by Joanna Wayne
Pierce hoped to meet with the sheriff today and get a few questions answered. After that, he’d have a better handle on where to go next with his own investigation.
Even more urgent, he needed to spend quality time with Jaci, horseback riding for certain. Four-wheeling over to Winding Creek would probably be fun for her, too. Of course, Jaci might only go with him if Grace came along.
Exploring the ranch with Grace. A flash of desire struck hard. He stifled a curse. The unwanted sensual stirrings were clearly not going down easy.
He picked up his laptop on the way back to bed. In minutes he’d pulled up countless links to people named Grace Addison.
A florist in Alabama. A songwriter in Wyoming. A web designer in California. A housewife blogger in New Mexico. An architect in Kansas. A few possibilities even in the Houston area, where she claimed she’d been working.
None of the candidates resembled his Grace in any way except gender. If Grace Addison was her real name, she’d done an excellent job of avoiding social media.
This was getting him nowhere fast. Pierce went in another direction. He looked up the contact information for Andy Malone, a former SEAL buddy who was currently a supervisor with the FBI and working in Florida.
It was too early to call even though Andy was on East Coast time. Pierce settled for a text asking Andy to give Pierce a call when he had a minute. In the meantime, Pierce needed more to go on if Malone was to be much help.
It struck him as he shut down the computer that kiss-and-call-the-FBI might be a much more serious offense in Grace’s mind than kiss-and-tell.
* * *
GRACE STAYED IN the guest room until she no longer heard Pierce’s deep voice wafting down the hall from the kitchen. The last thing she wanted to do this morning was face him across the breakfast table.
What could she possibly say to a stranger whose impromptu kiss had sent her over the moon?
“Pass the bacon” didn’t seem to cover it.
“Your kiss was the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in years, but getting involved with me is deadly.”
Or perhaps “Everything you think you know about me is a lie”?
That would send most men running fast enough, but she couldn’t count on that with Pierce. He was a medal-holding member of the navy SEALs, or at least he had been until recently. He’d be more likely to rush to her rescue than to run for the hills.
The amazing thing about all of this was that in spite of the ugly wig, unflattering eyeglasses and seeing her coated in mud, he’d actually wanted to kiss her.
He was right about one thing. The wig should go, at least for now. When she left the ranch, she’d dye her hair, but for now a haircut would have to do, hopefully one that would make her look significantly different from the hair-in-a-bun look she’d been wearing when her picture was snapped back in Tennessee.
Grace rummaged through the drawers of the dresser until she located a pair of shears that looked sharp enough to do the trick.
She stared into the big round mirror over the dresser. In her mind, she looked nothing like the eighteen-year-old student whose picture had been splashed all over the media six years ago.
The six years since then had hardened all her angles, stolen her innocence, cracked away at her youth.
Pulling a bouquet of hair strands between her fingers, she made the first cut. Dark brown hairs feathered to the top of the dresser and onto the floor, a few sticking to the front of her blue pullover sweater.
She had just made the third cut when someone tapped on her door. She was absolutely not ready to face Pierce like this. Fortunately, it was Jaci who burst in without waiting for an invitation.
“Good morning, Jaci.”
“How come you slept so late?” Jaci asked.
“I’ve been awake a long time.”
“You didn’t get any pancakes.”
“I wasn’t hungry, so I read for a bit and then took a shower and got dressed.”
Jaci climbed onto Grace’s bed and let her legs dangle over the side. “Your hair looks funny.”
Nothing like the honesty of a precocious five-year-old. “Hopefully, it will look better when I finish giving myself a haircut.”
“I cut my hair once. Mommy made me go to time-out.”
“I hope Esther doesn’t do that to me.”
Jaci giggled. “Grown-ups don’t go to time-out.”
“Whew. That’s good to know.”
“My mommy has blond hair.”
“I’m sure she’s very pretty.”
“She is. She’s not married to Daddy anymore.”
“But I’m sure they’ll both always love you.”
“Mommy says Daddy just loves going to war.”
“He’s here with you now.”
“We’re on an adventure.”
“Riding Dreamer yesterday looked like a very exciting adventure.”
“I’m riding her again today. Daddy promised. Will you go with us?”
Not if she could help it. “We’ll see, but you don’t really need me there. Your daddy is the one who knows all about horses.”
“You could learn.”
“Let’s just let you learn first.”
“Okay. You can watch. Daddy’s checking on cows right now, but when he gets back, we’re going on another adventure.”
“How exciting. I’m sure the two of you will have a great time.”
“Not just two of us. All four of us.” She held up four fingers to make her point. “You, Grandma Esther, Daddy and me.”
“Are we all going to watch you ride Dreamer?”
“No. We’re going for a ride in Daddy’s truck.”
“And where are we going on this great adventure?”
“Daddy has an appointment and we’re going to get ice cream.”
Grace had not agreed to field trips. Any kind of adventure with Pierce was risky. She’d avoided this kind of sensual temptation for years without problems.
But Pierce was different from anyone else she’d ever met. There was no way she could spend time around him and not fall even deeper under his spell.
* * *
GRACE MIGHT HAVE held her ground with Pierce, but with Esther and Jaci joining in the persuasion tactics, she didn’t stand a chance. So just after the lunch dishes were cleared away, they all went trucking into the town of Winding Creek, looking far too much like the family they weren’t.
Like the family she could never have no matter how badly she longed for one. Pierce stopped at a red light and then turned onto Main Street.
“So what do you think of our thriving metropolis?” Esther asked.
Grace looked down the narrow street that stretched in front of them. She gasped in amazement. “I feel like I’ve been dropped into the set of an old Western movie. The only thing missing is a gunfight.”
“Thankfully the cops nowadays wouldn’t put up with that,” Esther said.
“But back in the day, there were plenty of bar fights and gunslingers around,” Pierce assured her. “Winding Creek has quite an illustrious history if the town’s old-timers can be believed.”
“True or not, it looks the part.” Always a lover of American history, Grace was mesmerized by this living preservation of the Old West. And to think she’d almost missed this the way she’d missed so much in her life. The price of staying alive.
Both sides of the narrow street were lined with one-and two-story weathered structures, many of the roofs made from uneven wooden shakes. A few of the storefronts appeared to have been reinforced with old brick. Huge pots of poinsettias or holiday greenery brightened the sidewalk.
Antique streetlights looked as if they should hold a candle instead of electric bulbs. Each one was decorated with fake greenery and a big
silver star that was no doubt lit when the streetlights came on.
Every few yards there was a red painted bench, many occupied with an older man or two, likely waiting on their wives to finish shopping.
Jaci pressed her nose against the side window. “Where’s the ice cream shop, Grandma? Daddy promised I could have a chocolate cone.”
“In the next block. Blue Bell, made right here in Texas.”
“And always larruping good,” Pierce said.
“What’s ‘larruping good’?”
“That’s how cowgirls say ‘doggone fine’ in Texas.”
“Larruping.” Jaci tried the word on for size. The syllables became twisted on her tongue, but she looked quite pleased with her new word.
Pierce was definitely making progress with winning her over, though Jaci had refused to let him brush her hair before they left the house and insisted Grace do it. Grace suspected he was glad to get out of that.
But Jaci had also turned down his offer to go with him to put out some fresh hay and feed for the cattle even though he’d made it sound like fun. That had clearly disappointed him.
“There’s a new bakery in town, too,” Esther said. “Best sweets you ever put in your mouth, I swear. And almost too pretty to eat. Red velvet cupcakes that melt in your mouth. Lemon tarts. And kinds of cookies folks around Winding Creek have never even heard of.”
“Larruping cookies,” Jaci said and then giggled at her own cleverness.
“You got it, cowgirl,” Pierce said.
“Can we get cookies, too?” Jaci asked.
“I think we can swing that, since you almost cleaned your plate at lunch. But then I’ve never known anyone who couldn’t eat a couple of pieces of Esther’s fried chicken.”
“You ate more than two.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
Jaci giggled again. “Mommy would have said you’d get fat.”
“Mommy might have been right. I’ll go easy on the ice cream.”
Grace found it amazing that Jaci was so well adjusted that her parents’ split hadn’t torn her apart. Of course, it must help that there was no open bitterness or animosity about the divorce, at least not on Pierce’s part.
“See that sprawling two-story structure on the corner,” Esther said. “That was the Cowman’s Saloon back when the town was first settled. There are some wild tales about what happened in that place in the old days.”
“I bet. What is it now?”
“Henry Logan’s hardware store is on the first floor. He’s a fixture in town, been in that one spot for as long as I can remember. Charges too much for his merchandise, though. I priced a porch swing last week that he had on display. The wood was beautiful but not worth the price he had on it.”
“What happened to your porch swing?” Pierce asked.
“Blew off in a storm, hit a tree and busted into a hundred pieces. It was my fault. I’d taken it off the chains to repaint it.”
“That must have been some storm to pick up a porch swing.”
“Like a small tornado,” she said. “’Bout tore the roof off the barn, but luckily didn’t do any damage to the house. Praise the Lord for that. And look at that store on your left.” Esther jumped to a new topic with hardly a breath in between. She clearly liked showing off the town to her guests.
“Creighton’s Jewelry,” Pierce said. “I remember that. I never shopped there, but I remember the name.”
“Adler Creighton’s famous now. Jake Dalton was in the other day to buy a Christmas present for his new wife, the former Carolina Lambert. I heard that from Adler himself.”
“Do you know everyone in town?” Grace asked.
“Pretty much everybody knows everyone inside the Winding Creek town limits, at least to speak to on the street. You keep running into the same people at church events, holiday celebrations and the Cattlemen’s Association.”
“Don’t forget high school football games,” Pierce reminded her. “You know how Texas is about its Friday night lights.”
“What is the population of Winding Creek?” Grace asked.
“Twenty-two hundred at last count, but that probably includes a dog or two.”
“It’s hard to believe that few people can support all these shops,” Grace said, checking out the windows of a gift shop with elaborate displays.
“That twenty-two hundred number doesn’t include all the ranches scattered around the area outside the town limits nor the summer folks who have houses and cabins along Winding Creek.”
“Nor all the tourists that drive out from San Antonio and Austin on nice weekends to go antiques shopping or just to escape the fast lane.” Pierce pulled into an angled parking spot in front of a Western shop. He helped Esther and her cane out of the passenger side of the front seat. Grace and Jaci piled out of the back and stepped onto the curb.
An older model black compact car that was passing behind them slowed down, likely looking for a parking place. Esther put up a hand to wave. The driver looked away without waving back.
“Nosy old coot,” Esther said. “Slow down to gawk and not even wave back.”
“Who was that?” Pierce asked.
“I didn’t get a good look at him, and I didn’t recognize the car. You can bet he’s not from around here. It’s just the tourists who don’t wave.”
The car turned at the next corner.
“First stop, the Western shop,” Pierce announced.
“Are we gonna buy more jeans?” Jaci asked.
“Not today. I need a good denim work jacket and some flannel shirts.”
“While you get that, I’m going next door to get Jaci a pair of Christmas pajamas they had displayed in the window last week,” Esther said. “I’ll need you to come with me, Jaci, so we can make sure they fit.”
“I’ll be in the ladies’ jeans department,” Grace said.
She got sidelined by the boots before she made it to the jeans. She owned practical boots made for warmth and walking in the snow. The pair of boots that caught her eye and stopped her in her tracks was not practical.
They were stunning. Red with a black embroidered design running down the full length of them. She picked one up. The leather was incredibly soft.
A salesclerk walked up beside her. “Would you like to try them on?”
“How much are they?”
“Just 295 dollars. They’re a really good buy at that price.”
But not for a woman who would be leaving the ranch any day now.
“Just try them on,” the salesclerk encouraged. “It doesn’t cost to do that. What size do you wear?”
“A six.”
“Good, I think I have those in a six. I’ll be right back.”
Trying them on was a terrible idea. The minute Grace slipped her feet in them, she knew she wouldn’t be taking them off. A crazy waste of money, but she was doing a lot of crazy things since arriving in Texas.
Pierce showed up while she was paying for them.
“Wow. I love those. Red. You’ll even excite the bulls.”
A terrifying thought. “They wouldn’t chase me, would they?”
“I was only kidding. Actually, bulls and other cattle are color-blind. It’s the waving cape that gets their attention in a bullfight.”
“Good to know. I’ll be careful where I wave a cape.”
Esther and Jaci were waiting when they walked outside. Both got excited over the boots. That felt good. The boots were her first splurge in years.
Jaci hopped and skipped ahead, eager to get to the ice cream store, but skidded to a stop before she made it. She pressed her nose to the window of the florist shop, hypnotized by the beautifully decorated Christmas tree.
At least seven feet tall. Silver and jeweled ornaments and shiny silver rib
bons cascading from the top to the floor. Hundreds of tiny white lights sparkling through the green branches.
“That’s the mostest prettiest tree I ever saw,” Jaci announced.
“It is beautiful,” Grace agreed.
“Is it for sale?” Jaci asked.
“I reckon it is,” Esther said as she and Pierce joined them. “Everything’s for sale if you have enough money, but we don’t need to buy a tree. We have acres of them. Your daddy and his brothers picked out the most perfect tree I ever laid my eyes on the Christmas they lived on the Double K.”
“I remember that tree,” Pierce said. “We could barely haul it home in the back of the pickup truck. Charlie said it was never going to fit in the house.”
“Did it fit?” Jaci asked.
“After we cut about a foot off.”
“And you boys decorated it with wooden angels you made out in Charlie’s workshop,” Esther added.
“That’s right. Tucker insisted on painting the wings on his angels blue. Wonder what ever happened to those.”
“I still have them, hang them on the tree every year, even the one your dog chewed the head off of.”
“Where’s your dog now?” Jaci asked excitedly.
“He died years ago, but don’t worry. He lived a nice long life.”
“Can we get a dog?”
“One thing at a time,” Pierce said. “First we should get a Christmas tree, that is if you’ll help me pick out the right one.”
“I want a tall one that reaches to the top of your hat,” Jaci said.
“I know just the spot in the family room for it,” Esther said. “It’s where Charlie put our tree every year.”
Yesterday Esther had considered avoiding Christmas. Apparently, having Pierce and Jaci around had changed her mind. Now she sounded almost as excited as Jaci. Grace suspected this made her feel she was honoring Charlie as well as making Jaci happy.
“I have a lot of ornaments,” Esther added, “but if we had some of those silver teardrop-shaped ones on that tree in the window, I think it would be our most beautiful Christmas tree ever.”
New traditions added to the old. A tree with handmade angels and memories. A family Christmas.
