"I don't know." Grace paused, tugging at a blade of grass. "My brothers tell me it took Dad a long time to get over my mom's death. I'm not sure I ever have."
"How long ago did she die?" The way Grace's hand froze and her expression dimmed, he wished he hadn't asked.
"She got an infection after I was born. I know it's not the same as with you. I have no memories of my mother at all. Only what others have told me." Her head shot up. "Don't get me wrong. I love my Aunt Eileen, she couldn't have been a better mother to me, but somehow I still miss my mom."
Grace didn't need to say anything more, he got it. He'd had his father all of his life and yet in many ways, he too missed the dad he hadn't had. "I'm sorry." Really sorry.
In the quiet of pasture the sound of an engine carried to them before he could see where it came from.
Grace looked up in the direction of the soft roar. "That's probably DJ."
Pushing to his feet, Chase glanced up and hoped it wasn't trouble. Turning back to Grace, he took a step in her direction.
Grace sprang up at the same moment he leaned forward to offer a hand and her feet scrambled beneath her, nearly toppling her over.
"Whoa." Moving a half step closer, he wrapped his hands around her arms to steady her. The only problem was she now stood stock still only inches away from him. Close enough for him to feel the warmth of her breath and count the beats of her heart.
A sane man would have let go. Taken a step back. Ignored the fire in her deep blue eyes. Remembered the engine fast approaching. What was left of his mind knew that. Understood that. Too bad his mouth had a mind of its own.
Chapter Eleven
One side of Grace's mind screamed danger danger while the other side thought oh hell yeah. Before she could make any conscious decision to back up or fall forward, soft firm lips danced over hers, pressing, easing, fanning heat and teasing yearning with a skill that had her arms around his neck and her body snug against his, eager to learn more.
A soft moan floated between them—hers, his, who knew. Air rumbled around her and the sane side of her mind reminded her that the rumble wasn't the air but an approaching car. Her brother's approaching car. And fool that she was, she still didn't want to stop.
"Grace," Chase murmured against her lips. Releasing his hold on her hips, he took a step back and sucked in a long deep breath. "I probably shouldn't have done that, but…" A slow lazy grin tilted the corners of his mouth upward in a crooked smile. A very sexy crooked smile. "I'm not going to apologize."
If she'd been a peacock she would have spread her feathers and strutted across the field.
A police department SUV pulled up behind the trailer and DJ hopped out. "What’s going on?"
For a split second panic at being caught by her older brother in the arms—really nice arms—of a man she barely knew, slammed her in the rib cage. The casual way her brother waltzed over told Grace he hadn't seen, or noticed, the kiss. And a good thing, too. She hadn't a clue what the hell was going on between her and Chase; explaining it to someone else would be more than difficult. Right about now redirecting her thoughts to potential cattle rustling struck her as just fine.
Chase was the first to turn and face DJ. "Over by the fence."
It took a couple of beats for Grace to get with the program and follow the other two back to where they'd found evidence of a potential intruder. It wasn't like her to be left a bit stunned by a mere kiss, but stunned she was. And even more surprising to her was that she wanted to do it again.
Over by the fence, more quickly than she would have thought, her brother scooped up the cigarette butts into an evidence bag and the three took another look around the area for more signs of two-footed life. With no other indication of trespassers around, DJ was as hesitant as they were to presume this was somehow related to the few missing cows. "I haven't any idea how long these butts have been here," DJ said, "and I'm not willing to take a wild guess either."
To Grace it was obvious they couldn't have been out in the open air for all that long or they'd have been more deteriorated, but even with the lack of rain in recent years, she wasn't willing to take any guesses. Minding her own business and keeping her thoughts to herself, she loaded the horses while DJ gave the place one last look over.
"Nothing else," DJ practically sighed.
Grace set a hand on her brother’s arm. “Maybe it’s nothing more than some kids finding a quiet place to sneak a few drags.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t look all that convinced.
“What about Dale? Any more news on him?”
“Still stable but it’s been long enough that the doctors are more hopeful.”
“Good.” Grace stepped back with a smile. “Good.”
Whether it was the cigarettes or Dale that kept concern etched on his face, Grace didn’t know.
DJ started for his SUV. "I'll follow y'all back to the ranch. I want to talk to Finn. Connor too." Turning, he paused by Chase. "Want to ride back with me?"
Chase cut her a sideways glance. She could almost read his mind weighing the pros and cons to not riding back to the ranch in the same confined space with her. She, on the other hand, had nothing to consider. She was delighted to have a little time to clear her head of the kiss and the tingly sensations still humming inside her. "Go on, you two can have a male bonding moment."
DJ merely rolled his eyes seconds before slipping on his shades and looking all police chief on her.
Driving back to the ranch alone, all the different things she and Chase had said and mentioned over the last few days sprinted through her mind, tumbling together and one by one taking a backseat to the memory of a few minutes ago. If she couldn't shake the feel of Chase's mouth on hers when he was nowhere near her, she didn't have the foggiest idea how the heck she was supposed to ignore the vivid memory when they once again stood side by side. And in front of her aunt no less. A woman with instincts sharper than a mama bear and a dangerous penchant for matchmaking. By the time she pulled up to the ranch Grace had decided that decisions were highly overrated. There was something to be said for go-with-the-flow and since it looked like this city boy was good and countrified, she was going to do just that. Go with the flow.
Keys in hand, she'd set one foot outside the truck when DJ appeared at her side. "Looks like Finn's in the barn. If you want to head inside with Hannah, I can take care of your mount."
"Is Dad inside too?"
DJ nodded.
"Y'all are impossible." She hopped out of the truck and slammed the door behind her. "You don't want Aunt Eileen to know there's a potential problem with rustlers?"
"All we know is the cattle count is slightly off. No sense in worrying her."
She stopped toe to toe with her brother. "Aunt Eileen is not a frail flower. All of you did the same thing when Brittany landed on your doorstep. She handled the news just fine and she can handle this." Grace stabbed at her finger into her brother's chest. "I'll let you take care of the horses and teach Mr. Feed Store how we do it, but when you're done, everyone back in the house to discuss this with Aunt Eileen."
The way DJ's jaw tightened, she was fully aware he didn't want to, but the resignation in his eyes told her he knew damn well she was right. This wasn't turn of the last century. Women did not need protection from reality.
"Agreed," she blurted out, tired of waiting for a response.
DJ didn't utter a sound, he merely nodded and walked away with Chase.
"Macho hot shots," she mumbled under her breath, stomping onto the porch. Sucking in a deep calming breath, she turned the knob and softening her steps, searched out the folks in the kitchen.
"Oh, lord I didn't think about that." Elbow on the table, two fingers rubbing her temple, Connor's wife Catherine sat staring at a pile of papers.
Hannah pulled a nearby chair out and slid into the seat, large mug in hand. "The logistics can be a nightmare."
"So I see," Catherine muttered.
Hannah blew over the rim of the mug.
"Then you have the issue of temperament."
"Whose temperament?" Aunt Eileen came out of the pantry carrying several cans. "Not Connor. There's no better man to work with, human or beast."
"The horses." Hannah looked up. "Just because a horse is a docile ride doesn't mean it will be a good therapy horse. Especially for the physically handicapped. Some horses are too sensitive. They slow up or change their gait so the rider never has to fully use all their muscles for balance—"
"Which defeats the purpose." Catherine let out another sigh. “Connor and I have been working on state-of-the-art facilities for children with physical disabilities, but we failed to consider parents."
"Or caretakers," Hannah added.
Aunt Eileen stood with a can opener in one hand and a can in the other. "How did none of us consider that?"
"Don't be too hard on yourself. Most folks who haven't dealt with a disability underestimate what's involved."
"Like running a non-profit. I anticipated it would be a damn nuisance to set up but considered the objective well worth the effort. Turns out running it is a legal morass that will suck away time I don't have. And now we can't even do what we set out to do."
"Why not?" Grace knew Catherine was a damn good litigator and smart enough to work out the challenges of running a non-profit, but wasn't quite following the current problem.
"Equine therapy camps for low income children and teens with issues is a great idea for a day camp," Hannah explained, "but not so easy for a sleepover camp."
"I think we're going to have to rethink this." Catherine pressed her lips tightly together and, still staring at the plans, shook her head ever so slightly. "I just wanted to help more kids like Stacey. Kids whose parents are losing hope with traditional therapy. Or who haven't any hope at all."
"Stacey didn't have a physical disability," Grace stated the obvious.
Hannah nodded her head. "My point exactly."
Silence hung loudly in the air. Staring at the three women by the table, Aunt Eileen had stopped opening cans. Hannah held onto her mug, but made no effort to continue drinking. Focused on the plans in front of her, Catherine looked absolutely miserable. And Grace had nothing productive to add. It was as if she and the others were watching Catherine's dream crumbling. Suddenly, what to do about a little—okay, a knock your socks off—kiss in the middle of a field from a hot guy who wanted all the things she'd spent seven years avoiding, didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.
***
"Well at least the expression ‘ridden hard and put away wet’ makes a hell of a lot more sense to me now." Chase hadn't had even the slightest clue about all that was involved in caring for a horse after going for a ride. A typical city guy, he'd expected the reverse of taking the animal out. Saddle it up to go for a ride and take the saddle off after bringing him home. Nowhere in his expectations had walking, brushing, feeding, watering, or cleaning out hooves come into play. Though he had learned that Grace’s and his horse didn't need walk-off time in the paddock since the riding along the fence line had been slow and easy, apparently that was not the case with Finn and his father's horse. Their rides had worked up a sweat and were still damp when they returned to the barns. Not wanting the animals to develop any of the things explained to him, from joint inflammation to colic and bacterial infections, the horses were walking it off much like a runner after a race.
"Now what?" Lips pressed tightly, eyes pensive, Sean Farraday shifted his gaze from the evidence bag to his police chief son.
"I send the butts to the lab for analysis and we see what comes back." DJ cast his glance from brother to father and back. "While I'm waiting I'll have a little chat with some other ranchers, maybe ride a line or two myself nearest the main roads. See if I spot anything else suspicious."
Bobbing his head, the senior Farraday slapped his son on the shoulder. "Sounds good. You let us know if you want some help with that fence riding."
"Thanks, but not yet. I don't want to alarm anyone."
"You know, Ken Brady mentioned something to me a couple of weeks ago at the café. It's what got us looking closer."
"I remember. I'm going to start with him."
"So who’s going to break the news to Aunt Eileen?" Finn asked.
"Not yet," Sean said softly, shaking his head. "I want to know more before we get her riled up."
Chase almost felt like pulling up a chair to sit and watch the rest of the conversation. If Grace had been his sister, he'd be arguing her case about now. The fact that he agreed with her being irrelevant, what he wasn't so sure of was if DJ agreed or not. Or what Finn thought. But he did know so far the score was one to Grace and one to her father.
"About that," DJ cleared his throat. "Grace doesn't want to hide this from her. I think if we don't mention it, Grace will."
"She's right," Finn shrugged. "Aunt Eileen is not a daft old woman nor a naïve youngster. I don't want to be on the receiving end of another tongue lashing when she finds out we kept something this important from her."
"Besides," DJ addressed his dad, already hinting at whose side he'd be on. "So far we aren't sure of anything. There's no imminent danger. No threat to Aunt Eileen or anyone up here at the house, but there is enough suspicion for her to keep her eyes and ears open."
Sean Farraday shook his head. "Knowing her, she'd mount a horse and go hunting down all the fence lines on her own."
"And that's a bad thing why?" Finn crossed his arms.
Chase was loving this familial dialogue. Growing up an only child, he'd had no experience with this, and frankly none of his friends had families this down to earth. He wondered if Grace appreciated having a family this close knit. Or had any idea how much her brothers respected her to fight on her side. A telling gesture considering she was the youngest, and a girl to boot. Not that it seemed to matter out here. So far he'd been given the distinct impression that equality was far less of an issue in the rural west, where everyone shared and shared alike, than in the city where folks were battling about the glass ceiling.
"Finn's right," DJ put in. "You let Grace ride the line alone today."
"Excuse me," Chase raised a finger at DJ, fishing for a little levity, "she wasn't exactly alone."
"You know how to use a gun?" DJ deadpanned.
Chase shook his head.
"Then she might as well have been alone." DJ turned back to his father. "What's it going to be?"
Thin muscles at the edge of the older man's jawline twitched with discontent. The decision wasn't coming easy.
"You know we'll stand by your decision, Dad," Finn spoke up, "but I do think Grace is right. Aunt Eileen doesn't need protecting from life."
Their father blew out a long sigh. Chase was pretty sure he saw the man's muscles tense with effort. "Very well. Y'all are old enough to have your say. Three to one seems pretty clear."
"You sure?" DJ asked and his brother nodded.
"Yep," their dad sighed. "I may not like it, but that doesn't mean y'all aren't right."
And with something that simple, the men walked out of the barn toward the house. Chase's mother wouldn't believe him, but he just might have found his Ponderosa family in Mayberry after all.
Chapter Twelve
From where she stood in the kitchen Grace could see the men coming back from the barn. Her heart had no business kicking into fast gear. It was only one kiss. And the fact that she so wanted to do it again was the biggest reason why she shouldn't. She had a plan. A good plan. Though it might need some tweaking. Chase Prescott was too damn tempting for her own good. Sticking around the ranch for a few months to study for the bar was looking less and less like a good idea. She'd better let her roommate know she'd be coming home after the wedding to study.
"Oh, dear. I think he's going to leave." Aunt Eileen turned off the water, grabbed a dish rag to wipe her hands, shuffled across the kitchen and threw open the back door. "You're not letting our guest leave without supper, are you?"
An expression akin to t
he day after a stock market crash slipped from her dad's face and a soft chuckle and sweet smile took its place. "Of course not Eileen."
Chase looked to her father as though that was the first he'd heard of staying for supper, but when he turned back toward the house, he was smiling as broadly as her dad. The back door creaked open wider and one by one the men filed in, each hanging their hats on a hook except for Chase. He glanced at the hook and she could almost see the wheels of his mind turning. How stupid would he look in a Stetson? Unfortunately, the answer rolling around her head wasn't the expected, but instead, damn hot.
"What are all the glum faces about?" Sean headed straight to the fridge and poured his customary after work glass of milk. For years he'd drunk the stuff due to ulcers. By now Grace figured he drank it out of sheer habit than for medicinal purposes.
"Just a few setbacks," Catherine answered. "We're going to have to rework the foundational idea for the therapy camp."
"Rework how?" Finn pulled a beer from the mudroom refrigerator.
"Accommodating handicapped children and their parents or caregivers is going to be an expensive challenge."
DJ accepted the beer his brother handed him, his eyes slightly narrowed. "So you're thinking what? Emotional disabilities? Autism?"
"Sort of." Hannah waved her hand back and forth. "Autistic children rarely deal well with changes. Just sending them to a strange city with people they don't know could be severely traumatic."
DJ nodded. "Of course. I hadn't even thought about that. Definitely not a good thing."
"See what I mean?" Catherine gathered all the papers and slid them into a folder.
DJ took a long swallow and the set the bottle on the counter behind him. "What about adults with PTSD?"
Catherine's head shot up.
"Marines," Hannah volunteered. "We work with quite a few veterans. Not just PTSD. Lots come home with a variety of injuries that can be helped by equine therapy."
For the first time since Grace had come through the door, Catherine's expression regained a flicker of hope.
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