Unexpected Hero (Buttermilk Valley Book 1)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  Would he still have asked her to marry him if she hadn’t gotten pregnant?

  They’d kept the secret from their family, most importantly from Martha who would have used it as leverage against Grace. She and Trace had run off, eloped, and no one calculated the number of months before Daxton was born. She had never been ashamed that she’d gotten pregnant with him out of wedlock, but because Trace had plans of becoming pastor, he believed the church family would see him unfit because he was already much younger than the prior pastor. Deep down, he was a man of ethics and duty.

  Many times in their marriage she’d often wondered if he’d done the right thing, and not what he’d wanted to do in the way of his happiness. On their honeymoon, he’d come clean and told Grace he’d been in a relationship with a woman, Darcy England, and they’d been crazy in love, but Martha had raised a stink, demanding that he break it off with her. Darcy was too free-spirited and unfocused for a pastor’s wife. Or at least that’s what Martha had believed. Grace realized then why they’d eloped instead of having a ceremony with family and friends. Martha never forgave them because they hadn’t included her. When they’d come to Buttermilk Valley, Grace and Trace stood in Martha’s pristine livingroom telling her the news. Grace had thought the woman would flip her lid. Martha had stood and twisted her hands together as anger flashed over her expression. She hadn’t said a word, just walked out of the room. Grace had cried and felt like Trace had dragged her into the mess, throwing her to the wolves, without one word of warning. However, the look of satisfaction she’d seen on Trace’s face in regards to his mother’s reaction had made Grace go cold.

  Young and wanting happiness, with a baby on the way, Grace had tolerated Martha’s aloof attitude and Trace’s past relationship, even when Darcy came to church every Sunday morning, going out of her way to have private chats with Trace. Grace knew even if Trace had married her for the sake of their child, he was loyal to her. She’d never suspected anything until the last six months of their marriage. Trace had been working late at the church and Grace had wanted to surprise him with dinner. Instead, she’d been the one shocked. She found her husband and Darcy in his office, door partially closed, talking in low voices. Grace had wanted to barge in, throw the fried chicken at his head, but she’d walked away, never mentioning it to Trace. However, Grace had broken down to Martha, telling her what she’d seen that evening and, although her mother-in-law didn’t have open arms for Grace, things were better between them.

  None of those things mattered anymore because Trace was gone.

  Grace pushed the thoughts from the past out of her mind and tried to relax in the cotton sheets. She started to drift when car lights feathered across her bedroom wall, alerting her that someone was outside. She glanced at the clock. 12:10 A.M. Who would be here at this hour?

  Pushing back the covers, she crossed the cold, wooden floor and pulled back the sheer panel to look out. The security light shown down upon the small white car as the passenger door opened and Gunnar got out.

  She hadn’t realized he wasn’t in his room.

  Where had he been? Or maybe she should ask, with whom?

  It wasn’t any of her business and, as she started to step back, the driver’s door opened and a woman stepped out, saying something to Gunnar. Grace’s breath stilled. This wasn’t just any woman! Darcy England. Gunnar waved at her and she got into the car and left.

  Grace stared in disbelief.

  Gunnar turned, his head tilted and he looked straight into her window. Stepping back, she pressed against the wall. Her heart beat so fast it made her eardrums throb. Had he seen her watching? No, there was no possible way. It was too dark.

  Seconds turned into minutes until she finally looked out again. He was gone.

  Peering across the yard into the apartment windows, his shadow appeared through the billowy curtain and she watched until the light went off.

  Grace crawled back into bed, her thoughts swirling through her brain. Gunnar and Darcy? No, she wasn’t his type. Or could she be? Darcy was a pretty woman, in a sexy, seductive way. Didn’t most men like women like her?

  Why should it matter?

  It didn’t. Not at all.

  Gunnar was a free man and Grace was his employer. Simple. The kiss they’d shared meant nothing…especially to her. Now that it was out of her system, she could move on.

  Unfortunately, the building of need in her core warned her that pretending she wasn’t attracted to Gunnar could be very difficult.

  Chapter Five

  “Alright then, tell me again how you were lucky enough to hire Brad Pitt’s shirtless brother to put up fencing in your yard.” Jerika Andrews, Grace’s best friend, was standing on tiptoes, head tilted at an odd angle as she attempted to get the best possible view through the kitchen window.

  “He’s just a man, Jerika. Stick your tongue back into your mouth.” Grace chuckled, sipping her coffee. “He looks nothing like Brad Pitt.”

  Jerika sighed and turned, nailing Grace with a skeptical eye. “Could have fooled me. Brad and your handyman both make my heart do funny things.” She moved from the counter, pulled out one of the wooden chairs from the table and sat.

  “Really? Hmm.” Grace rolled her finger around the rim of her cup, the one with the chip, but she couldn’t part with it. Daxton had made it for her as a Christmas present. She couldn’t seem to throw away any of his art work or school papers either and wondered if all parents were the same? Shaking her head, she automatically looked out of the window, searching for Gunnar. “I think he’s more of a Channing Tatum.” Oops. Had she said that aloud?

  “So you have noticed. I thought so.” Jerika sighed.

  Grace shook her head so fast some of the coffee spilled over the rim. “No, not in that way. I mean, of course I’ve noticed him, but I have to keep boundaries in place.” Heat spread over her cheeks. “He’s here to work and I respect that fact.” And she couldn’t tell anyone about the kiss.

  Jerika laughed. “Remember who you’re talking to. Your bestie who knows you like the back of her hand. Anyone, even a person that has a broken heart, would want to touch a man who looks that good. Have you seen the scar on his side? And the tattoos? Girl, I don’t know how you get anything done besides staring.”

  Grace sighed and swirled her coffee around the inside of her cup. “Does that make me bad? You know, that I’m watching him?”

  “Let’s see,” Jerika tapped her nail against the table, “you have a thirty-something Marine, shirtless and sweating, with He-man biceps in your yard. Is it wrong of you to stare and drool? You do have a pulse, right?”

  “Yes, but I don’t drool.” Grace tucked a strand of hair back into her pony-tail, resisting the urge to wipe the corner of her mouth.

  “Oh, that’s me.” She dramatically fanned herself. “Sweetie, you don’t have to feel guilty because you’re alive. Trace wouldn’t want you to stop living because he is gone. I was his friend too. He wanted you to be happy.” Concern filled Jerika’s dark eyes. “It’s been almost two years and it’s time you started thinking of your future—and Daxton’s future. You have to get on with the next phase of your life. It’s the natural progression of things.”

  “Two years might seem like a lot to you, but to me it’s still fresh.” Grace swallowed the lump in her throat and sat down at the table with her friend.

  “Honey, maybe I don’t have the right to give advice because I haven’t lost someone like you have, “

  “I want to hear your thoughts and opinions. I count on your honesty, even if it hurts at times.”

  Jerika patted her hand. “Love you, Grace, but I think it’s that hatchet of a mother-in-law that’s making this difficult for you. She doesn’t want you to move on, plain and simple.”

  “Give her a break.” Grace narrowed her eye. “She lost her only child.”

  “Then what was her excuse before his death? She’s treated you poorly since the day Trace put a ring on your finger.” Jerika squinted. “And by
the way, I do see that you’ve finally removed it. That is a start.”

  Grace automatically touched her bare finger, rolling the tip of her finger over the fading white tan line. “I know I don’t have a choice but to move forward. That’s why I’m determined to get the business to a point where it sustains itself.” Grace leaned back into the chair, twirling a stubborn tendril of hair around her finger.

  “If the business is what you want, then you have to start expecting people to pay. I didn’t even know people accepted goods for services these days.” Jerika gave a shake of her head, her black hair falling around her shoulders.

  “Don’t knock it. After all, you did enjoy the blackberry cobbler, blueberry jam, and sweet corn as much as I did. Mrs. Crater said she’d pay me back for the flowers for her husband’s funeral.”

  Jerika made an impatient gesture with one hand. “It’s not about the cobbler being delicious, sweetie. It’s about you needing to pay your bills. Trace’s life insurance will run out eventually.”

  “Martha said I’ll never make it in business.” Grace played with a paper napkin, ripping the corner. “She might know me better than I know myself.”

  “Hogwash. She’s only angry because she’s afraid you and Daxton will move on and forget her.”

  Grace shrugged. “At times I think she wishes I’d move on, if it wasn’t for Daxton.”

  “There’s more there than meets the eye, but not for you to worry about.”

  Grace’s sigh echoed off the walls. “I hope I’m not taking too much of a risk—building the greenhouse, buying all of the equipment and supplies. I’ve used a big chunk of the insurance money. I did set aside enough for Daxton to have a good start once he turns eighteen.”

  “Again, stop feeling guilty. Trace had the life insurance policy for this very reason. And remember, you two had discussed doing this before he—” Jerika stopped and nibbled her bottom lip contemplatively. “Before the incident. Thankfully, the money helps you move into a brighter future.”

  Grace slumped her shoulders. “I guess you’re right.”

  Jerika lifted one thin brow. “You guess I’m right? You know I only tell you the truth. And that man outside building your fence is yummylicious. I bet he could kiss all of the boo-boos away.” She wagged her brows.

  “Way too soon for that.” Grace pushed her chair back and it scraped the floor. She got up, went to the sink and poured out her cold coffee, then threw away the shredded napkin.

  “Maybe it’s the fear of the unknown that scares you. Let’s face it, while Trace was alive you did everything as his ‘wife’. Very seldom did you do anything for yourself.” Jerika snorted. “I mean, you haven’t even started pampering yourself and he’s no longer here. When was the last time you treated yourself?”

  Grace grabbed a carrot, dipped it into some humus and munched it, shrugging. Turning away from the sink, and the window of disdain, she eyed her friend in what she hoped was a calm expression. “A year ago I went to the salon and had my hair done.”

  “Wow, you really are high-maintenance.”

  Grace picked up the dish towel and threw it at Jerika’s head. She caught it. “Shut up or we’ll start talking about a certain someone from your past who you haven’t quite forgotten.”

  Jerika blinked. “First, I divorced the bastard for a reason and I only think of him on special occasions—when I’m mucking out the barn and watching the vet examine the cows with a hand up—”

  Grace lifted a hand. “Okay, I get your point.”

  “But he did teach me a valuable lesson. Trust is earned and should never be given freely.” Jerika clicked her tongue. “Have you heard that he’s getting married again?”

  “He is? To who?”

  “Have no clue and could care less.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie.” Grace realized that Jerika would never admit how her ex had broken her heart.

  “I’m over it. Now, for you, I’d certainly not allow rippling muscled GI Joe to go to waste.”

  “You’re single.” Grace pointed out. “You’d have that option.”

  “And you’re not?”

  Jerika could always put the truth in perspective. “I’m a widow. Big difference.”

  “Honey, you act as if that means you’re off the market.” Jerika whipped her long locks up into a bun and secured it with the band she had worn on her wrist.

  “Not that I’m looking, or even thinking about dating, but I’m not the catch of the sea. I’m a widow with a young child and everyone around these parts still see me as ‘the pastor’s wife’. That’s a hard position to step out of.”

  “Except one person. He doesn’t know you or have a preconceived idea of who you are.” Jerika tilted her head and winked.

  “Thanks for the boost, but not going to happen. He’s working for me and won’t be around here long.”

  “That makes the opportunity even juicier.” Jerika batted her lashes. “If he moves as powerfully in bed as he does outside, I can only imagine how much fun you’d have.” She smoothed her tongue along her bottom lip.

  Grace rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You’re bad. You know that, right?”

  Jerika laughed and tossed the towel back at Grace. “By the way, guess who I saw today at the diner?”

  “You know I hate guessing games. Just spill the beans.” Grace popped the last carrot into her mouth.

  “Sheriff Branson.” Jerika’s tone insinuated that Grace should be curious.

  Grace shrugged. “And what’s so important about Cooper?”

  “He was asking about you.”

  Holding onto the edge of the counter until her knuckles ached, Grace sighed. “What did he want?”

  “What do you think he wanted?”

  “To adopt a horse from you?”

  Jerika laughed. “Cooper with a horse? That’s funny.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be.”

  “Just what I thought.” Jerika wrinkled her nose.

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Grace noticed that her friend rolled her eyes.

  “Of course you do. You’re real good at ignoring the obvious. He asked what my thoughts are on you having a stranger hanging out here.”

  “That’s none of his business.” Grace grabbed a water from the fridge, uncapped it, but didn’t drink. “I’ve already made it clear to him that I’m in charge of this land and no one is going to tell me what to do—even if they were best friends with Trace.”

  “Cooper likes you…and I’m not talking ‘pastor’s wife’ like. I mean he is in love.”

  “How do you come up with such silliness?”

  “And how do you manage to live in a bubble?” Jerika asked.

  Grace frowned. “Probably because I’m not interested. Look, I know Cooper is wanting more. He’s made it clear to me on several occasions, but I don’t feel anything for him. I’ve known him for almost as long as I had Trace, and I’ll always think of him as a friend.”

  “He’s tall, dark, and handsome—not like GI Joe—but nice to look at. And he does have a job.”

  “I’ve never paid much attention.” Grace wrinkled her nose.

  Jerika chuckled. “Maybe not when it comes to Cooper, but you’ve paid attention to GI Joe. I’ve noticed you can’t stop from peeking outside and it has nothing to do with the flowers.”

  Grace started to deny the accusation, but didn’t waste her breath. She’d already admitted that she enjoyed watching Gunnar. “I’m admiring how beautiful my yard looks since he’s been taking care of things.” She crossed her arms over her waist.

  “What’s stopping you from dipping into the man jar? Wouldn’t you be telling me the same?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think it’s possible Gunnar and Darcy could be…well…you know?” Although it was none of Grace’s business who Gunnar spent his time with, but when she’d seen him get out of Darcy’s car, Grace had gotten weak in the knees and sick to her stomach.

  Jerika shrugged. “Why do you think
that?”

  “She dropped him off here late several nights ago.”

  “Okay, but if that slutty chick was riding that train, she would have blabbered it from the highest rooftop. You know as well as I do she makes it obvious when she has her claws in a man’s back.”

  Grace blinked. “That sort of hurts.”

  Jerika blew out a long breath. “Honey, Trace wasn’t sleeping with Darcy. She wanted to, indeed, but why would he eat cubed steak when he has filet mignon at home? And I’ve known that man since we were wearing diapers, and cheating wasn’t in his blood.”

  “But if a man isn’t eating the filet mignon, then he must get hungry eventually, and if cubed steak is right in front of him…”

  “Let’s stop talking about steak, shall we? I’m famished, and carrots and hummus can’t satisfy the hunger. Sure, Darcy’s sexy, but she lets it all out, leaves nothing at all to a man’s imagination. You, on the other hand, are beautiful. That is, when you’re not wearing food in your hair.”

  “What?” Grace ran her hands over her hair, pulling out a piece of cereal. “I have no idea how that got in there.”

  “You’ve got no competition in Darcy. Not where Trace was concerned, and definitely not where GI Joe is concerned. I do think it’s curious that you’re wondering about it though.”

  “It’s not that it’s any of my business, but I was only wondering.”

  Jerika scooted back her chair, got up and strolled next to Grace. “Of course, that’s the only reason. I’ve got to go. I have an appointment at ten this morning with the vet. We brought in a new horse yesterday and we don’t know if she’ll make it. If I’m late, Edith will never let me live it down.” Jerika gave Grace a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Come by soon, okay?”