Forever Grace

by Linda Poitevin

  He glanced over his shoulder at the other adults, then back at her. “Are you sure you and Uncle Sean aren’t getting—”

  “Nicholas!”

  The boy jumped at the sharp tone in his mother’s voice. Without another word, he disappeared out the door.

  Gwyn was next in line for a hug, pressing a piece of paper into Grace’s hand as she ended the embrace.

  “My phone number,” she said. “Call me if you have questions about”—she glanced toward Grace’s bunch—“well, anything. Or if you need to talk or you just want to get together with the kids.”

  “They’d like that,” Grace murmured. “Thank you.”

  Gwyn hesitated, seeming at a loss for more words. Then she hugged her again. “Call me,” she said again.

  Then she and Gareth and their family were gone, and the cottage fell silent, and Grace faced the kids—her kids—and searched for the words to tell them their mother wouldn’t be waking up after all.

  Not ever.

  ………………

  Sean met Grace in the hallway outside the bedrooms as she pulled shut the door to Josh’s room and he did the same to the girls’ door.

  “How is he?” he whispered.

  “Better than I thought he’d be, but that’s probably because he’s trying so hard.” She nodded at Sage and Lilliane’s room. “What about the girls?”

  “Sleeping. Lilly sang Sage to sleep and then nodded off within seconds.” Sean swallowed at the remembered image of older sister comforting younger while he’d looked on, hurting for them but helpless to make things better. He cleared his throat. “And you? How are you holding up?”

  Grace leaned against the wall. “I’m okay, thanks. I don’t think it’s entirely sunk in yet.” She shook her head. “A part of me expected it—I knew she couldn’t survive what Barry did to her—but I still hoped. Still thought she might be one of those miracles you hear about.”

  The helplessness returned, tightening around his chest.

  “I’m so, so sorry, Grace.”

  “Me, too.” Grace sighed, a tremulous whisper of sound. “Thank you for your help, by the way. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “You would have managed the same way you’ve managed all along,” he told her gruffly. “Because that’s what you do.”

  She laughed without humor. “I suppose. But you made it easier, so thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He tipped his head toward the living room. “I made tea. I thought you could use a cup.”

  “Is there whiskey in it?”

  “Will that help?”

  Chocolate eyes filled with pain. Then with tears. Grace’s lips trembled, and she shook her head. “No. No, I don’t suppose it will.”

  “Ah, Grace…” Sean set aside his crutches and reached out. He pulled her into his arms, resting a shoulder against the wall for balance and his chin against her head. Her slender frame shook with sobs. He closed his eyes against the pain in his own heart. And then, because he could do nothing else, he simply held her until the tears ran out.

  She pulled away at last to wipe swollen eyes with her fingertips. “I’ve made you soggy.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sure I’ll dry.” He smoothed back the hair from her forehead. “Why don’t you go wash your face, and I’ll make fresh tea? I suspect it’s gone cold by now.”

  “It’s late. You should go home and get some sleep.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight. I’ve already snitched a pillow and blanket from your bed for the couch.”

  “But—”

  He put a finger across her lips. “I’m staying, Grace.”

  She smiled the tiniest of smiles behind his finger. It still managed to light up his core.

  He dropped his hand again. “I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

  She nodded acceptance and turned toward the bathroom. Then she looked over her shoulder. “Sean?”

  “Yes…?” Just in time, he caught back the all-too-ready my love that wanted to follow.

  Grace’s eyes widened slightly, as if she’d heard the words anyway. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head—a warning?—and then another small smile. “Nothing. Just…thank you.”

  ………………

  Grace took her time in the washroom, splashing cool water onto hot, swollen eyelids and gazing at her dripping reflection in the mirror over the sink. So that was it. Julianne was gone. It was just her and the kids, now. Her and four broken, wounded children. Though she supposed Annabelle would be too young to be greatly affected. And in all likelihood, the girls would recover fairly fast as well. Sage in particular. Josh, however—

  She leaned her hands on the counter, thinking of the guilt she knew her nephew carried over his mother’s beating and now her death. He’d never come out and said as much, but he’d hinted at having wished he’d stood up to his father. Intervened somehow. Grace had seen the self-blame again tonight in the hollowness of Josh’s eyes when she’d tucked him into bed. Ten years old, and he’d seen so much; suffered so much. How would she ever begin to put him back together?

  She turned on the water again, splashed a final handful over her face, and then reached for a hand towel. She’d figure it out. Somehow, because she had no choice, she would figure out what to do. How she would manage. How she would heal this broken family.

  But she would start tomorrow, because tonight…she met her gaze in the mirror and smiled sadly at her reflection. Tonight, she was tired. Tonight, she had lost her sister and her best friend. And tonight—she reached up, switched off the light, and opened the door. Tonight, Sean had made tea for her, and that would be enough.

  She looked in on each of the kids as she made her way to the kitchen. Josh had fallen asleep curled tightly into a fetal position; Sage and Lilliane were spooned together, with Lilliane’s arm around her sister’s waist; and Annabelle slept soundly with both her arms thrown over her head. For the moment, each had found peace, and for that, Grace felt supreme gratitude. She closed the last door softly and then went to join Sean.

  He glanced up at her approach, his mouth curved in a smile but his brow creased in concern. He nodded at the hallway from which she’d just come. “All quiet down there?”

  “They’re out cold,” she replied. Sean had already spread a blanket over the couch and placed a pillow there, so she took the tray from the counter and carried it to the table.

  Sean joined her, easing himself into a chair. He reached for the teapot and poured for both of them. Grace watched, envying the quiet strength emanating from him, wishing she knew how to absorb it for herself. For all of them. Sean slid her cup toward her.

  “Penny for them?” he offered.

  She shook her head. “They’re not worth it. Not tonight. I’m just…”

  “Worn down to nothing?”

  “Yes. That.”

  “I’ll make breakfast for the kids in the morning,” he said. “You can sleep in. It will do you good.”

  “Thank you, but I doubt I’ll sleep much at all, to be honest. And Luc is coming out to check on us tomorrow. I don’t know when he’ll get here, but I should be up for him.”

  “Will he make the arrangements for your sister?”

  Grace nodded, then swallowed. “Yes, but I won’t be going.”

  Sean’s mouth formed a hard line.

  “Barry.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “He was seen at the hospital a couple of times. They think he’s been watching for me. I can’t take the chance, not with the kids.” She stared out the window into the dark beyond, her jaw flexing. “He kills my sister, and then I can’t even go to her funeral because of him. Do you know how wrong that is?”

  “They’ll get him, Grace. They’ll get him, and he’ll pay for what he did. I promise.”

  “Not enough, he won’t. Not for the damage he’s caused.”

  “It’s never enough,” he said. “But you’ll find a way to reconcile yourself
to that and move on.”

  “Will I?” Disbelief sat bitter on her tongue.

  Sean’s hand covered hers. Squeezed. She let his silent compassion wash over her. Through her. For a moment—a heartbeat—the words hold me hovered on her lips. Then she returned the gentle pressure of his hand, pulled away from his grasp and set her cup back on the tray.

  “I’m tired,” she said. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll skip the tea and just turn in.”

  ………………

  Sean remained at the table long after Grace disappeared down the hallway and closed her door. Staring out into the night, he rested an elbow on the table, thumb hooked under his chin and fingers across his mouth. Every fiber of his being ached to go after her. To hold her and comfort her and tell her it would be all right. Except she was right. It wouldn’t be, not even when Barry was caught and put behind bars.

  Because even then, Julianne would still be dead, and those poor kids would still be without their mother, and Grace—Grace would still need to be stronger than anyone should ever have to be.

  Small comfort that reminder would be to her.

  Sean’s fingers curled into a fist over his mouth. Fourteen years as a cop, and he’d never before felt this helpless. Never before had he wanted to toss the law he served to the four winds, track down a suspect, and mete out the brand of justice Barry Walsh really deserved.

  The realization he might be capable of doing just that was a sobering one. So were the reasons behind it. All five of them. Four of whom slept peacefully—for now, at least—and one he suspected would lie as wide awake tonight as he did. Although likely not for the same reasons.

  He sighed and twisted around in his chair so he could reach his crutches, then levered himself upright. Turning off lights as he went, he moved through the kitchen and into the living room, ending at the couch. He settled there, plumping up the pillow he’d brought from Grace’s room. The faint scent of strawberries lifted from it as it had the first night he’d stayed here. His fingers stilled for a second, then smoothed the fabric where her head would have rested. He pictured her alone in bed, lying awake, trying to make sense of a life that had been ripped apart.

  Damn it to hell and back.

  Helpless didn’t even begin to describe the knot in his chest.

  With a sigh, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it on the coffee table. Then he switched off the lamp beside the couch, stretched out, and pulled the blanket over him.

  ………………

  Standing with her back pressed to the bedroom door, Grace listened to the soft breathing of her niece in the playpen nearby, the sounds of Sean settling on the couch in the living room. She hadn’t been able to tell him, but she was glad he’d decided to stay. Just knowing he was near made a difference. It made the world a little less empty…at least for now. Her breath caught in a half sob. She pressed a hand over her mouth. Squeezed her eyes closed against the burn of yet more tears.

  Juli was gone.

  She’d been there a moment ago.

  And now she wasn’t.

  Now she was just…gone.

  Grace slid to the floor. She hugged her knees, her chest aching and lungs on fire with a grief that wanted to wail and scream and gnash its teeth, but couldn’t.

  Couldn’t because she was needed. Relied on. Because someone had to stay strong for Josh and Sage and Lilly and Annabelle, and she was their only remaining someone. All that stood between them and the monster of a father who had killed their mother.

  All they had left.

  Across the room, Annabelle moved in her sleep, took a deep breath, sighed. A single tear escaped Grace. She looked over at her bed, captured in a moonbeam that filtered through the trees outside. With its mound of pillows and flannel-covered duvet, it should have looked inviting, but instead it looked cold. Stark. As empty as the world felt without the one person in it who had always been there for her.

  The endless loop in her brain started again. How would they manage? How would she ever learn to be both mother and father to four damaged children? What if she wasn’t enough? What if—

  Grace pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and groaned. Dear God, could she please—just for a little while—stop thinking? She sucked in a deep breath. Held it. Released it in a quavering sigh. Maybe she should have had that whiskey after all. Maybe she should have had the entire damned bottle, if only to knock herself out for the night.

  But she had been right. It wouldn’t have helped, because nothing would have changed. Juli would still be dead, and Barry would still be hunting them, and the kids would still need her, and she would still be alone and scared and—

  Hold me, her brain whispered.

  She froze. For the first time since the phone call from Luc, her mind stilled. And then, in the midst of the fear and the chaos—and now the grief—that defined her life, a single thought rose above all others. A need.

  The soul-deep ache for the touch of another human being.

  A desire to feel alive and whole and grounded and…

  Sean.

  Of their own accord, her legs propelled her upward. Her hand turned the doorknob. Her feet carried her silently from the room. Down the hall. A full moon shone through the uncurtained windows, bathing the room in cold white light. Bright enough to see Sean look over at her approach. To meet the concern in his gaze.

  “Grace? What’s wrong?”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. Shivered. The temperature had dropped tonight. She should have thought to start a fire in the wood stove. It would be cold in the morning without it.

  Sean sat up, pushing the cover aside. “Grace?”

  She pressed her lips together. Inhaled through flared nostrils. “Don’t judge me,” she said. “Please don’t. Because I know I’m asking a lot, and I know it’s wrong, but I need—I need—”

  “What, sweetheart?”

  Her jaw locked. Her shivers increased.

  I need to be held.

  Sean grabbed his crutches and raised himself up on them. Real worry creased his brow now. “Grace, what’s wrong? What do you need?”

  Her teeth chattered. She shook her head mutely.

  I need not to think.

  Sean crossed the floor to her. Crutches pinned in place under his arms, he lifted his hands to her shoulders. “Damn it, Grace, you’re starting to scare me. Talk to me.”

  I need…

  The thought faded, half-formed, eluding her. She closed her eyes. Dug deep for a fragment of the fortitude that had kept her going all day, and whispered, “Hold me?”

  Sean exhaled in a gust. “Is that all?” he murmured, pulling her into his arms as he had before and resting his chin against her hair. “Of course I’ll hold you. I’ll hold you for as long as you need, Grace Daniels.”

  His chest was bare. Muscled. Solid. Grace inhaled his clean male warmth.

  “Not like that,” she said. She felt him draw back a little. The scattering of crisp hairs across his chest prickled her cheek.

  “I don’t understand.”

  She found another scrap of strength and lifted her head, leaning back until she could meet his gaze. Even in the bright moonlight, it was shadowed and hard to read. She hoped hers was equally hidden by the night. She shook her head.

  “I don’t want you to hold me like that.”

  I need…

  Again the thought escaped. She lifted a hand. Smoothed it along the line of his shoulder. Felt him go still.

  “Grace—”

  “I need to be held,” she said. That wasn’t quite it, but it would do. She trailed fingertips down the center of his chest and over the lines of his rigid abdomen, traced along the edge of the jeans he had unsnapped. His breath turned ragged.

  I need…

  “Grace, I—”

  “I need to forget. Just for tonight. No strings,” she said. And then the wisp of thought that had been hounding her, half formed and fragile, finally completed itself. “I promise. I just nee
d you, Sean. Please.”

  CHAPTER 33

  ………………

  GRACE LEFT HIM IN THE middle of the night. Sean felt her stir, felt her warmth draw away from his side, felt the care in her movements as she tried not to wake him. Part of him wanted to whisper her name, to reach out and pull her back into the nest of covers they’re created on the floor of the living room, to wrap her in his arms and hold the world and her pain at bay for just a little longer.

  A greater part held him silent, knowing she would resist. No strings, she’d said. This had been a one-time thing. A need he had been only too willing to fulfill for her. But every touch, every kiss, every whimper of pleasure he’d drawn from her had wrapped another gossamer-fine thread of steel around him and around his heart.

  Or perhaps they’d just revealed the bonds already in existence.

  Gareth’s voice came back to him from the previous afternoon. “You’re more than halfway in love with her.”

  He’d known then that Gareth was right. Tonight had proved it.

  But he still didn’t call Grace back to him as, slender and ethereal in the moonlight, she gathered up her scattered clothing. He still didn’t let her know he was awake as she padded down the hallway toward her room, her footsteps nearly soundless. He didn’t speak. She didn’t look back. Her bedroom door closed with a soft click.

  His thoughts followed her on a sigh. I love you, Grace Daniels.

  He stared up at the shadowed ceiling. I love you. So many times tonight, the words had nearly spilled from his lips, but he’d caught them back for a multitude of reasons. A multitude of doubts. Grace came as part of a package deal he’d sworn never to take on. As wonderful as the kids were, they were still a permanent fixture in her life—and not one that he could afford to take lightly. For all their sakes. He’d seen too many families crumble under the weight of poorly thought-out good intentions. He’d been on the receiving end of those intentions himself as a kid—more times than he cared to count.

  Love Grace he might, but would that be enough?

  ………………

  Grace slid into bed, shivering at the cold of the duvet cover against her skin. Skin warmed by Sean, still bearing his scent, the imprints of his touch, his kisses. She stared at the outline of the window and the tangle of branches it framed, black against the moonlit sky. A sigh trembled from her lips. Damn. That had so not worked out the way it was supposed to. Oh, it had served the purpose she’d intended. For a little while—a few moments suspended forever in time—she’d achieved exactly what she’d wanted. Forgetfulness. Life. Connection. The very thorough fulfillment of her needs.