“I'm fine, Drago. Really,” she reassured him. “You are worrying too much.”
He wanted to hurry her to her father's office, away from an encounter with Carson. Away from the child. He wanted to prepare her, but St. Clair destroyed all hope, descending the stairs with the tiny girl on his hip.
“Gracie girl! Welcome back!” he bellowed. “I've been wondering when you'd venture out. Lookie what I got here!”
Every muscle in Drago's body tensed. His jaw clenched and unclenched in anticipation of his wife's reaction. Halfheartedly, he cursed St. Clair, knowing the man had no idea of Grace's private pain. He wished he could spare her. But her next words hit him like an uppercut to the jaw.
“This must be Kadence!”
Relaxed beneath his hand, Grace welcomed the sight without blinking an eye.
“She sure is,” St. Clair spoke, beaming as if he showed off his own child. “Carson's coming in a minute. The little Miss left him a fine mess. Didn't she?”
Drago was speechless. The only explanation was that her father had prepared her. He wished that Guy had prepared him.
“Hello Grace,” Carson said meekly, taking his daughter.
Leaning closer to her husband, Grace nodded to the man who had once terrified her.
Drago felt like growling.
Awkward silence lingered, encouraging St. Clair and the Friar to take their leave. Carson had confessed his shame to Guy, and later to them, after his world had collapsed around him. He'd had no one to turn to after ruining his chances with Antonio Paola. Seeing his daughter come into the world had been the wake up call he needed, but it was too late to salvage his fighting career. Clean and sober since Kadence's birth, his life now revolved around the little girl – his little girl. With no job and his assets nearly squandered, he had sought Guy Antolini, the only man who he thought might give him a second chance. Carson would never forget the day he had humbly talked to the man who, for two years, had been his mentor.
Walking into First Strike, Carson breathed deeply, his chest constricted with anxiety. This was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He found Guy Antolini in his office. Knocking on the door frame, he waited, uncertain if his presence would be tolerated.
Guy looked up from the papers strewn on his desk.
“Carson,” Guy acknowledged, offering nothing more.
“Anto, I was hoping I could talk to you. Is this a good time?”
“Come inside, Carson. Shut the door.”
Carson wasn't sure where he should begin. He closed the door and stood in front of Guy's desk. Exhaling and drawing on his evaporating courage, he started.
“I don't know if I should even be here, honestly. I wasn't sure you would see me.”
He waited for Guy to say something, but the older man only listened silently.
“I've made a mess of everything, Anto. I blew it. My career is up in smoke, and I've got nobody to thank but myself. I'm not here asking for you to take me back into training. I just want to tell you that you were right about everything you said to me before I left here. I was pissed off, and full of myself, and I ruined a good thing.”
He wanted to come clean about everything but stopped, wondering how in the hell to say it.
“Carson, I'm going to ask you one question, and I want an honest answer,” Guy broke in. “Why are you here?”
Carson Khaler knew it was time to confront the man he had become, a man he didn't want to be anymore.
“Guy,” he choked out, his voice strained, “I'm here because I need to be. I... I didn't come back after you found out that I was using, but that's not the whole reason why.”
Confessing the whole truth of what he had done to Grace – and why - Carson purged his gut of the guilt that had been eating away at him for so long.
“After that night, I knew I couldn't come back. And instead of facing my problems, I spiraled out of control. Drugs, drinking, partying..., you name it, I did it. When Savannah and I got engaged, I thought I was living the life. Then she found out she was pregnant. I wasn't there for her; I was too damned busy with myself. When my daughter, Kadence was born..., I don't know..., something clicked in my head. Here was this little baby, my baby, that was depending on me. I've been clean and sober since the night she was born, and that's the truth, Anto.”
Carson collected himself for a minute, then added the harsh truth.
“I'm here, Anto, because I've got nowhere else to turn. My parents have all but written me off. The only thing Savannah cares about is the next party she's going to. I've burned through most of my savings, and I've got a little girl to raise. I don't know what to do...”
Guy had taken it all in without uttering a sound. It had been all he could do to sit through Carson's admission of what he had done to Grace. But Guy Antolini was a good man. Wisely recognizing that he was in a position to offer Carson Khaler a new beginning, and that in doing so he would be helping the man to take care of his daughter, Guy made his decision. The rest would be up to Carson.
“If you're serious about staying clean and giving your daughter the kind of life that she deserves then come back Monday. But you need to know that this is a one-time offer. I'm not going to tolerate any bullshit in my gym. You've got a job if you want it. We'll see how things go.”
Carson broke down and sobbed, unable to say more than, “Thank you.”
He had come in a broken man. He had left with hope.
Carson shook off the memory. It was time to offer a long overdue apology.
Drago's hard, black gaze bore down upon the man before him a moment before he turned to take Grace and leave.
“Please wait,” Carson began. “There are a few things I need to say.”
Grace's hesitation under Drago's hand stopped him from ignoring the request. She faced Carson slowly, meeting his pleading stare.
“I want to apologize, Grace. For everything. Having Kady made me take a hard look at my life, and I didn't like what I saw. Without her, I probably wouldn't have changed at all. That's the sad truth. It's not nearly enough, I know. But I am sorry.”
His honest statement hung in the air. Grace saw him so drastically changed from the fighter he had been in her father's gym that she could not withhold the words he needed to hear her speak.
“Carson,” she replied softly, “I forgave you a long time ago. Forgive yourself and be the sort of man that your little girl needs.”
“I'm trying to, Grace. Thank you.”
Grace trusted in her father's judgment. When he had explained Carson's situation to her, she had been unnerved at the thought of seeing him again. But her father had seen fit to give him a second chance, and she was willing to do the same. Grace knew that Carson had been away from First Strike, finally introducing his daughter to his parents. What she hadn't known was that her husband had been blindsided by Carson's return.
Silently, Drago led Grace back toward the group in the gym, knowing their faith had compelled her simple act of forgiveness. His own heart warred within him.
* * *
A peculiar sensation passed through Grace, sitting at the desk that was once her domain. She watched a plume of vapor float up from an idling vehicle parked in front of First Strike's expansive glass front.
A typical February day, she mused.
Occasionally, a bundled body would scurry past, seeking refuge from the bitter cold whether from the shop they sought or their vehicle. Aiden Wexler, a sport's medicine major on hiatus, normally manned the reception desk but had requested the day off, and Grace had volunteered to take the young man's place. Weekdays rarely brought anyone but First Strike trainees in. Expecting dull hours, she thought to sneak in a workout and hoped to spend the mid-day break with Drago. The demands of his training stole him away before dawn, returning him only after the curtain of darkness had long hidden daylight. Mornings were cherished moments with him, a sweet hour's span before life intervened, and she counted the days until Sunday would once again allow them a reprieve.
&
nbsp; Icy air swirled in as Carson, laden with the tiny snow suited girl, diaper bag, and bulky play yard, struggled to get inside. Thoroughly amused at the spectacle, Grace ran to offer help. Plump cheeks, pink from the cold, rested against the white fur of the snug hood, and round, blue eyes regarded her cautiously as Grace took her.
“You're a life saver,” Carson breathed out, dropping his load to the floor.
“Tell me what to do. Should I start on the play yard?”
“It's a testy contraption,” he warned with a grin. “You mind wrestling a baby out of a monkey suit?”
“Certainly not,” she laughed. “How hard can it be?”
“Famous last words!” he countered.
Setting to work on the snowsuit left Carson to tackle his baby gear. Wary of the new face, Kadence lay perfectly still, allowing Grace quick success with the bulky item. Happily free from her confines, the baby lifted her arms to be held, and Grace scooped her up.
“You're a pro! It takes St. Clair and me ten minutes to get her out of that thing,” Carson quipped.
“I'm sure Savannah's the pro,” she contradicted. “That was beginner's luck for me.”
The darkened expression on Carson's face made Grace wish she could take back her words.
“Grace, Savannah left me. She left Kady, too.”
He sighed and returned to his task.
“I'm sorry. My father hadn't mentioned that,” Grace stated, newly aware that Carson was left to raise Kadence on his own.
“Don't be sorry. It was for the best. I still worry about her, but she wasn't ready to be a mother - or a wife.”
“I see,” Grace said.
But she didn't see at all. How could anyone leave this precious little girl?
Carson spent every free moment playing with and cuddling Kady, calling her his Kady-did. St. Clair was never far behind. But a bond began to form between Grace and the motherless little girl, strengthening as each day passed.
Uneasiness tugged at Drago's mind as he watched his wife's doting on Kadence Khaler, but he kept his own counsel, uncertain if he feared his wife's attachment out of concern for her heart, or out of jealousy toward Carson. Climbing the suspension staircase in search of her brought her soft voice to his ears. Following the melody of a lullaby to the conference room, he paused, unobserved in the doorway. Her back faced him, and he saw the golden tufted head resting limply against Grace's shoulder as she rocked soothingly from side to side, her song lulling the little girl deeper into sleep. The song continued after the words of the verses, Grace making up her own as she went, and Drago found himself reluctant to disturb the thing of beauty he witnessed.
Carson joined him in the doorway, waiting to get by. He nodded his thanks as Drago conceded his spot, silently moving to check on Kady. Beside Grace, Carson leaned in to skim his lips across the head of his peacefully sleeping daughter, and Grace smiled up at him, relinquishing the little body to his arms.
The scene flooded Drago with jealousy, tightening his gut with realization. He wanted to see his wife smiling up at him. Her arms holding his child. His heart railed. Carson would gain no further tender smiles from his wife. They were for him alone.
Grace hurried to him, and safely out of range of the napping child she greeted him warmly.
“Are you ready for something to eat, love?”
Grasping her arm, he marched down the hall, stopping outside Guy's office.
“Wait here,” he commanded in an abrasive tone and disappeared inside.
Not understanding her husband’s behavior and hurt by his harsh tone, Grace's cheeks flamed, and she hoped no one had witnessed the exchange.
“Is everything okay, sunshine?” came Carson's careful question from behind her.
Burying her humiliation, she tried to sound calm.
“Yes. Everything is fine, Carson.”
His hesitation left her hoping he would accept her reply without further question.
“Not that what I say carries much clout, but know that if you need anything...anything, Grace,” he trailed off his sentence, seeing Drago emerge from the office, Guy in tow.
Taking Grace around the waist possessively, Drago leveled his cold stare on Carson and warned, “My wife is not your concern.” He turned back to Guy, adding, “Until Monday, then.”
With a nod aimed at Guy Antolini, Drago guided his wife toward the door.
In stunned silence, Carson stood, watching the hasty departure. Guy shook his head and chuckled.
“Is Grace going to be all right?” Carson worried aloud.
Slapping him on the back, Guy answered, “She'll be just fine. The man needs some time with his wife, that's all.”
Seeing Carson's real worry, Guy elaborated.
“A man can get rattled if he thinks someone might want what is his, especially a man in love.”
“I never meant to...,” Carson protested. But Guy broke in before he could finish.
“I know that, son. But Drago doesn't yet. And my Gracie is his wife. There are a few things you don't know. Things between a husband and wife, and well, a father, too. Take my advice, Carson. Keep a respectful distance between yourself and Grace. Drago's a good man. He'll come around.”
Concern still knit Carson's brow, prompting Guy to add, “She's my daughter, Khaler. I'd never tolerate a man I didn't trust with her.”
It was the truth, Carson knew.
* * *
Spindly branches, bare against the wooded backdrop, stretched their gnarled fingers outward, unable to escape the forest's edge. To Grace they appeared weary, seeking yet unable to find the light that would free them from winter's imposed nakedness. Still preoccupied with Drago's odd behavior, Grace stared out the window, waiting for him to explain himself. She was aware that something gnawed at him but remained unwilling to force a discussion. The winding drive within Antolini property led them along the scenic view toward the snug house that was their home, and in spite of her husband's confusing outburst, she relished the idea of an afternoon alone with him. His hand had sought her skin, tracing the length of her fingers absently as he navigated the dirt and gravel road.
“Go inside, moja žena, and pack for the weekend – a simple, private weekend,” Drago informed her. “I know my training has consumed my time and attention,” his voice softened with his words, “and I need to have you all to myself for the next few days.”
“That would be nice,” Grace agreed.
Inside, she began packing a few things as Drago spoke on the phone in the living room. When he entered and began adding his clothing to the bag, she asked, “How did you manage to get my father to agree to this?”
Drago's eyes simmered, a faint smile touching their corners.
“I told him that I needed to enjoy my wife's company undisturbed. That if this did not happen, and if I saw my beautiful wife smiling – even her innocent smile – at Carson once more... I am jealous for your attention, milovnik.”
“Was jealousy what I saw today, Drago?” she asked quietly. “Because I did not like it.”
The simple statement found its mark well, causing Drago to cringe inwardly. Reflecting on his earlier actions, he understood he had hurt the person he loved. He expelled the air from his lungs in a rush.
“In my anger, Grace, I was harsh with you. Forgive me, žena. There was no call for my behavior.”
Packing had ceased during their conversation, and Grace sat quietly on the bed as Drago stood at its edge, staring at the open bag between their bodies. She reached for his arm, her gentle touch encouraging him to look at her. When his eyes rose to meet hers, they burned with unspoken emotion.
“I forgive you, love,” her lips offered as her hand squeezed his arm. “Now you need to forgive Carson and let it go.”
Casting the bag from the bed, Drago embraced his wife.
“Moja žena,” he murmured against her hair. “What you say is true. I have carried a grudge in my heart, and it is a burden not only for me. I've caused it to become a burden to
you also, milovany.”
Grace's heart was suddenly light, and a comforting peace filled her at her husband's words. Her love bloomed brighter as respect swelled in her heart, for her husband proved anew the reason he alone had earned her love. Drago had looked inside his heart and confronted what he found there, not with excuse or denial, but with honesty.
“Let go of it, Drago, so we can focus on one another during our getaway.”
“I will, sipková, sweetbriar,” he promised. He slid from the bed onto his knees and poured his heart's struggle out before the Lord with his wife beside him.
Chapter 16
Magnolia Hills Bed and Breakfast draped over the soft swell of the grounds as if proudly aware it adorned the landscape with its beauty. Yellow clapboard siding cast the large, sprawling inn in a warm, welcoming hue while black shuttered windows gave the formal, crisp appearance of a well respected establishment. Stones of various shades of gray fronted the home's lower exterior, continuing around the side and looming up into tall archways which encased the expansive patio and outdoor dining areas. Used during the winter months when huge fires were lit in dual fireplaces and hot beverages were served, guests huddled about the glowing blazes to enjoy clear, starry nights while cheating winter's chill.
Dusk quickly deepened into dark night as Drago and Grace found their suite on the second floor of the great colonial. Elegant furnishings displayed in classic simplicity offered a beautiful setting in the interior to match the impressive outside. With their only bag quickly dealt with, the couple admired the handsome suite they would enjoy in privacy for the next few days.
Cherry wood paneled walls conjured the vision of a cozy, log cabin retreat, the darkness of the wood softened by ivory Berber carpeting. A fire roared in the oversized stone fireplace, lit by the wonderful staff while they checked in and shared dinner with the other guests in the dining hall downstairs. Spread before the hearth lay a bearskin rug, and Grace knelt to run her hands over it.
“This is absolutely wonderful!” she declared, taking in the spacious room's furnishings. “I feel as if we're in a secluded cabin high in the mountains. How did you find this place?”
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