by Joanna Wayne
“It’s hard to lose someone you love.”
“You sound like you’ve been there.”
“My grandfather,” she said.
“Want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want that terrifying brand of torment to shadow this special place.
Still holding tightly to her hand, Pierce led her to a huge rock that overlooked the waterfall. He leaned against the rough edges of the stone and then wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her against his chest.
The moment became pure magic. The beauty, the protective sensation of his arms holding her tight, so close she could feel his warm breath on her neck.
For once, she let herself melt into the moment. No past. No future. Just the here and now, a second in time that she’d hold on to forever.
“Do you trust me, Grace?”
Chapter Ten
Did she trust Pierce Lawrence? It was a reasonable question. Crazily, she did trust him, but that didn’t change anything.
She pulled away from him, desperate to keep a clear head. “I don’t really know you well enough to give you a definitive answer, but I have no reason not to trust you at this point.”
“Then level with me. Tell me what you’re running from.”
She’d feared this was coming but wasn’t ready for it.
“I’m not running from anything.”
“What about the boyfriend?”
She struggled to remember what she’d even said in that fabrication. “Things are fine. We both apologized and now we’re moving on.”
“You told Sheriff Cavazos today that you’d lost your job in Houston and that’s why you’re moving on.”
“I didn’t see any reason to share personal information with him when it had nothing to do with the shooting.”
“If you’re not running from anyone, why the disguise when you got here just two days ago?”
“I was experimenting with a new me and I’m sick and tired of bad relationships. I thought if I looked bad enough, no one would hit on me.”
“You’d have to grow warts all over your face to keep that from happening.”
“I’m not running away from anything,” she insisted. “You’re misreading me, Pierce. You don’t really know me that well.”
“I know your quick action likely saved my daughter’s life today.”
“I can’t really take credit for that. It was all instinct.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Grace. I’m not trying to take over your life and I’m definitely not trying to cause trouble for you. I just want to help. I can’t do that unless you’re honest with me.”
“I am being honest with you.”
She bit her bottom lip, hating the lies, actually aching to spill the whole truth to Pierce. He would hold her, assure her he could protect her from anything. He’d mean every word of it.
But no one won against Tom Lacoste and Grace could not pull Pierce into that. He had a precious daughter who needed him alive. And the horrifying truth was that even Jaci might not be safe if Tom thought killing Pierce’s child would hurt Grace.
This was her fight. She’d made the mistakes that had led to the nightmare. She’d made the choice that had led to her lonesome, loveless existence. She would pay the price.
Pierce caught her hand and pulled her back to face him. His gaze captured hers, intense, hypnotic.
“I’m here if you need me, Grace.”
“How can you say that when you think I’m running away from something?”
“Because I don’t believe you could ever do anything bad enough to deserve the fear you’re living with.”
“Why does any of this matter to you when it’s doubtful we’ll ever see each other again after this week?”
“It’s the right thing to do. And I care. I like your warmth. I like the challenge of getting to know you. And I damn sure like the way you kiss.”
Tears filled her eyes. Damn him. How could she have let him get that close? How could she let him tear down her resistance like that?
His lips met hers, gentle for a second and then ravaging. The passion swelled until it consumed Grace. Her hands slipped beneath Pierce’s denim jacket and splayed across his back. She’d love to rip off that shirt and run her fingers across his bare back, trailing the sinewy muscles through the soft cotton of his shirt.
He pulled her ever tighter, lifted her and let her slide down the hard length of his need.
Heart pounding and gasping for breath, Grace finally managed to force herself back to sanity. She pushed away, but even that didn’t cool the primal need that burned inside her.
“We should get back,” she whispered.
“I hope you know what you’re doing to me,” he said, his voice husky with desire or perhaps frustration.
She didn’t know what she was doing to him, but she was all too aware of what he was doing to her. That was wonderful and scary enough.
She walked back to the truck and he followed. Her emotions felt raw and exposed, as if he’d reached deep inside her and touched places that hadn’t been touched before.
If his kiss affected her like that...what would making love with him do? Did she dare find out?
They talked very little on the short ride back to the house. When they drove up to the house, Jaci ran out the door and down the porch steps to meet them.
“We found the angels. And we found a manger and a baby Jesus. And guess what? Grandma has a dancing cowboy Santa that sings ‘Frosty the Snowman.’”
“Did you two rob the Christmas store?”
“No. That’s silly, Daddy. It was in Grandma’s attic all the time. Can we go get the Christmas tree? Please.”
“How about first thing in the morning? It’s almost night and we can’t find a good tree in the dark.” Pierce reached down, picked up Jaci and swung her to his shoulders. “What is all this green stuff on the front porch?”
“It’s garley. You have to hang it on the porch and put lights in it.”
“Ah, garlands,” Pierce said, “for decoration. But where did they come from?”
“We bought it on the way home. It smells like a Christmas tree.”
“It smells wonderful,” Grace agreed.
Mouthwatering odors from the kitchen, a three-foot-high maze of colorful plastic containers and a dancing Santa greeted them as they walked inside the house. Esther joined them from the kitchen, her limp barely noticeable. All the excitement no doubt overshadowed the pain. Having Pierce and Jaci around was exactly what she’d needed.
But who wouldn’t want them around?
“Don’t tell me you got up in the attic on that bad ankle and hauled all of these boxes down,” Pierce exclaimed.
“Land sakes, Pierce. You know I’ve got better sense than that. I had Buck do that. This is all the Christmas decorations I’ve collected over the past fifty-plus years.”
“You think we need that many decorations?” he asked.
“We don’t have to use them all. We’ve just got them handy in case we do. Right, Jaci?”
“Right,” Jaci agreed. She stepped into an empty box and then jumped out.
Grace’s knees literally grew weak.
A welcoming house. A happy family. Supper on the stove. Love and laughter.
Just as she’d envisioned the first time she’d seen the house. Only in this case, reality topped her fantasy. And here she was right in the middle of it all. She didn’t dare pinch herself, knowing it had to be a dream.
A very temporary dream.
* * *
PIERCE BUCKLED CHARLIE’S old leather tool belt around his waist and then rescued the aluminum extension ladder from behind a case of soft drinks and between a shovel and an old tin washtub.
The sun was diving toward the horizon, but he figured he had about forty-five minutes before it was full-fledged dark, just time enough to string the outdoor Christmas lights and garlands across the porch pillars and railings.
It would be one less thing he had to do tomorrow when he really wanted to start an assessment of the ranch’s needs and assets. Besides, he needed a little physical exertion if he was going to keep eating Esther’s Southern soul cooking.
Tonight it had been homemade beef and vegetable soup with corn bread. Vegetables from last summer’s garden, the beef from the Double K Ranch. Healthy except that Pierce had slathered two hunks of corn bread in butter.
And he’d had to taste the cookies Jaci and Esther had baked this afternoon while he and Grace had been exploring the gorge at Lonesome Branch. More aptly, he’d been exploring his exploding attraction to the mysterious Grace Addison while she refused to be honest with him.
Here he was, doing it again, falling hard and at lightning speed for a woman he didn’t understand. But this was far different than it had been when he fell for Leslie. Grace was different. He was different.
Back then, he’d just completed his SEAL training and was taking a walk on a San Diego beach when he literally ran into Leslie. He’d been cocky, confident and ready to party. She’d filled out a bikini to perfection, and when she’d asked him to rub sunscreen on her bare shoulders, he’d jumped at the invitation.
Two days later, they’d been married by a justice of the peace. Two weeks later, he’d left on assignment. Before he saw her again, he’d watched his best friend get blown up from an IED.
When Pierce came home, he was in another place. He tried to be the carefree young man Leslie had fallen in love with. He couldn’t. The relationship never really got off the ground after that.
But then they had Jaci and that made it all worthwhile. He’d come home determined to be a good and loving father. All she had to do was wrap those little arms around him or say the word daddy and he was mush.
But he was still working on earning her trust. Hers and Grace’s. Hopefully, strings of bright-colored lights and a little Christmas spirit would help with both of them.
Pierce scanned the garage for the claw hammer and quickly spotted it hanging from Charlie’s giant pegboard. Fact was everything in the old garage/workshop was the way he remembered it. A full-blown vision of Charlie in his overalls, his guttural laugh spilling over the space, filled Pierce’s mind.
A wave of nostalgia-flavored grief washed over him like a hard summer rain. Easy to understand why Charlie’s death had about driven Esther crazy. There wasn’t another man on the planet with a heart like Charlie’s.
Suicide seemed impossible with a man like him. But murder? That possibility wouldn’t quite jell, either.
Jaci ran into the garage as he attached the claw hammer to the tool belt. His little drama queen spun around like a dancer and then handed him a container. “Grandma Esther said you might need this.”
He lifted the lid. Clips for hanging lights and greenery. “This is exactly what I needed.”
“Can I help hang the lights?”
“Sure. You can be my supervisor.”
“What’s that?”
“The one who tells me how to do it.”
“Okay.” She went skipping out of the garage in front of him.
Jaci played with the garland while Pierce got started on the task at hand. He’d never hung Christmas lights before, but how difficult could it be?
He was halfway finished with the first pillar and feeling good about his success when he accidently knocked the carton of clips off the ladder’s paint shelf.
“Sh... Ships, boats and canoes,” he muttered, trying to cover his four-letter-word slip.
Jaci came running over. “What boat?”
“No boats. It’s just something I say when I make a mess.”
“I’ll help you pick up the clips.”
“That would be dandy.”
“Dandy? You talk funny, Daddy.”
“If you think that’s funny, you should see me dance.” He did a little two-step shuffle and then realized that Grace was at the door watching. He tipped his hat at her and went back to picking up the clips.
His phone vibrated. He slipped it from his back pocket and checked the caller ID. Leslie.
He’d tried to get in touch with her earlier without luck. He’d intended to tell her about the random shooting without Jaci around. He didn’t want her to get Jaci upset, since his daughter was handling the frightening experience so well. Apparently, at age five, Christmas and ice cream took precedence over a mere shooting where no one got hurt.
He took the call before handing it off to Jaci—just in case she was calling with a problem.
“Hello. Christmas Central. How can I help you?”
“Is this Pierce?”
Divorced barely a week and she’d already forgotten his voice. Not that he cared at this point. “It’s me. How are things in Cuba?”
“Interesting. How are things between you and Jaci?”
“Better than expected. We’re having quite the adventure.” He wouldn’t mention the shooting in front of Jaci.
“Are you in Texas?” Leslie asked.
“We are. Got some bad news when we arrived.”
“What was that?”
“Charlie died a few months back, but we’re going to stay on here at the ranch and have Christmas with Esther.”
“Do try to make it feel like Christmas for Jaci, Pierce. It’s important. We’ve always had a tree, not a real one, of course. They’re so messy when those nasty needles get stuck in the carpet.”
“Needles are funny that way.”
“Must you make a joke of everything? Put Jaci on the phone, please.”
“Okay, hold on a second.”
“One more thing.”
“I’m washing behind her ears just like you said.”
“Keep her off the horses. They’re too dangerous.”
“I’m not letting her do anything dangerous. Here’s Jaci.” He handed the phone to his daughter. “It’s your mom.”
Jaci was so excited she jumped up and down, and then she began talking so fast that he doubted Leslie could understand half of what she was saying.
Pierce went back to hanging the lights and garlands but had no trouble hearing Jaci’s end of the conversation. Talk of ice cream cones, baking cookies, dancing Santas and silver slippers for the Christmas tree. The only mention of anything vaguely connected to the shooting was that she had a boo-boo on her elbow and that Esther had put a bandage on it.
Nothing in the chatter Leslie could fault him for until Jaci started talking about her ride on Dreamer. Oh, well. Leslie was in Cuba and he and Jaci were in Texas on an adventure.
There were three things any Texas adventure should include: a Stetson, a pair of genuine cowboy boots and a horse. As his SEAL buddy from New Orleans used to say, everything else was lagniappe.
Grace was lagniappe-plus and probably trouble with a capital T. And he was falling for her much too hard and too fast.
* * *
“GREAT JOB,” GRACE said as she stepped back into the house after checking out Pierce’s handiwork. She walked over and backed up to the roaring fireplace to warm her backside.
“Your nose is red,” Esther said. “Is it that cold out there, already?”
“Cold enough that it didn’t take me long to look at the lights.”
“They’re predicting a chance of frost by morning,” Esther said. “You might want to put off finding that perfect Christmas tree for a day or two.”
“No. Not put it off,” Jaci protested, looking up from a Christmas storybook—another attic find. “We can wear coats. You promised, Daddy.”
“
A cowboy can’t break a promise. If it’s a tree you want, we’re getting a tree. We’ll just have to bundle up like it’s a snow day.”
Another thing to add to the growing list of things Grace admired about Pierce. He kept his word to Jaci.
Grace left the fireplace and settled in the empty recliner. Jaci closed her book and crawled into Grace’s lap. “Let’s go outside and see how pretty the house looks with all the lights on it.”
“I just did that,” Grace reminded her. “You and your dad did a fantastic job with the decorating.”
“He did the work. I just played.”
“You kept him company,” Esther said. “That’s important, too.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Pierce agreed.
“If everyone’s going out to get the tree in the morning, I guess I’ll just have to put on my big red parka and rough it with you,” Esther said. “I’ll make us a big thermos of hot chocolate to keep our insides warm.”
“Sounds like a winner to me,” Pierce said. “I think the coldest I’ve ever been was that night Charlie took my entire football team on a hayride up to Lonesome Branch.”
“I remember that night,” Esther said. “I tried to talk him into postponing that for a warmer night, too. I mean, it’s not like we get that many frigid nights this far south. He wouldn’t hear of it. You guys were celebrating a divisional win if I remember that right.”
“Right. And then we were slaughtered at the following game. But that didn’t take anything away from our celebration. We huddled under blankets for the ride and then got out and roasted hot dogs and marshmallows around a bonfire with our teeth chattering.”
“I can’t believe it was that much fun if it was freezing,” Grace said. “It must have been your first hayride.”
“First hayride we got to take dates.”
“Now the plot thickens.”
“What’s roasted marshmallows?” Jaci asked.
“You stick a marshmallow on a stick with a point on it and then poke it over a fire.”
“And burn it?”
“You don’t have to, but the burned ones taste the best.”
