by Ciana Stone
With that, she got into her truck and pulled away. As she looked into her side mirror, she saw Beau standing there watching. It took everything she had not to stop, get out, and run to him.
How in the world was she going to fight these feelings? Even as she asked herself that, a little voice inside asked why do you even want to?
That little voice made a good point.
Chapter Eleven
Grace peeled off her garden gloves, banged them together a couple of times to get the loose debris off, and then shoved them into the oversize apron covering the front of her body.
The apothecary shop was closed on Wednesday. That was Ida’s day to sleep in, go to lunch, and then play canasta with her friends all afternoon until time to eat when they would have the potluck dinner of all the dishes everyone had made and drink a bit too much wine.
With the children at school and the shop closed, Grace was at loose ends so she decided she would do some work in the greenhouse. One smell of the fertile soil, the myriad plants, and fragrant blossoms and she was transported back in time to her childhood.
Both of her parents had shown endless patience, teaching their inquisitive child about all the plants, their properties, and how they could be used to help people heal or just feel better.
It all came rushing back to her as she wandered through the greenhouse, identifying the plants. This was what she needed. Something to put her energy into so she could stop obsessing about Beau. About the Kiss and about what he’d done for Theo.
Damn.
She had not been able to sleep for thinking about him. It was crazy. She was a grown woman with two children. It wasn’t like she’d never been kissed before. Yet that’s how she felt. But it was more than the kiss. It was what he’d done for her child.
Why couldn’t Tad have been that way? And why was Beau so kind and giving? Why did his acts of kindness touch her heart so deeply? Did she still have that much feeling for him, or was he just something or someone to latch hold of to keep her from feeling the sting of betrayal? She’d admit it had done a fair amount of damage to her ego to find out Tad was having an affair with Amy. Not that Amy wasn’t attractive, but no more so than Grace.
Or so Grace had thought. Apparently, she’d been wrong. Maybe Tad saw Amy as prettier, sexier, more fun or better in bed. Whatever, he definitely saw her as more desirable than Grace and had destroyed their marriage for it.
Which left Grace where? Ready to latch onto any man who paid her attention to her to salve her wounded ego? Was she really that shallow?
Thankfully, working in the greenhouse diverted her attention. Now, three hours had passed. She was a bit dirty, a little hungry and a lot satisfied at how much tidier the greenhouse was, and how much she’d gotten accomplished.
She was a bit excited about taking some of the cuttings to her dad’s shop and starting a new batch of oil. Grace hadn’t done that in a long time and hoped she still remembered how. She needed to ask her mother about the steam distiller at the shop.
In fact, Ida and the girls should be home anytime from lunch. Grace headed for the house to get cleaned up before they arrived.
She was standing in the kitchen, pouring a glass of iced tea to go with her sandwich, when someone knocked on the front door. Thinking her mother had forgotten her key, Grace gave no thought to her appearance. Scrubbed faced, wet-haired, and dressed in old gym shorts that had seen better days and an even older t-shirt, she ran to the door.
“Mama, I swear you’d forget— “Her words quickly stopped when she got a look at the handsome man standing on the porch.
“Oh, my God, no. John Luke?” She was shocked. “What in the world? Come on in.”
John Luke stepped inside, gave her a hug that lifted her off her feet, and grinned at her. “You’re as pretty now as you were when you were dating Beau. Damn, I had such a crush on you back then.”
“And you’re still the flirt you always were, just a whole lot bigger. And hotter. Jeez, John Luke, life’s been good enough to you for three people. So what brings you to my mama’s house?”
“You.”
“Me?” She gestured to him. “Come on. I just fixed a sandwich and a glass of tea. Can I fix you one?”
“Sandwich no. Tea, yes, thanks.”
“Okay, take a load off.” She got busy putting ice in a glass and pouring his tea, then carried it and hers to the table. “Oh shoot.” She backtracked to the counter to get her sandwich and then took a seat.
“All righty. Sure you don’t want something to eat?”
“Already had lunch, thanks, but don’t let me stop you.”
“When did I ever let anyone get in between me and food?”
John Luke laughed. “Well, there’s the truth if I ever heard it. Not that you’d know it to look at you.”
She took a bite of the sandwich and chewed it down enough she could speak. “So you came to see me? About what?”
“Actually, about your father.”
“My dad?”
“Well, a formula of his. I think he may have made up a whatever you call it way back when I was a kid. My mother gave it to me for hay fever. I think my son takes it, too. Oh, did you know I have a son? Michael.”
He pulled out his phone and accessed his photos, then handed it to Grace. She flipped through the images. “Oh, my. The apple didn’t fall from the tree, did it? He’s definitely a Legacy. Good-looking and those eyes, Lord have mercy, those eyes. You do know you’re gonna have girls crawling all over that boy if they don’t already.”
“We’ll see. For now, I’m happy he’s enjoying being a kid and learning to rope and play ball.”
“Do you and your family live here in Legacy?”
“No. I mean I do now, with my fiancée, Ily. But my ex-wife and son live in Houston.”
“And you live here? What kind of work are you doing?”
John Luke nodded and took a drink of tea. “I got hired by the Department of Justice before I graduated law school and spent almost sixteen years as an Agent for the FBI. When I quit, I moved back here.”
“Why did you quit? If I can ask.”
“I wanted to be closer to Michael.”
Grace pushed the half-eaten sandwich aside and put her arms on the table. “Why not just transfer to a field office in Houston?”
“It’s complicated.”
She got the message. He didn’t want to talk about it. “Okay, so back to this tincture you think my dad made. Do you remember when you started taking it? I know he has records and formulas, but I don’t know how he filed or categorized them so maybe having a year will help.”
“Oh, well—heck I don’t really know.”
“That’s okay. I’m going over to the shop in a little while and will look around.”
“Thanks, Grace. If you find anything—“
“I’ll give you a call.” She got up to fetch her phone. “What’s your number?”
They finished exchanging numbers, and she walked him to the door. John Luke pulled her into a hug. “It’s really good to see you. Maybe you could come over and meet Ily? Have dinner with us?”
“I’d like that. Talk to Ily and let me know.”
“I will.” He hugged her again and before he let her go another voice rang out.
“Well, good Lord and a quarter, Ida. She ain’t been separated five minutes and is already carrying on with another man?”
Grace would have torn away from John Luke at the words. She recognized the voice. Mrs. Irene Dodd. She tried to move away, but John Luke’s arms tightened around her. “No. We’re not doing a damn thing wrong, and we won’t give her the satisfaction of acting like we are.”
He held onto her a moment longer, then loosened his hold and kissed her on the cheek before pushing the screen open and stepping out into the gaggle of women on the porch. “Morning, ladies. Mrs. Ida.” He leaned down to kiss Ida on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
Grace mentally applauded and cheered and could tell from her mama’s expre
ssion that Ida was just as grateful to John Luke. Ida grinned and headed inside. “Come on in, girls. I’m feeling lucky today.”
With no reason or desire to hang around, Grace headed upstairs to get changed. She didn’t have a lot of time before school let out and wanted to get started on some new oils and check on that information for John Luke.
And to hell with Irene Dodd or anyone else who wanted to take cheap shots at her. She was tired of being sweet and meek and getting walked on. She was sick of being the Grace she had become when she was with Tad.
She wasn’t with Tad anymore, and she wasn’t going to be that person anymore. The woman she once was had the courage to face whatever came at her and meet life head on.
On impulse, she placed a call to Mysti. “Hey, Mysti, is this a bad time? Oh good, well, I won’t take up much of your time. I wanted to ask if you knew of any good attorneys here in Legacy. Divorce attorneys. Oh? Great! Yeah, just text me the information. Thanks a ton. Talk to you soon.”
Grace smiled as she put the phone on her dresser and looked into the mirror. Yes, it was time. She was going to be Grace Summerfield again. Starting right now.
Chapter Twelve
Beau had just stepped out onto the sidewalk from his office building when he saw Grace get out of a red pickup truck parked half a block down. He debated whether to get in his car and leave or speak to her.
Speaking to her won. He walked down the sidewalk and reached the front of her truck as she was lowering the tailgate. “Need a hand?”
She looked up, saw him, and smiled. “Two would be better.”
“Then it’s your lucky day.” He hurried to lift the bigger of the two boxes from the bed of the truck and waited for her to get the second box.
Just then a voice came from the direction of the sidewalk. “Well, my my, looky what we have here.”
Beau looked toward the front of the truck. “Mrs. Dodd, how are you?”
“Just fine, Mr. Legacy. And I see you’re not letting any grass grow under your feet, Miss. Grace. Two Legacy men in one day. It must be a record.”
“Yeah, that’s me, Mrs. Irene, a real record setter.”
“Well, if I were you, Mr. Legacy, I’d think—“
“But you’re not.” Beau interrupted in a voice that had lost all its friendliness. “So, why don’t you mosey on along?”
Irene Dodd literally huffed and stomped away.
“Seems like she’s determined to make me into the town ho,” Grace said.
“Ignore her. She’s just a mean-spirited old biddy with too much time on her hands. What’re you doing with all this?” He referred to what looked like a bunch of clumps of plants with flowers that seemed a bit dry and crispy but were rather aromatic.
Grace’s smile told him she appreciated him changing the subject and redirecting her attention. “I thought I’d refamiliarize myself with my dad’s distiller and try to make a batch of oil.”
“What kind?”
“What does your nose tell you?”
“It smells good, but I don’t know much about plants and flowers so I couldn’t tell you what it is.”
“Lavender.” She set down her box to fish her keys from her shoulder bag and unlock the shop.
“The stuff old women wear?”
Grace laughed. “On behalf of older women everywhere, shame on you. First, real lavender smells delicious and second, that’s lilac water, and I personally don’t know any women who wear that.”
“I stand corrected.” He paused after following her inside. “You want me to close the door?”
“Yes, please.”
Grace continued through the shop to the back room. Beau had been in Mr. Summerfield’s private area once when he was a teenager and found it just as fascinating today as he did back then.
“Just put that box over there on that counter.” Grace indicated a long counter that ran almost the length of a wall and had cabinets beneath it.
She set her box down on a countertop that held a deep double sink and some equipment he could not identify, and then turned to face him. “Like Mrs. Irene said, two Legacys in one day. What are the odds?”
“Pardon?”
“Your brother stopped by my mom’s earlier.”
“Which brother?”
Grace chuckled. “John Luke.”
“Really? What did he want?”
“He wanted me to check my dad’s records for a tincture he might have made for John Luke when he was a kid to help with allergies.”
Beau felt his posture stiffen at her words. He wished John Luke had not gone to her for that, even though he understood. Ily was trying her best to come up with an antidote for the poison that was making the Were population sick. She’d made progress and at one point thought she’d succeeded.
But the formula didn’t cure. It helped with symptoms, but that was all. Despite her and others’ best efforts, they were running into a wall. One thing that had been discovered was that the base needed for the cure was the mystery ingredient in his mother’s so-called allergy tincture.
The plant, a native to Ily’s world, had apparently been brought here and was prolific in swampy areas, such as the region where Beau’s maternal grandmother lived.
They’d secured samples and even plants, but no matter what they tried, they could not replicate the same chemical composition. Everyone was about at their wit's end. Ily had come up with the idea of trying to secure the original formula of the tincture the Legacy children were given to see if something in the original process made a difference.
Beau supported their efforts, but would have preferred not to bring Grace into it. If anyone could point Ily in the right direction, it was Ida. Not Grace.
Then there was the matter of the cloaking spell. Beau still couldn’t quite get on board with that. He might be able to take on the shape of an animal, but casting a spell that would cloak an entire town from being noticed by the Umbra? That was a bit far-fetched for him.
“Well, I’m sure you have other things to do and where would you even start to look? Unless maybe your mother might know.”
“She might. I’ll have to ask her. And I told John Luke I would look through Dad’s journals and books and see if I can find anything. I don’t mind.”
“That’s nice of you, Grace.”
She passed it off with a wave of her hand. “No biggie. But hey, John Luke grew up to be quite the hunk, huh?”
Beau gritted his teeth, trying not to feel a stab of jealousy. “Well, he’s not much my type, but…”
Grace chuckled and motioned him over to where she stood. “You have to go, or you wanna help?”
“I’m free, and I don’t have a clue how to do any of this stuff.”
“Well, you’re a smart guy.” She smiled up at him. “I’ll teach you.”
“Okay, sure.”
She pointed to an odd contraption on the counter. “This is a distiller. It’s how we get the oils from the plants.”
“Looks like some kind of Steampunk slash sci-fi, mad scientist thing.”
“Nothing so glamorous. Okay, let’s see…” She opened a cabinet door beneath the counter. “Ah ha!”
She took the sealed gallon of water from the cabinet, opened it, and set it on the counter. “Would you get that box for me?”
“The ones with the flowers?”
“Yep.”
Beau fetched the box.
“Thanks.” Grace gave him a smile, then added, “Okay, before we start, remember this is a huge secret so if you tell I’ll have to kill you.”
“Oh, that top secret?”
“Most definitely. We don’t want people knowing how complicated this is.”
She opened the top of the big round metal container. “This is the still. Now, first let’s put in some water.” She put half of the gallon of water into the still. “Now the flowers. Hand me one of the bundles. But handle it gently.”
She looked in a drawer and found a pair of scissors. Beau handed her a wad of flowers he
ld together by a string around their stems. Grace cut the string and put the bundle into the still.
“Stems and all?” Beau asked.
“Yes. Most essential oils are held in the oil glands, veins, and hair of the plant and those are quite fragile, so if you break them, you’ll get less oil from the plants. Here, switch with me.”
They exchanged places, and she snipped twine and handed him the flower bunches, which he placed into the still. “I think it’s full.” He held onto the last bunch she’d just placed in his hand.
“You’re right.” She worked on the placement of the flowers a bit, added more water, and then closed the still.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Now we start the heat and wait.”
“That’s it? That’s the big secret.”
Grace laughed. “Yep, the secret is that it’s easy. What’s hard is knowing what the different plants are good for and how to use them.”
“Like making tinctures? Like the one my mother had made? Which is what exactly?”
“It’s just a liquid extract that’s made from herbs or plants you take orally.”
“And you make them like what we’re doing now?”
“Not usually. From what I remember, those are made by extracting in alcohol or sometimes apple-cider vinegar.
“Did your dad teach you to do that?”
“Yes.”
Beau studied her for a moment. “It’s all coming back to you, isn’t it? The things he and your mother taught you? I remember, you know. I mean, we’ve pretty much known one another our whole lives and I remember you being here after school almost every day since we were in kindergarten. Every time I’d come into town with one of my parents, you’d be sitting outside on that bench in front of the shop, doing your homework, reading, or just watching people go by.”
He could tell from her expression she was surprised. “Have you forgotten? Or did you not want to remember?”
This time her expression was different. She looked away and then actually turned away, checking the pressure dial on the diffuser. “I remember.” Her voice was so soft he could just make out the words.
