by Mary Alford
“I’m so sorry,” he said with so much sincerity that it made her want to cry. The strange thing was it didn’t hurt so bad with Kyle close.
“The funny thing is I never wanted to be singer. When I moved to Nashville it had been to pursue a career as a songwriter. I loved writing music. I got into the singing part of the business by accident.”
“Do you still write?” he asked.
She pulled away to look at him in disbelief and shook her head. “No, that part of my life is over.”
Kyle cupped her face. “You say you can’t sing anymore, but that doesn’t mean you can’t write songs.”
She stared at him. “I can’t. I have nothing left inside of me. I can’t write country music songs.”
“I’m not talking about country. What about Christian songs? It’s a growing industry, and musicians are always looking for talented songwriters.”
She hadn’t considered the possibility that she might be able to write music again. She’d just written that part of her life off completely. Now, the thought of writing again filled her with a small amount of hope. “I never thought about it, I guess.”
He kissed her forehead and let her go. “Well, it’s just something to think about. You said you loved to write music. Don’t shut that part of your life out.” He looked at his watch and cringed. “And now, if we’re going to make it to the service in time, we’d better hurry.”
What little bit of hope his words instilled was squashed. “Wait, Kyle, there’s something more. A reporter from Nashville has been trying to reach me for an interview, and I don’t know what to do about it. I−I can’t talk to her.”
He got to his feet and pulled her up. “Do you have her name and number?” he asked in concern.
“Yes, I jotted it down so I could avoid her before I erased her messages. Why?”
“Give it to me. Let me handle it for you. I can talk to her. See what she has in mind. I’ll let you know what she’s after, and you can decide if you want me to pass a message on to her.”
A heavy weight lifted from Grace’s heart. She’d told someone about her past and Kyle never once blamed her or tried to make her feel guilty.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. She handed him the name and number.
He frowned.
“What is it?” she asked as a little bit of fear crept into her peace of mind.
“I know this reporter. She’s fair and honest but she’s also tenacious. If she thinks there’s a story, she won’t stop until she ferrets it out.”
“You think she’ll keep coming after me until I talk to her.” She saw the truth before he spoke it aloud.
“I think you have to be prepared for that outcome. But let me see what she wants. Maybe you could compose a brief statement that might possibly satisfy her curiosity.”
“You don’t think so, though.”
“Honestly, no, I don’t. But it doesn’t hurt to try and no matter what happens it’ll be OK. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here for you.” Kyle brought her back into his arms and kissed her long and slow.
He wasn't Nick. He didn't feel like Nick, didn't kiss like Nick, and he certainly didn’t act like Nick. And she wanted to be near him. Wanted him to keep on kissing her. Wanted…
Reluctantly he ended the kiss. “If we have any chance at making the morning service, we’d better hurry.”
The sweet moment between them may have passed, but the way she felt about him hadn’t. She wanted much more than friendship. “I’ll just go wash my face. I’ll only be a minute,” she assured him.
He smiled tenderly down at her. “Good. I’ll wait for you outside.”
****
“Ready?” Kyle asked as he opened the passenger door for her.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Yes, I’m ready.” There was much more meaning to her answer than whether she was ready to leave for the service.
Even emotionally exhausted and slightly embarrassed by their shared intimacy, she was beautiful. Her silky, golden brown hair fell across her face, hiding the slight flush there. He remembered the feel of it against his fingers. The way her eyes darkened when he kissed her. The sweet touch of her lips against his own. He gave himself a mental shake. Best not to go there right now. Kyle got in beside her and started the SUV. “You look very pretty by the way.”
She blushed at the compliment. “Thank you,” she said a little breathlessly and stared straight ahead.
He grinned as he put the SUV in gear and headed down the mountain.
They found a parking space up close to the front of the church. He and Grace got out and hurried inside just as the music began.
“Let’s slip into the back seat over there. I really don’t want to sit up front today,” Grace whispered close to his ear.
Kyle spotted a couple of empty seats at the back, and they sat down.
“There’s Martha. I think she’s spotted us.” Kyle pointed to the older woman who was vigorously waving at them.
Grace waved in return. “I’ll say hi to her after church. She and I will be working together tomorrow, so we’ll have time to chat more then.” She turned to him. “Kyle, she doesn’t know about…who I was. No one does. I’d just prefer it stay that way.”
He understood and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, and the chances of anyone finding out about what happened are very slim.”
She smiled in relief.
His pulse drummed a crazy beat that he didn’t want to explain to her. They had both been through so much in the past. They were both wounded by life. Was it possible for them to find happiness together? What if she didn’t want anything more than friendship from him? The thought was hard to consider, but it was a very real possibility.
The music began, and he shoved his concerns aside. There were so many mountains ahead of him with starting the ranch up and taking care of Jessup. Love was the last thing he needed to be thinking about right now. Still, he could almost imagine it with her. The way it was supposed to be. Not the way he had loved Renee, his feelings numbed by the alcohol, but completely, totally. With all his heart.
11
Monday morning, Kyle closed the door of his office and called the reporter pestering Grace. He’d done several phone interviews with her through the years. He’d always found her to be fair. But she was a reporter, and it was her job to get the story.
“Tara Michaels.” The familiar confident voice of one of the top journalists in Nashville came through the line loud and clear.
“Ms. Michaels, my name is Kyle Delaney. I’m not sure if you remember me, but we’ve spoken before.”
Only a second of silence passed before Tara answered. “Oh, yes, of course I remember you. You manage Jackson Road. How can I help you, Mr. Delaney?”
“I used to manage Jackson Road,” he corrected. “They’re with someone else now.”
“Are you still in the business?” she asked him curiously.
Kyle knew if he had the chance to convince Tara not to pursue the interview with Grace then he had to be completely honest with her. “No, I’m not actually in the business anymore, but I’m calling on behalf of a friend of mine. Someone you’ve contacted recently for an interview. Crystal Samuels.” The silence following his revelation had him wondering what the woman might be thinking.
“I see. You’re right. I have been trying to reach Miss Samuels for a while now. Actually since the accident, but she all but disappeared off the face of the earth. Her fans are curious to hear what’s going on in her life since her husband’s death.”
Kyle would have his hands full trying to convince Tara Michaels to let go of the possibility of an interview with Grace. “As you can imagine, it’s been extremely hard for Crystal since that night.”
Tara paused a second then said, “I can imagine. Especially with all the accusations from Nick Samuels’s sister flying around about Crystal being the cause of the accident.”
Kyle’s anger rose at the insensitivity of the y
oung woman. “Yes, well, the police report proved those accusations wrong, and we’re getting off topic here.”
“Really. I’d say we’re right on topic, wouldn’t you?”
Kyle didn’t miss the sarcasm in the reporter’s tone. “No. I wouldn’t. I called you today to give you a statement from Crystal if you’re interested.”
The noisy sigh on the other end told him this wasn’t the answer she wanted. ”Of course, I’ll take a statement, but I’d prefer to hear from her about her side of the story.”
Kyle said a quick prayer under his breath for calm. “I’m sorry that won’t be possible.”
“What’s the statement?” The reporter’s response was laced with displeasure.
Kyle picked up the paper where Grace had written a brief but emotional statement for him to read. “My heart goes out to the Samuels family on this anniversary of Nick’s passing. I, too, mourn the loss of him. Nick’s death has left a hole in the country music world that can never be filled. As you may know, I was injured in the accident, but what you may not know is that my vocal cords were destroyed that night, and I am no longer able to sing. Because of this, I have put my career in music behind me. I wish to live a simple life now, and I hope you will respect my desire for privacy as I continue to heal both physically and emotionally. Thank you, Crystal Samuels.”
“Oh, my goodness,” the reporter whispered. “I had no idea the extent of her injuries. There was only a brief press release. It’s too bad she didn’t make a statement. I think her fans deserved to know.”
“She wanted to keep some things private, as you can understand. Anyway, I hope this helps you with your story but I also pray you’ll respect Crystal’s desire for privacy. Good-bye, Ms. Michaels.” Kyle hung up the phone with a bad feeling that all he had done was further spark Tara Michaels’s interest.
****
“I spoke to her…” Kyle said the minute she opened the door.
Grace had come home from an extremely busy day at work, and she just wanted to curl up in her favorite chair with Lizzy by her side. “What did she say?” she asked.
Kyle ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Not much, really. She accepted the statement, but she really wanted to hear your side of the story.”
In other words, she wouldn’t give up.
“You think she’ll keep coming after me.”
“I wish I could say no, but I’m sorry, Grace. I don’t believe this is over yet.”
Not the news she’d hoped to hear, but it really wasn’t unexpected. She turned away. She didn’t want him to see her disappointment.
“Hey, don’t worry. You don’t have to fight this alone anymore.” He reached for her and drew her into his arms.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Kyle held her tight and everything around them melted away. Including her fears.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could take it all away. Erase all the bad things that happened in the past.”
She nodded against his chest. “I know you do, but it’s OK. It makes me realize that in spite of everything that happened, you and I are blessed beyond measure, and I don’t want to spend a second of my life living with regret or fear about the past.” She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
His hands framed her face. “You are one of the most positive people I know. And if anyone has the right to feel sorry for themselves from time to time, it’s you. You’re one special woman, Grace.”
A tiny sob escaped as he leaned down and his lips touched hers. She kissed him back with all the passion in her heart.
He ended the kiss, stepped back, and drew in a lungful of air. “I have to say this, Grace because, well, because I want you to know how I feel about you.”
Tears fell from her eyes. “Kyle.”
“I know there are lots of things standing between us right now, including our pasts, but I care about you, Grace.”
“Kyle,” she just kept repeating his name because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. As tears continued to stream down her face, she went into his arms and held him close.
He kissed her gently. When he would have pulled away, ended their sweet kiss, she clung to him.
After a moment, he kissed her cheek and stepped away. “You look tired. I should let you rest. I just wanted to tell you in person what I learned.” With one final lingering glance, he headed for the door.
She didn’t want him to go. “Wait,” she said and he turned with a quizzical look. “Don’t go. I really don’t want to be alone right now.” She hesitated and then asked, “Can you stay for dinner?”
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly as his eyes skimmed over her face. “I don’t want to interrupt your evening.”
“I am. I would really like your company.” She gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
He returned it. “Then you’ve got it. But only if you let me help with the meal.”
****
Kyle followed Grace into the kitchen.
She went over to the pantry. After a moment of rummaging through shelves she held up a jar of spaghetti sauce with brows raised in question.
“Sounds good to me,” he laughed and was rewarded with one of her smiles. He loved the way it lit up her face and her eyes sparkled with humor. He took out a couple of pots and went to the stove. “You do the sauce and I’ll cook the pasta. I think I can handle that.”
She giggled and opened the jar of sauce.
While they worked, Kyle sneaked little glances her way. She wore her shoulder-length brown hair loose. When she moved, the light caught golden streaks in it. She was dressed simply in a white tee shirt and jeans that hugged her body in all the right places. He found himself wondering what she did in her spare time. Did she spend a lot of time outdoors?
“Kyle?”
He came back to the present with her staring as if she’d asked him something. “I beg your pardon?”
“I asked if you like garlic bread sticks. I have some in the fridge.”
“Oh…yeah, I love garlic bread sticks.” He could feel warmth creeping up his neck as he turned away and stirred the pasta.
Once the food was ready, they sat down at the table and clasped their hands.
“Do you mind if I say the prayer?” He had a lot to be thankful for and he wanted God to know how much he appreciated it.
Grace didn’t seem to think anything unusual about his request. She simply bowed her head and silently waited.
“Lord, thank You for providing us with this wonderful food. For giving us each a second chance at living. For forgiving us and giving us the courage to move forward with Your help. Amen.”
“Amen.” Grace glanced over at him, her eyes sparkling with compassion.
Kyle cleared his throat and dug into the spaghetti. Sharing a prayer over a meal always reminded him of the time before his dad passed. They’d prayed over meals. Talked. His dad had tried to share his wisdom with his son, but Kyle had been to burdened by his father’s impending death to take it all in. “This is good,” Kyle told her while trying to shut out those painful memories.
She smiled her gratitude. “Thank you, but you helped as well.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to argue that it was impossible to screw up pasta, but he was learning to take a compliment when it came his way.
She let out the tiniest of giggles, which drew his attention to her. “What’s so funny,” he asked, and then laughed along with her because it was easy to do.
“I was just thinking about when I was a kid, before I moved to Nashville. I used to dream about seeing the mountains one day,” Grace told him with a whimsical smile. “I’d invent all these adventures I would have. In my imagination I got really good at panning for gold.”
He tried to image her as a little girl. He bet she was cute. “Did you have someplace in particular in mind?”
She lifted her shoulders. “No really.” Suddenly all the humor left her face and she looked away. Was she thinking about that night? He wis
hed he could wipe that time and her dreadful past with Nick from her memory completely.
Would there ever come a time when she could trust him enough to let go of the past and fall in love again? It seemed unlikely and his mood soured. He scraped back his chair and got to his feet. “You invited me, so I think it’s only fair that I clean the dishes.” He took their bowls over to the sink and started washing them. Did she notice the change in him?
She didn’t say a word as she began drying and putting the dishes away. “Would you like some coffee?”
He regretted letting what may or may not happen spoil their time together. He’d leave the future in God’s hands. “Sure, coffee would be great.” He managed a smile.
Unexpectedly, she hugged him close.
It took him by surprise, and he tensed for a second at the unfamiliar happiness of being in her arms. Each time they shared moments, a little more of the defenses he’d put in place to keep from getting too close to another woman melted away. After an awkward moment, he drew her closer and simply held her. His cheek rested against the top of her head. The scent of her hair tantalized his senses. He closed his eyes and prayed that God would make him worthy of a second chance at love…with her.
For the longest time they stood silently holding each other, and he became aware of her in a thousand different ways. She felt good in his arms.
In the end, she was the one to pull away. The earnestness in her eyes took his breath away. “Thank you,” she whispered and he couldn’t imagine why.
“For what?” he asked surprised.
“For helping me with the reporter. For being my friend. For…everything.”
She was thanking him. Her sincerity tore at his heart and he stroked her cheek. Her eyes closed and she shivered at his touch. Her skin was soft and silky beneath his fingers. “I’d do anything for you.” And he meant it. He glanced outside at the dark night. “It’s getting late,” he said regretfully. “I’d better leave and you should try and get some sleep.”
12
Grace couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept straight through the night without dreaming of the accident.
