” she whispered. “Look at me. You’re in Texas. You’re safe.”
His wild gaze met hers with a glimmer of comprehension.
Bruce grabbed Heath’s arm and helped him to his feet. “Grace will drive you home. Just hold on…you’ll be out of here soon.”
Bruce opened the door of her car, but Heath’s stomach gave way.
Grace jumped back and frowned.
“Once he feels safe, he’ll calm down,” her dad said over the boom of more fireworks.
With Heath now in the car, she turned the ignition key and peeled out of the parking lot. Her hands and wrists ached from her tight grip on the steering wheel. The drive home was a blur, with her mind going in a million different directions. Admitting that she cared for Heath was easy. But realizing how deep those feelings had become was a difficult pill to swallow. His pain had become her pain. Could time and love heal his broken spirit?
She turned onto the gravel drive and drove under the True Horizon sign. Besides a few outdoor lights, the house and grounds were dark. Turning off the car, she sat quiet and still. The metallic ping of the cooling engine echoed in the car.
Heath continued to stare out the window. He turned to face her. “Thank you.”
His voice sounded as rough as stone. “Will you sit on the porch with me for awhile? The night air will help clear your head.”
After a nod, Heath followed her onto the porch and sat on a white rocking chair.
“Would you like a drink? Something to smooth out your nerves?”
He nodded before staring out into the darkness.
When she returned, she placed a short glass of whiskey in his hand and a bottle of water on the table. In her other hand was a damp towel. “You have a little mess on your face.” She knelt before him. The moment she started washing his face, his whole body slackened.
****
Slowly, Heath returned to reality. Grace served as his anchor and her calming presence soothed his troubled mind. The warmth of her hand on his face relaxed him more than any shot of whiskey. Grace’s dark hair, backlit by the porch light, made her look like his personal angel of mercy.
“There.” She laid the washcloth over the porch rail before taking a seat in the rocker next to him. “You look better.”
“I’m sorry about what happened.” He cleared his throat. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you and your family.” The ringing in his ears dimmed to a low-pitched buzz. At the park, he’d been caught completely off guard. His shock had turned so quickly to panic. If not for Grace and her family, he would have been utterly lost.
“I won’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. But I’m a good listener, if you ever feel like sharing your burden.”
Needing a physical connection, he took hold of her hand. Her engagement ring dug into his palm, stinging his skin. “I couldn’t save him. My best friend died because I failed.”
“What was his name?” she asked.
Her voice was calm and soothing, like wind rippling through prairie grass. “John Ellis. We were friends for over eight years. Both of us were Green Berets, assigned to the same team. He was a weapons specialist, and I was trained as a medic. We were as close as brothers…no, even closer.” His memories of John had been locked away, kept private to ward off the pain. Now, his complete trust in Grace helped him unburden some of the weight crushing his chest.
“How did he die?”
“We were on a high
ly classified mission.” Heath slipped backward in time and saw the events unfold before him. “Our team was in pursuit of a highly valuable target. John was shot several times. I tried to treat him. We were taking enemy fire…we had to fall back.” He took a long drink, the liquid burning a path to his stomach. A rogue muscle in his cheek twitched in time to the pounding of his heart. “By the time the medevac chopper arrived, it was too late.”
“And you blame yourself.”
Her words were more of a statement than a question. “Every single day,” he answered without hesitation. “I was trained to save lives, and I couldn’t save my best friend. He died on my watch.”
Grace squeezed his hand. “You were in combat and were forced to make quick decisions. With the hindsight you have now, could you have done anything different?”
Heath rubbed his face with his free hand. “I don’t know. I would give anything to have another chance. John left behind a wife and young son. For over a year, Julie didn’t know how her husband died because of the classified nature of the mission. I let her suffer, until I finally got the nerve to tell her the truth.”
The crickets played their evening melody.
Heath looked over to see a frown on Grace’s face. Panic hit him like a punch in the gut. Did his failure change her opinion of him?
She sighed. “When good men die it is a tragedy, especially so when they’re young. You would have done anything to save him, even risk your own life. I think what happened that day was well out of your control.”
He shifted in his seat to face her. “Guilt is the price I have to pay. I’m here…and he’s not.” He paid every day. The guilt may recede but it never went away, even in his sleep.
A tear glistened in the corner of Grace’s eye. She entwined her fingers with his. “If he was your friend then he would want you to be happy. He’d be mad if he knew you still carried all this guilt, right?”
The idea of John returning for one last fight made Heath smile. “Yeah, he’d probably whack me upside the head with the end of his rifle.”
“How many lives do you think you’ve saved over the years?” Grace lifted her gaze to look him in the eyes.
True Horizon Page 12
