"Thirty minutes?" he repeated.
"I rent a condo not far from the law school," Grace provided.
"And I," the other woman joined in, "live in a garage apartment in a suburb on the south end of Dallas. Depending on traffic and time of day I could get to North Dallas in about twenty minutes, or two hours."
"Two hours?" Chase concluded she had to be kidding—even his neck of the woods wasn't that extreme.
“Now, that's an exaggeration," Grace chimed in. "Even in rush hour you can easily get to my condo in…oh…an hour…and a half."
Hannah lifted her left hand onto a hip. "And if there's an accident?"
"I'd see you the next day." Laughing heartily, Grace wrapped an arm around her cousin. "But if you come at two in the morning on a Wednesday night I bet you could make it in twenty minutes."
"Done." Hannah leaned into her cousin. "First Wednesday night you're home you can come visit my place at two a.m.”
"Agreed." Grace pulled her cousin into another hug and held on for a little longer than the first embrace, then backed away, looking around. "So, where's that crazy brother of yours?"
Hannah flung a thumb over her shoulder. "He, Adam, Brooks, and DJ are on the front porch with a bottle of Johnny Walker."
"And Dad?" Grace glanced over her cousin's shoulder toward the front of the house.
"He's pouring. Blue label," Hannah added.
Chase had no idea if blue label whiskey was the norm in this part of the country, but even in the circles he moved in, the couple of hundred dollars a bottle blend was not a front porch, Sunday afternoon, shoot the breeze kind of scotch whiskey.
"Come on." Grace slipped her hand through his arm and tugged, hesitated, then stared down at their linked elbows.
The way her cheeks suddenly flushed, he had the distinct feeling she was experiencing a moment of déjà vu from about an hour or so ago. "You all right?"
Regaining her composure, she blinked, her gaze locked on his. "Thank you."
"Any time." Beautiful blue eyes seemed to be studying his soul.
With a brief nod, she broke the connection and glanced to the door. "Let's take you to the remainder of your species. I'm sure there's an extra glass awaiting your arrival." Over her shoulder, she looked to Hannah. "Stay put. I'll be right back." A fresh smile on her face, she returned her attention to him. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be." He might be more than ready for a smooth glass of whiskey, but something deep in his gut told him he might never be ready for everything Grace Farraday had to offer. Not that she was offering, but still, it was hard to ignore the possibilities.
***
"Okay. What was that all about?" Hannah stood halfway between Grace and the kitchen.
Carrying three glasses of lemonade in front of her, Becky came up beside Hannah. "Since the men have the front porch on such a pretty day, the women are moving to the back. And what was what all about?"
"Nothing." Grace couldn't answer because she had no idea what the answer would be. When she slipped her arm through Chase's a few minutes ago it was more in jest, but the feel of his arm against hers flashed her back to earlier in the day. It had taken her a few seconds to process if she was actually remembering what had happened or merely undergoing one of those weird psychobabble moments. But the only weird thing was that in a moment of distress she'd reached out for support from a near total stranger. A stranger who had given her much needed strength without comment or question. None of which made any sense to her. She wasn't the sort to need help, never mind to reach out to someone she barely knew, and then not even realize or remember she'd done it. Maybe the pressure of the damn bar exam was more stressful than she was willing to admit. "Nothing at all."
"Well," Becky looked from Grace to Hannah, "if you ask me—"
"I'm not."
"Since when has that stopped me?" Becky just grinned at her long-time friend. "Anything that merits a double nothing is most definitely something. So what happened?"
Hannah looked around and back. "Grace and the new guy were staring at each other as though they could eat each other with a spoon."
"Oh that." Becky shrugged.
"What do you mean oh that?" Grace and Hannah echoed.
"Earlier when DJ had to tell her about Dale, she latched onto Chase as if they'd been a matched set."
"She did?" Hannah looked sideways at her cousin.
"DJ never shows expression," Grace explained. "He's had to deliver sad news to too many people. When I saw the pain in his eyes, I knew it was something bad, but when he said it was Dale…" Tears welled again in Grace's eyes and she had to blink them back more than once. "I hate sad news."
"I knew something was bothering DJ recently,” Becky looked to her fiancé on the porch, “but couldn't get him to tell me what. We're still working on him not keeping stuff bottled up. Adam says that strong silent thing is worse for the guys coming back from the military."
Hannah's nod mirrored Grace's. They'd all seen it. Every time DJ or Connor came home from the Middle East they were a little different. Took a little longer to settle in. She was thrilled when they both left the service, Connor sooner than DJ. If the shit Ethan had seen bothered him, he hid it better than his brothers, but Grace wasn't going to lie, she was damn glad they were all out of harm's way now. And as soon as Ethan was finished up in California, all the brothers would be safe at home.
"You've grown awfully quiet." Hannah set her fingers on Grace's arm. "Maybe we should raid the liquor cabinet and spice up the lemonade."
"Said like a true bartender's sister. Jamie would be proud of you."
"Mixologist," Hannah corrected. "We'd better catch up with the ladies out back, and then you can tell us all about the hot new feed store owner."
"You think he's hot?" Grace didn't expect that to bother her.
"You don't?" Hannah's eyes opened wide. "Are you blind, woman? Tall, dark and dreamy fits the bill just right."
Grace resisted turning to take another look herself. Of course she'd noticed he was all of the above. "And delusional. Don't forget that one."
"Huh?" Becky stopped in her tracks. "Where'd that come from?"
"Oh, give me a break." Grace walked past her dear friend and future sister-in-law. "City boy buys a feed store in the middle of nowhere and doesn't even know the difference between a head and heel rope? In my book that's delusional with a capital D."
"I don't care if he's delirious." Hannah fanned under her chin. "Don't find too many of those just hanging around."
"They probably have more just like him in New York." Grace kept moving toward the back. Not that she wanted to continue this conversation with the rest of the female clan, but she didn't want to think more on how hot Chase Prescott was or wasn't. On the other hand, maybe finding herself a New York hottie of her own still living in New York City wasn't a half bad idea at all. The thought made her smile. As soon as she had the bar exam under her belt, a long weekend in New York would be just the reward. After all, her cousin was right about one thing. Who could ignore tall, dark and dreamy?
Chapter Seven
"Best thing about visiting this part of Farraday country is Aunt Eileen's pies." Jamie Farraday, the eldest of Aunt Anne and Uncle Brian's children, flashed the crooked-heart-stealing smile he'd inherited from his father as he dug into the rancher-sized lunch. Grace wondered just how many broken hearts were scattered between Austin and Dallas and anywhere else Jamison Farraday had paused to rest. "Don't tell Mom," Jamie continued, "but no matter how many years she practices, she's just not a baker."
Grace broke open the oven-fresh biscuit, releasing a burst of warm air. Even she missed her aunt's cooking. Despite all the Dallas restaurants boasting world-class biscuits and homemade foods, nothing she'd found so far matched dinner at the family table. "And here I thought you came to see our smiling faces."
"That too, cuz. That too." Jamie chewed and swallowed, and turned to face his cousins. "Have we heard anything new on DJ's friend?"
&n
bsp; Several heads shifted from side to side.
"DJ said he’d let us know if there was any change. I’m hoping no news is good news, but I’m going to call the hospital myself shortly. They may not tell me much, but…”
Aunt Eileen poured herself a cup of coffee. "I wish there was something we could do."
Hannah set down her fork. "If DJ's right and his friend Dale was having an emotionally hard time dealing with that domestic violence incident, he's going to need professional help. These military veterans are some of the hardest patients to deal with. They have a tough-it-out-on-their-own attitude. They want to work it off themselves."
"And they can't," Aunt Eileen mumbled. "At least not too many of them."
"Not long ago,” Grace interjected, “Dale met someone new. DJ mentioned they’d recently broke it off too. I wonder if that’s what set him off?"
"I wouldn't know." Hannah's gaze drifted to the side window and into the distance. "But I wouldn't be surprised if the breakup was a response and not the catalyst. I see it in veterans and cops, a pulling away, distancing themselves from the people they love."
"And Dale was both." Aunt Eileen sat back in her chair.
"Yeah," was all Hannah said before pushing to her feet and taking her dish to the sink.
From where Grace sat at the massive kitchen table, she had a clear view of Connor and Catherine across from her. The two often did that same doe-eyed newlywed eye-gazing thing that all her brothers and their other halves did, but this look was different. There was a silent conversation going on and the undertones were a hell of a lot more serious than two people in love coordinating their next rendezvous. Whatever the silent discussion was about, it ended with Stacey trotting merrily into the room and Connor covering his wife's hand and giving a quick squeeze before pulling his new daughter onto his lap.
"Sorry we're late." Finn hung his hat by the back door. "Thought I was going to have to help with one of our first time mamas."
"Everything okay?" Aunt Eileen was already at the stove dishing out a plateful of stew for the straggling nephew.
"Yeah, mama and son are doing fine."
A wide eyed moment of panic flashed across Catherine's face as she glanced from her young daughter to her brother-in-law. Connor reached over and gently patted his wife's knee and she blew out a soft breath and studied her smiling daughter.
"We gots another calf, mama."
"We have."
Stacey nodded. "We have another calf. This one's all black and wobbly but Uncle Finn let me pet him."
Grace had to give her sister-in-law credit. A few months ago, Catherine would have been hyperventilating at the thought of Stacey that close to a cow and her calf. Now, only a few slow breaths and her husband's hand had her sharing her daughter's joy of discovery.
"Tell them what else we did," Finn encouraged.
Stacey lit up as though she'd been given a first-class ticket to the North Pole. "Uncle Finn let me help feed the 3x4 bales of hay to the cows."
"He did?" Connor said with a hint of exaggeration.
"Yes. He said I was a big help."
Connor pulled her into a tight hug. "I bet you were, partner."
All this sweet family bonding was starting to unnerve Grace. She supposed they did have a relatively functional family life compared to some, especially considering how they lost their mother and all, but all this newfound love and joy and syrup in the room was getting to be a bit much, even for her.
The sound of her cell ringing in the other room startled Grace out of her thoughts. "Excuse me." She popped up from her seat and darted to where she'd left the phone on the end table. "Hello?"
"It's here!" Becky squealed in her ear.
Grace had a pretty good idea what it was, but she asked anyhow. "And that would be the new shipment of antivenom?"
"Sometimes you are too much like your brothers." Becky made an effort at groaning, but her jubilance won out. "My dress. It's at Sisters. Adam said I can take off the rest of the afternoon. Can you meet me?"
Glancing down at her jeans and boots, for a flash of an instant Grace considered heading upstairs to change and put on some makeup, and just as quickly remembered she was in Tuckers Bluff where dressing up meant pressed jeans and taking a brush to your boots. "I'll be there as fast as I can."
"Not too fast," Becky said quickly.
The girl knew Grace a little too well, but how much trouble could she get into on a long lonely stretch of straight road? "I'll pick you up at the clinic."
Becky sounded so excited, Grace wasn't sure the girl was going to be able to wait till Grace got to town.
"I've got to run into town.” Grace faced her family, “Becky's dress is here. Okay if I take the white truck?"
"I'm not going anywhere," Finn said. "Take the suburban."
"Got it." Grace smiled at her brother and wondered why none of them had ever bought a nice fast car. She almost laughed when she thought of Ethan. Who needed a car when he could cut through miles of sky at 150 miles per hour.
Rocking to Carrie Underwood and Rascal Flats, Grace made it to town in just over forty-five minutes. Hopefully Becky wasn't paying enough attention to time to notice.
"Oh, you're here," Becky squealed as Grace walked into the lobby. When her gaze lifted up to the clock on the wall, she narrowed her eyes at Grace and shook her head. "Just so you know, if anything had happened to you it would have totally ruined the wedding."
Grace chuckled. "I love you too."
Huddling and laughing like a couple of teenagers trading secrets, they hurried across the street and over to Sisters. The two women must have been as eager as Becky to see the dress as Sister held the door open and Sissy waited a few feet inside with a big white box.
"You can go try it on." Sissy shoved the box at Becky and shooed her toward the dressing rooms.
"Do you want some help, dear?" Sister asked, her gaze hopeful, but Becky's eyes shifted to Grace.
"I'm coming." Grace hurried behind her. In a surreal sort of way this reminded her so much of playing dress up as little girls. When the hell had everyone grown up?
***
"Yes, sir, Mr. Rankin." Andy penned the last item on the order and Chase did his best to look busy behind the counter.
Watching Andy and Mr. Rankin talking brought home how little Chase actually knew about the world he'd bought into. The two discussed the weather and cattle and other things as natural to them as the new restaurant on 8th Avenue or what the closing values of the stock market in China were for him and his associates.
"Sounds like you're feeling right at home?" The middle-aged rancher looked at Chase.
"As a matter of fact, I am." He had to remind himself that one day talking about bailing machines and branding would come as easily to him as it was to the other men in the store.
"Word at the café is that Eileen baked you her blueberry sour cream pie."
"For me?"
"At supper on the ranch," the man clarified.
"Oh. Yes, yes she did."
The bell over the door jingled and another man Chase didn't recognize came in.
"Afternoon Will, Andy," the large man in the standard, jeans, boots, button down shirt and hat extended his hand. "You must be the new owner from New York? I'm Will Berkner."
"Guilty as charged." Chase accepted the man's hand and shook. It hadn't surprised him to hear the customer knew he was from New York; he understood word spread fast when strangers moved to a small town.
For the next few minutes the two customers exchanged chitchat about wives and children and cow tipping. Until that second, Chase had always thought cow tipping to be a joke, not something that teenagers actually did for a prank. Whatever the men spoke of next was lost as Chase pondered how the hell a person gets fifteen hundred pounds or more of cow to lay feet up on its back.
"You still using the Stongid for your horses?" Andy asked.
"I am. Haven’t had a lick of trouble with colic or worms since Adam suggested it, but I
'm here for a few bales of hay. Been meaning to come into town for almost a week now, but one thing after another. You know how it is."
"That I do," Andy agreed and Stan Rankin nodded.
"What ya think of the Farraday place?" Will asked Chase.
"Nice."
"Nice? They've got one of the most prosperous ranches this side of Fort Worth." Will chuckled. "Burt tells me that with Andy here helping out you'll be able to do some riding with the Farraday boys."
"Burt?" Chase didn't remember mentioning that to anyone but Andy this morning.
"You know," Andy coaxed him, "owns the hardware store."
"Yes, of course."
"If you bring your truck around the back, we'll load that hay for you."
"Sure thing." Will turned to Chase. "Grace and Becky are over at the Sisters picking up the wedding dress."
Chase nodded, not sure if Burt had shared that tidbit as well, or if Mr. Berkner had come by the information some other way.
"She's a nice girl, that Grace. A little wild when she was younger, but nice girl."
"Yes," Chase agreed, careful not to say too much.
"But don't you let the stories of that dog and her brothers push you into asking the girl out. A man's got a right to stay single if he wants."
Chase opted for just nodding again. Was the man making a lucky guess or did he somehow know that the stray wolfdog had flattened Grace out in his store? Surely the man was just talking in generalities.
"Well," the man tapped his hand on the counter, "I'd better get my hay. Nice meeting you and remember what I said about Grace. Don't you let no dog rush you into anything."
"Thanks." Chase raised his hand in a lame effort at a wave.
"I'll walk you out," Stan Rankin said to other man. "I gotta ride around and get my order of horse feed."
As the door closed behind the two men, Chase heard Rankin ask the other one, "Sounds like your money's on city boy. I put ten on the dog."
Rooted in place, Chase stared at the door. Did two people he had never met before really know that much about his life? What was it Grace had said to him? The whole town will know what time your alarm goes off and the expiration date on that carton of milk in your fridge. Apparently, she hadn't been kidding. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. If folks were going to keep that close tabs on him, he'd have to make sure not to let his milk spoil. Then he was going to have to find out who was running the pool and get in on the bet. He just wasn't sure which side he was rooting for. Yet.
Grace Page 5
