“I didn’t run away.”
“You ran.” She was still running. He should follow her lead and run in the other direction. He’d spent too many years on his own and relying on himself. He was better alone.
“The champagne, the music, the starlit sky made the entire evening a fantasy. But the sun rose, and the fantasy expired.”
“I wasn’t drunk that night. You captured my attention with your bold red dress.” Her poise and confidence had made her stand out that evening. He’d wanted to feel her joy. He’d wanted to be next to her. To make her smile himself. To hear her laughter. Then they’d danced, and he hadn’t wanted to let her go. Then they’d talked, and he couldn’t learn enough. Share enough.
“That wasn’t me. This is me. Plain, ordinary, reliable me.” She motioned toward her bulky sweater and jeans. “Hardly the same fantasy woman from that night.”
Ethan straightened, surprised that she didn’t see herself like he saw her. Another realization followed, knocking him off balance.
She’d sabotaged the next morning, but not because of anything he did. She’d run, not believing that she had anything to offer. Not believing she could ever be enough.
That settled things. He would help her get her business off the ground and to find the courage to put herself first. In another time and another place, she would’ve been more than enough for him. But that was before family disagreements, rising debt and when he still had a heart he’d been willing to risk.
“If it matters, I happen to like the reliable you.” Ethan stepped around her to pick up her soup bowl and his plate. “And you’re anything but ordinary or plain.”
“I’m not like my sisters.”
That he found refreshing. He rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. “Why do you need to be like your sisters?”
“It’s not important.” She tugged her laptop across the counter. “We need to go over these spreadsheets, not talk about me.”
He’d much rather talk about Grace. But he’d avoided looking at Grace’s accounting reports long enough. It was time he learned just how impossible turning the ranch around was going to be.
An hour later, too many numbers and too many equations bounced around inside Ethan’s head. Colors from Grace’s spreadsheets flashed before him like spotlights.
He watched Grace’s car disappear down the driveway and escaped into the horse barn. The two pregnant mares, Butterscotch and Fancy, offered a much-needed refuge.
Ethan shut the barn doors, blocking the stress outside in the cold night. Here with the horses, Ethan’s world finally made sense.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GRACE HANDED MRS. O’GRADY her bag of bird seed, promised to stop by the older woman’s house to see her new collection of feeders and scooted onto the stool behind the checkout counter. The last time she’d sat down had been in her mom’s office that morning to explain the updates to the inventory program.
The school bell had just rung to release students for the day, and workers nationwide searched for an afternoon pick-me-up snack of caffeine or sugar to finish the last few hours of work.
The front doors opened, and Grace’s pick-me-up stepped inside: Ethan. Yesterday he’d told her he liked her reliable self. Didn’t find her ordinary or plain. His words were distracting. Flustering. Left her unbalanced. She blamed Sarah Ashley for this.
Her sister had planted the seed, even as she’d warned Grace that Ethan would never love her. But the idea lingered inside Grace nonetheless.
But wasn’t their relationship, or friendship, already complicated enough with a baby on the way? She didn’t need to add any sticky feelings that he couldn’t return. That was a one-way street to heartache.
Grace watched Ethan approach the checkout counter and bit her tongue to stop her laughter. Mud covered him from the top of his head to the tips of his boots. Dirt and grime were smeared on his face. Yet his eyes were clear and sharp. His stare too watchful. Too searching, as his gaze found her and finally softened, as if he’d missed her.
Those pesky flutters started again, this time around her heart.
He paused on the other side of the counter. Beneath his grimace, his voice was rough and coarse, as if he’d swallowed mud too. “Do not laugh.”
Grace was now certain he’d been treasure hunting on the ranch. She nodded and clasped her hands together in front of her. Ethan shifted his weight and tiny bits of dried mud fell like snowflakes and her grin escaped. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“The time capsule that Ben and I buried underneath the trough in the bull’s pasture when we were ten.” He straightened the cuffs of his flannel shirtsleeves, as if that would fix his appearance.
Laughter burst from inside her. It was so unlike her. She’d always tended to stray to the more serious side. But she’d found laughing came easier, was freer, with Ethan.
“It’s not funny.” He crossed his arms over his chest, yet the hint of a smile flashed up into his eyes.
Grace dialed her reaction down to a chuckle, but her smile refused to dim. “It is a little.”
He didn’t disagree, only asked, “Can you get me that special vitamin supplement for the Pierces’ mare? The same one I ordered for Butterscotch.”
Grace focused on the computer screen, instead of Ethan. He hadn’t forgotten to call Mr. Pierce. He’d even made another house call to evaluate the mare, she assumed. She opened her mouth.
“Don’t make more out of this, Grace, than there is.” He reached to brush his hand through his hair, but stopped as if realizing he’d shower the counter and Grace with more dirt. “The Pierces are Randy Frye’s neighbor. Randy has been good to our family over the years.”
Grace nodded. Did he realize his explanation made no sense? She didn’t care. He’d treated another animal in town. “What can I do?”
“Take a bottle of beta carotene to Dr. Lancaster when you bring him dinner.”
“How did you know?” she asked.
“I talked to a colleague who specializes in avian care about Peabody this morning.”
That was certainly going above and beyond for a patient—a patient he never wanted. Not that she was going to point that out. He already seemed to resent making that particular confession. “I meant, how did you know I was going up to Dr. Lancaster’s?”
“I stopped to make a few moves on Pops’s chessboard on my way in. Your mom asked if I wanted some of the extra buffalo chicken casserole she’d made for Dr. Lancaster.” Ethan looked at her, his voice and shoulders finally relaxed. “Your mom should’ve been a chef.”
“She loves to cook and adores nothing more than an empty plate.” Grace typed on her keyboard, then printed a receipt for Ethan. “I need to get the Pierce supplement ready.”
“Mr. Pierce will be in to pick it up before you close for the day.” Ethan tucked the receipt in the back pocket of his jeans. “Thanks, Grace. If you have time tomorrow, we can finish going through the ranch projections you put together.”
“Wait.” Grace gripped the counter. She wasn’t ready for him to leave. Her heart cheered. Her mind chided her weakness. She needed to let him go. “Where are you off to next?”
He eyed her. His jaw tensed as if he debated his answer. “To Rachel Thompson’s office.”
Surprise jolted through her. He’d called the lawyer after all. Had he given up his treasure hunting and taken her advice? Before she could celebrate, horror pushed her to scramble around the counter and rush over to him. “You can’t go to her office like that.”
He looked down at his clothes as if seeing the mud for the first time. “Why not?”
“I’ll go with you,” she said. “You can listen from the porch.”
He set his hands on his hips. “You want me to stand outside on the porch like I’m the misbehaving family dog not allowed inside.”
That was prett
y much it. She set her hands on the least filthy part of his shirt—his shoulder—and pushed. “At least go into the bathroom and wash your hands and arms so you can shake Rachel’s hand without getting her dirty too.”
“It’s just a little mud,” he argued. “Nothing Rachel hasn’t experienced working on her own family ranch. You do remember that Rachel owns the Double T Ranch, right?”
“I can get you a new flannel from the men’s area,” Grace suggested, her grin and voice hopeful.
He shook his head. “I’ll wash up. You sure you can leave the store?”
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.” Although she guessed Ethan might need more time to scrub his face clean. She waited until Ethan disappeared into the men’s restroom and called for her mom and Sarah Ashley.
Not long after that, Ethan and Grace stood on the sidewalk outside Calder & Associates. Ethan stomped his boots, knocking more mud off. He’d left a trail behind him on their walk from Brewster’s.
Grace eyed Rachel’s one-hundred-year-old, more-shack-than-office building and hoped their meeting with the lawyer ended before the weathered siding disintegrated in the May breeze.
Ethan brushed his thighs and rubbed his hands together. “That’s the best it’s going to get.”
Grace nodded and stepped onto the porch. Ethan opened the door for her. It was clearly warped. She risked a few splinters from the chipped wooden frame, rather than get any closer to Ethan’s dirty clothes.
Grace entered the empty reception area as Rachel approached. The women hugged. Grace motioned to Ethan, who’d been hovering in the doorway. “Ethan had a run-in with the trough in the bull’s pasture. He’ll listen from the porch.”
Rachel offered a small smile. “Thanks for staying out there, Ethan. I just cleaned the office.”
Grace didn’t doubt Rachel had cleaned her office herself. Grace noted her wrinkled blouse and the stain on her slacks. Even the weariness settling beneath her eyes. Rachel wasn’t the woman Ethan would remember from their high school days. Rachel had always been well-dressed and never hesitated to offer her judgment on those around her with her best friend Zoe’s encouragement. But the death of Rachel’s father had altered her world and Grace doubted the lawyer and new mom had much time these days to judge more than herself.
Grace glanced at Ethan. His contained expression gave nothing away.
He rested his shoulder against the doorway. “I appreciate any help you can give us, Rachel.”
Rachel nodded. Her voice was sympathetic. “The bank account is part of the trust, Ethan. That means you’ll have to go before Judge Myrna Edwards and plead your case if you want to try to access the funds.”
“Not Judge Edwards.” Ethan stared into space, a look of dread overtook him and his words slowed to a crawl.
Grace twisted in her chair to better study the shock on Ethan’s face. “What? She’s a lovely, kind lady.”
His frown deepened. “And one of Big E’s ex-wives.”
Grace had forgotten. The marriage had been so brief. That could be more than awkward. Grace looked at Rachel. “Isn’t there someone else?”
“Not in this county.” Rachel smoothed her palms on the folders in front of her. “Only Judge Edwards handles trust disputes in this part of the state.”
Ethan’s muttered curse drifted into the room. Grace asked the lawyer, “What now?”
“Give me a day or so to make an appointment with Judge Edwards,” Rachel said.
“Probably best to make the appointment in Jon’s name.” Ethan’s head was pressed against the door frame as if he wanted to start banging it. “Or even better, Grace’s name.”
“I’ll use both last names.” Rachel pushed off the desk and walked toward the open door. “Judge Edwards isn’t one for surprises.”
Grace stood and shook Rachel’s hand. “Thanks for your help. If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”
“My part is easy. I won’t have to go before Judge Edwards.” Rachel grabbed the door handle. “I don’t envy either of you.”
Grace joined Ethan on the small porch and waited for Rachel to wrangle the door closed. “Maybe you should ask your brother to handle this part?” Ethan’s twin, Ben, was a high-powered attorney in New York.
“He’s all the way across the country.” Ethan paced around the small porch, his movements stiff and tense. “I’ll talk to Jon. He’s better at this sort of thing. Jon can convince her. I can’t believe it’s Judge Edwards. I can’t believe there isn’t someone else. Anyone else.”
Grace captured his hand, and his attention, hoping to stall his rambling thoughts. She escorted him down the stairs and to the sidewalk. “How long was Judge Edwards married to Big E exactly?”
“Five days.” Ethan shook himself as if shaking off the past. “Five really long days.”
“That’s rather quick though.” Grace’s shoulder brushed against his. They strolled slowly, almost without any real purpose, as if content to linger together between destinations. “Does Judge Edwards even qualify as an ex? That hardly seems long enough to constitute as a marriage.”
“She was the first step-grandmother we had and lasted the shortest duration.” His voice softened and the frustration eased from his tone.
His hand in hers felt reassuring. Right. Did he feel it too? She didn’t want to take her hand away. She didn’t want to let go. “How old were you?”
He squeezed her fingers. “Old enough to know I didn’t want a replacement mom, but too young to know what to do with my grief.”
Grace ached for Ethan and his brothers. To lose their parents at such young ages was traumatic in and of itself. But then their grandfather brought not one but multiple wives home and probably reopened the boys’ wounds again and again. No doubt the boys declared each one lacking and unworthy. No wonder Ethan hadn’t seen eye to eye with his grandfather. Grace was struggling to understand Elias Blackwell herself.
Elias was supposed to have protected his grandsons. He was supposed to have put his grandsons first. That’s what her family did. That’s what she’d do for her child. She was angry on Ethan’s behalf. “What will you do when Big E returns?”
The question rolled out before Grace’s brain could catch up with her mouth. She wanted to erase her words from the air between them like chalk on a chalkboard.
Ethan dropped her hand and stuffed both of his into his jeans pockets, folding in on himself and away from her. He lengthened his stride. “No one in my family has spoken to Big E since March. He might not ever return.”
“You don’t believe that,” she said.
“No, I don’t. My grandfather’s loyalty to Blackwell land runs through his veins. He’d never abandon the Blackwell Ranch and his legacy.” Ethan kicked a piece of broken sidewalk out of his path. “That means Big E is up to something, but I’m not sticking around to see what his latest scheme is. That could be months from now.”
“The same time as the baby’s arrival.” Grace wrapped her arms around her stomach to block out the late-afternoon chill. And to prove she didn’t need Ethan to be warm. She had to focus on her world. That was the baby. That was building her business. It wasn’t some fantasy about her and Ethan being together simply because they’d held hands.
“I should know your due date.” He grimaced as if she’d mentioned a root canal appointment and not the birth of his child. “When is it?”
Grace tucked her heart back behind its protective wall and walked toward Brewster’s. “My due date is the twenty-first of November.”
Ethan stopped her before she retreated inside the store and the security it offered her. “We need to talk more about the baby.”
“Yes, but I need to drop off Dr. Lancaster’s dinner. You need to shower and change.” Grace clutched the railing behind her. She wanted to talk about the impossible. She wanted to talk about Ethan being more than a temporary fa
ther.
He traced a finger over her cheek, his gaze drifting over her face as if he was cataloging every detail. “I can go with you to Dr. Lancaster’s house.”
“I can handle it on my own.” Grace caught his hand and released it. This time, she didn’t hold on to him; instead, she climbed the stairs, shutting him out. As it should be. As she wanted.
Grace glimpsed Ethan from over her shoulder as he strode toward his truck. Opposite directions. Just as she suspected they would always live.
Once again, he’d hesitated to give her anything concrete about his future and that made her unsure about everything.
And yet, being with Ethan the past week had made her want more from him. No, she expected more.
She wanted their child to have the same care and attention that Ethan had shown to others in town. And on a regular basis. Their baby deserved no less.
If he stayed in Falcon Creek, what would he lose? What dream would he forfeit? How long before he resented her? She’d be the one who’d trapped Ethan Blackwell. She refused to be that woman.
It was best for everyone if they each went their separate ways.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ETHAN TOSSED HIS cell phone on the passenger seat of his truck and tapped his head against the steering wheel. The extra-large cup of coffee he’d brewed in Zoe’s fancy machine only an hour ago gnawed through his stomach. That extra splash of the flavored cream curdled inside him, leaving behind the dual taste of desperation and frustration. And it was only two hours past sunrise. There was still a full day to go.
He had already had one more veterinarian clinic to check off his list of possible practices. One more denial. One more rejection. Phone interviews were getting him nowhere fast. He needed to meet potential veterinarians in person. Then he might be able to convince someone to take a chance on him. If he could prove his worth, how much of an asset he’d be beyond what was listed on his résumé, he might have an advantage. Heaven knew, he needed an advantage, no matter how small. Falcon Creek offered no chance for in-person interviews. He had to leave and soon. November would be here sooner than expected and he wanted to support his child.
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