Reunited with the Cowboy

Pregnant and running scared, Grace Thomas turns to the one man she knows she can count on: rancher Brody Martin. The charismatic Texan promises to protect her, but she knows he’ll never forgive her for breaking his heart and taking up with his former best friend. Given Brody’s own unsettled past, Grace understands that the guarded cowboy needs time to trust her again. Yet as he helps her prepare for the baby’s arrival, Grace knows she’s found the perfect father for her child. But can she dare to dream of a second chance with the man she’s never stopped loving?

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, Brody.”

“You’ve said that before and I get it. But I’m not going back.” He’d believed she’d be in his life forever. But then she’d walked away.

“I can’t undo what I did last year.” She touched her belly. “I can’t undo this. I also can’t give this baby up. She’s mine and I won’t let her down, even though I seem to be letting everyone else down these days.”

“That’s the most important thing, Grace. Be there for him, and if you do that, you’ve done everything right.”

“She,” Grace said as she walked away. “My baby is a girl.”

“Nope, that’s a boy you’re carrying, Grace Thomas. I’ll eat my hat if it isn’t,” he called out after her.

The thinnest laugh carried back to him as she walked into the department store. He watched her go, thinking back to when he’d first met her. She’d had it all, but she’d wanted to spend a year being a cowgirl.

He’d loved her fearlessness. And then he’d just plain loved her.

He still loved her, but he was determined not to let it show.

BRENDA MINTON lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday school teacher, coffee addict and sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Mills & Boon started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true, and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.

The Rancher’s

Second Chance

Brenda Minton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope.

—Romans 5:3–4

To the readers, for your many prayers

and messages of encouragement.

The best journey is a journey with friends.

To Melissa Endlich.

I hope you know how much I appreciate you, your insight, your encouragement.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The pounding on the front door roused Brody Martin from the deepest, most pain-free sleep he’d had in a good long while. He groaned, covering his face with his arm. No way was he going to the door. No way in the world was he waking up to go work cattle with Duke, his older brother, when it was miserable and pouring down rain outside.

He’d prefer dry and miserable inside to wet and miserable outside. It wasn’t worth it. Ask his joints, they’d agree. At one month short of twenty-seven he felt as if those cattle they worked had trampled all over him.

Whoever had been at the door had stopped pounding, and he closed his eyes, ready to go back to sleep. The next thing he knew someone was outside his window yelling at him to wake up. When a hand hit the window, the dog came out from under the blankets, barking, ready to defend Brody and the house. Brody pulled the dog back and ordered it to hush. The white mop bared its teeth and crouched next to him.

“Brody, you’ve got to let me in. He’s going to kill me.”

It was a female voice, muffled through the glass, but obviously in distress.

No self-respecting man could ignore a statement like that. He shot out of bed and hurried as fast as his overused knees could take him to the front door. The dog raced ahead, barking. When he yanked open the door, the woman standing on the front step of the trailer, shivering in the cold rain, fell into the house.

She was on her knees, sobbing, and Brody didn’t quite know what to do with her. Or if he wanted anything to do with her now that he knew who had woken him from a sound sleep. He pulled the door closed, gathering up sympathy as he did. He really wasn’t a heartless cur. He just protected his heart a little better these days.

He managed to get down on the floor next to her, pushing aside the crazy white mop of a dog that crouched on its belly, licking her hand. When he lifted her face to get a good look, he let out a few words that would have gotten his mouth washed out with soap not too many years back. A purple mark on her cheek and a black eye marred her pale skin. Tears streamed down her cheeks. He’d known it wouldn’t be good for her when she’d left him for Lincoln. He hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

He pulled her close, gently touching the dark marks that marred her pretty face. He brushed short blond hair back from her eyes and waited. He might not be good for much, but he was good at waiting.

It took her a few minutes to calm down. As he stroked her hair, her breathing returned to normal and the tears dried.

“Lincoln?” he asked as she pulled away, brushing a hand across her eyes to dry the last of her tears. Lincoln Carter, his once-upon-a-time roommate, best friend and traveling partner. And the man who couldn’t keep his hands off another man’s woman.

Grace Thomas. Until last year, she’d been the woman Brody thought he might marry. Then less than a week after she’d broken things off with him, she’d been seen stepping out with Lincoln.

A real man didn’t do that to a friend. But then a real man didn’t hit a woman, either. That was a mighty big strike against Lincoln Carter.

“Grace?”

“I knew his temper was bad. I shouldn’t have...”

“Don’t make excuses for him.” Brody shook his head, thinking he’d heard it all when one of the toughest females he knew had found herself in a situation such as this and then tried to let the man off the hook with an excuse. It just went to prove that it could happen to anyone. Grace had a college degree, an educated and respectable family and backbone.

Lincoln could manipulate a snake out of its skin and make the serpent believe it was being done a favor.

“I’m not making excuses,” Grace sobbed. “I just knew and I shouldn’t have pushed. I shouldn’t have...”

“I keep hearing you say you shouldn’t have, but what about him, Grace? What about this?” He touched her cheek, barely making contact with the bruise, yet she still flinched. Her dark brown eyes flickered with pain and she looked away.

“I know.” Her voice trembled on the acknowledgment.

“He shouldn’t have touched you, and I’ll make him sorry...”

He shook off the threat. It wasn’t his place. Instead, he reached for the coffee table and pushed himself to his feet, grimacing at the pain that shot through his knees.

He extended a hand to the woman kneeling on his floor and she took it, allowing him to help her up. She was a tiny thing, a tough-as-nails cowgirl. She had a lot of sense, except when it came to Lincoln. He still couldn’t figure out why or how she’d gotten tangled up with the other man.

“I’m not making excuses anymore, Brody.”

He didn’t say anything, just led her to the kitchen that connected to the living room of his trailer. He pulled a bag of corn out of the freezer and handed it to her. She thanked him quietly and held it to her eye and cheek.

Because he didn’t know what else to do, he started a pot of coffee, then took eggs out of the fridge. A quick look inside the appliance and he also found bacon.

“Are you hungry?”

She nodded. She’d taken a seat at the bistro-style table that he’d bought because it fit the small space in the single-wide mobile home. The trailer was his personal space on the Circle M Ranch, a ranch that had been in the Martin family for more than a hundred years.

He’d had the trailer set on a foundation a good walk from the barn and from either of his brothers. He wanted to be here, but he didn’t want to be under their thumbs. Because Duke and Jake had helped to raise him after their mom skipped out on them some twenty years ago, they thought they still had the right to tell him how to live his life.

They didn’t get that he needed space.

He’d really hoped once Jake married Breezy and got down to the business of raising the orphaned twin nieces they shared, and had a baby of his own on the way, he would be too busy to involve himself in Brody’s life. It hadn’t worked out that way. Now both Jake and his wife, Breezy, were in Brody’s business. And then came Duke and his soon-to-be wife, Oregon. He couldn’t forget their daughter, Lilly. Thinking of his precocious twelve-year-old niece, Brody had to smile. Family wasn’t all bad. It just meant not having a lot of time to himself.

If his sister, Samantha, would come home, she could pull some outrageous stunt and get them all off his back.

Brody found a skillet and placed it on the back burner of the stove. He started frying the bacon and then he cracked a few eggs in a bowl, stirred in a little milk and a handful of cheese. He couldn’t cook much, but he could make decent bacon and scrambled eggs. Toast wasn’t too far out of his league, either.

“When did it start?” he asked the woman sitting at the table.

“Almost from the beginning. At first it wasn’t like this. A bruise on my arm or wrist, grabbing me a little too tightly. He was careful that Aunt Jacki didn’t see.”

He nodded, because he didn’t know what to say. Grace had been living with her aunt Jacki when he met her. It had been her summer to find herself, she’d told him. Jacki Thomas had helped her do that, he guessed. As far as he could tell, Jacki was the black sheep of the upstanding Thomas family.

“And you thought he was someone you wanted to keep dating?” Brody couldn’t help but ask, knowing it sounded more like a snarl than a civilized question.

When she didn’t answer, he chanced a look at her. She wiped at her eyes and nodded. “Oh, Brody, I’m so sorry.”

Not much he could say to that, so he shrugged and went back to cooking. If he spent too much time looking at her, he’d get all stupid and heartsick again. He’d start thinking about that ring he’d never given her. Start remembering all the dreams he’d had for the two of them. That had been his mistake, making plans when she hadn’t been interested in anything long-term. Not with him anyway.

Young and stupid. Yep, that description fit him perfectly. If he gave her a chance, no doubt she’d apologize. Make excuses for why she’d left him. And he’d let her off the hook. The bacon sizzled in the pan, the aroma waking him up a little. He poured two cups of coffee and set one in front of her.

“Have you called your folks?” he asked as he headed back to the skillet and the bacon.

“No. They’re out of the country. They’re on a medical mission trip in South America for the next year.”

He kept his back to her, his attention focused on the pan. “What about your grandparents? Or Aunt Jacki?”

“Aunt Jacki went to Florida for a few months. I didn’t want to be there alone when Lincoln came looking for me. And my grandparents went to Africa for a month with a group from their church.”

“What do you want from me, Grace?”

She didn’t answer. When he turned away from the stove she was staring at the floor, her shoulders slumped forward. The dog had managed to get her attention and now slept in her lap. Brody’s heart caved a little.

He had a hard time being strong around women, especially this woman. And weak was the last thing he needed to be when it came to Grace Thomas.

“Grace, I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want.”

“I need a place to stay. Somewhere he can’t find me. I tried breaking up with him a few months ago but he keeps calling. He won’t stay away from Jacki’s.” Her eyes closed and tears slid down her cheeks.

“He isn’t going to come after you, is he? You’re gone and he’s probably feeling fortunate that you didn’t press charges.”

“I did press charges. He’s in jail. And when he gets out he’ll be furious.”

Brody smiled, imagining his old friend in the slammer. “Well, that ought to teach him. Good for you, Gracie.”

“You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t seem right to call you that once you decided to leave me for my best friend.”

He fixed her a plate of cheesy scrambled eggs and bacon. When he put the plate in front of her she turned green, covered her mouth with her hand and ran down the hall to the bathroom.

He had a real bad feeling.

* * *

The nausea eased, and Grace leaned back against the closed door of the bathroom. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She had made some bad choices in her life, really bad choices. But Lincoln had been the worst ever.

She didn’t know how she’d become this person, forgetting herself, what she wanted out of life and who she had always known herself to be. She’d lost her way. That was what her granddad would say. Her life had been easy, smooth sailing. And then Lincoln had ensnared her.

A light rap vibrated the door. “You okay in there?”

“Oh, yeah. Wonderful.” She stood and turned on cold water to splash her face. He knocked again. She reached for a towel, wiped away the dampness, then stood there with the towel against her cheeks looking at the stranger in the mirror. A stranger with her eyes but with marks left by a man who had no right to do this, to take the best part of her and turn her into someone she no longer recognized.

She shouldn’t have stayed in the relationship. She should have walked away the first time. If anyone had asked her a year ago if she’d ever let a man hit her, she would have told them she’d make sure he regretted it if he tried. But Lincoln had hit her. More than once.

For a while she’d stayed in the relationship because Lincoln had a way of convincing her he loved her and that she could change him. And then she’d stayed because she’d been afraid to leave. He’d convinced her that the abuse was her fault and that she needed to change.

When she finally had walked away, he hadn’t been willing to end things. Tonight she’d made the mistake of opening the door and he’d pushed his way in.

She was going to find herself again. Calling the police had been the first step in that process.

“Want me to feed the eggs to the dog?” Brody asked through the paper-thin door. She could imagine him out there, forehead against the door, hand on the knob.

“No, I’m good. Please don’t let the dog have my breakfast.”

She opened the door, trying hard to avoid looking at the man standing there so casually, leaning against the wood-paneled wall. While his stance said casual, he would never fit that description. At six feet with blue eyes that tripped a girl up and dark hair that she knew to be soft beneath her fingers, Brody Martin could be lethal. His cowboy charm fooled a girl. No, he fooled a lot of people with that good-ole-boy act.

He shifted away from the wall and his steady gaze held her in place. She looked away at first, her hand going to her cheek. Feather soft his hand touched her arm. She flinched but didn’t mean to.

“You okay?”

She nodded but couldn’t form the words to assure him. If she spoke out loud, she’d cry. If he said anything, she’d cry harder. If he touched her, the dam would definitely break, and she’d probably never be able to get control again.

He gave her a long look and kept his distance.

“Let’s eat before that mutt gets our eggs. She loves ’em.” He motioned her to walk ahead of him.

She poured herself a fresh cup of the coffee. Now that her stomach had settled, she thought she could keep it down. She needed it. She’d been awake all night. Through the kitchen window she could see that it was morning now. Not a sunny morning, but dreary like the night that had just passed. The world was gray and a steady rain fell.

Brody walked up behind her. He took a plate off the counter and handed it to her. She watched him limp to the fridge. He didn’t say anything. He pulled out a jar of salsa and limped back to the table.

“Your knee isn’t better?” she asked him as she sat.

He sat across from her. “Nope.”

“You’ve been like that since the surgery or before. You’re worse now than you were when...”

He looked up, his blue eyes accusing. She glanced away, unsure how to continue.

“Yeah, there are a lot of ways I’m worse off than I was then. Thanks.”

“I didn’t leave you for Lincoln.” She at least owed him that explanation.

“You broke up with me, and the next week you were with Lincoln.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes, thinking back to all that had come between them. Her fears of getting too serious when her time in Stephenville was limited. His overwhelming need to keep her close. She hadn’t been ready for his kind of serious.

She took a bite of egg. The dog came to sit on the floor next to her. The white bit of fluff stood on its hind legs and begged. She tossed it a piece of egg.

“Where did you get the dog?” she asked, hoping to ease the tension between them. “A Maltese? She isn’t really the kind of dog I pictured a bull-riding cowboy to have.”

“I’m not a bull rider anymore. I’m just a guy living on a ranch, running some cattle with my brothers.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. She knew he’d wanted to be a world champion. She knew about dreams and how they drove a person. She’d dreamed of seeing a little more of the country before settling down into the rest of her life.

He’d had other dreams he’d shared with her. He’d wanted to find the mother who’d walked out on them. He didn’t want to be a man who gave up the way his dad had. He rarely talked about how his mom’s abandonment had affected him, but it was there, not so far beneath the surface. He had a hard time trusting.

He cleared his throat and tossed the dog a piece of bacon.

“I got the dog at the grocery store in Austin. She was thin and her hair was matted. The guy who had her wanted twenty bucks. I couldn’t leave her.” It was easier for him to talk about the dog than about bull riding.

That unwillingness to leave a stray was why she’d come here. Because as hard as he tried to be coldhearted, he wasn’t. He couldn’t leave behind a stray. He would never leave a friend to suffer.

“Brody, for what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

“I’m sure you are.” He gave her a pointed look, his gaze lingering on her bruised face.

“I’ll go. After I eat, I’ll leave.”

He slid his plate to the side. “Where would you go, Grace? Your parents are out of the country. What’s your plan?”

She shrugged, aching inside because she didn’t have a plan. She’d taken off in the middle of the night knowing she needed to put miles between herself and Lincoln. She hadn’t really planned on coming here. But when she’d put her car in gear, she’d found herself on the road to Martin’s Crossing.

“We’ll figure something out.”

With that he got up, cleared the plates and fed the scraps to the dog that was dancing around the kitchen. On hind legs, her toenails painted pink and a bow pinned between her ears, she was the last dog on earth Grace would ever expect Brody Martin to own.

For a long while Brody busied himself at the sink washing dishes. He kept his back to her, his attention focused on the plates he washed and the window over the sink. He probably expected Lincoln to show up anytime. But she’d taken the battery out of his truck, so it would take him a while.

A second wave of nausea hit, taking her by surprise. Grace ran for the bathroom and this time she didn’t shut the door. As she lost her breakfast, Brody appeared at her side. He didn’t say anything. A moment later she heard water running, then felt a cool cloth settle over the back of her neck.

Brody’s hand rested on her shoulder. He didn’t stay at her side, though. She heard his booted footsteps going down the hall, away from her. She pulled the cloth off her neck and wiped her face free of tears.

When she returned to the kitchen he was sitting at the table, his leg propped up on the empty chair. He had a cup of coffee in his hands and the dog on his lap.

“So how far along are you?” His gaze brushed down her body, lingering on the loose button-up shirt she’d pulled on over her T-shirt.

Grace leaned against the counter and tried to shift her focus from his face, from the disappointment she would see. Emotions clogged her throat, making it hard to speak. She rubbed hands down cheeks that felt warm and took a deep breath.

“About four months,” she admitted, shifting her focus from the living room with worn leather furniture to the man sitting in front of her.

“I see.” Brody brushed a hand through his dark hair. “I guess he knows and isn’t too happy?”

“No, he isn’t.” It hurt too much to think about the clinic Lincoln had driven her to in another state. They’d sat in the parking lot for an hour as he’d tried to talk her in to making a choice she didn’t want to make. In the end she’d refused. He’d been angry, but he hadn’t seen a way to force her into the building.

She’d ended their relationship that day. But Lincoln kept coming back.

“We need to find you a place to stay.”

Because he wouldn’t let her stay with him. That went without saying. “Brody, I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

“Me, too.” He said it so quietly that she had to lean in to catch the words. He limped to the living room and grabbed keys and his cell phone off the table. “Let’s go.”

On the way out the door he grabbed his hat, shoving it down tight on his head.

She followed him out the door to his truck. Rain was still coming down, heavy and cool. He opened the passenger side door for her and she slid in. Without asking he reached for the seat belt and pulled it across her lap. As if she was five years old and couldn’t do it for herself.

The movement put them too close, and that was the last thing either of them needed. “I can do it, Brody.”

“Yeah, I guess you can.”

She clicked the seat belt in place and reached to close the door. Just then, a truck came up the drive and parked. Brody limped to the vehicle and his brother Jake got out. The other man studied her for a moment, then resumed his conversation with Brody. She’d met Brody’s brothers a time or two at different events. She doubted they knew much about her, other than her name.

The two men continued to talk, acting as if they didn’t notice the rain that soaked their clothes, dripped off their hats.

Jake Martin said something else to Brody. Brody raised a hand in a wave that became a salute. Grace knew the brothers were close. They’d raised each other and saved this ranch together. She also knew that having two older brothers sometimes got under Brody’s skin.

Finally, he joined her in the truck, grumbling about older brothers who should stay out of his business. He jerked off his hat, tossed it in the backseat of his truck and brushed a hand through damp hair that formed loose curls. The tan skin of his face, stretched taught over lean cheeks and a strong jawline, was damp. He raised his arm and used his sleeve to wipe away the moisture.

“I don’t want to cause you problems with your brothers.”

“You aren’t causing me any problems. They can’t think of me as an adult.”

She knew better. “No, they can’t stand to see you hurt by the woman who cheated on you.”

“They don’t know about you. About us.” He started the truck and eased out of the driveway. “I think I know where you can stay.”

He didn’t expand on that. Details weren’t Brody’s thing. She’d just have to trust him. Who else did she have?

And right now she had someone pretty tiny trusting her to make the right choices for them both.

Chapter Two

They drove to town in the pouring rain he’d wanted to avoid. The wipers swished in a continuous effort to keep the windshield clear. Brody slid a quick glance at the woman sitting next to him. She’d been quiet since leaving the ranch. Now he knew why. She’d fallen sound asleep, her hand on her slightly rounded belly.

He shook his head, trying not to think of the baby or the bruises on her face. The first made him a little queasy. The second made him so angry he couldn’t see straight.

Even after what she’d done to him, he still cared. That made him a little bit mad at her, a lot mad at himself. He could help her out. He could forgive. But he wasn’t going to let himself get tangled up with her again.

It didn’t take long to reach their destination. Brody pulled to a stop in front of Oregon’s All Things shop. Across the street at Duke’s No Bar and Grill the lights were on and the open sign was lit up. A handful of cars and trucks were parked out front, people getting an early start on their day with breakfast at his older brother’s restaurant.

After a few minutes the front door of the diner opened. Duke, tall and imposing and a little scary if a guy didn’t know him, stepped out on the front porch. He greeted the few people who were brave enough to sit outside under the awning on a rainy morning. When he saw Brody he nodded and headed down the steps.

Brody got out of the truck and met his brother on the sidewalk in front of Oregon’s. Duke and Oregon were going to be married in December. She was living in a cottage on the ranch while Duke completed remodeling the old farm house that had belonged to their grandfather. Their daughter, Lilly, bounced from house to house, wanting to spend time with both of them.

“What’s going on?” Duke peered in the tinted windows of the truck. “Is that Grace Thomas?”

“Yeah.” Brody held out his hand for the keys Duke had in his hand.

“Not so quick, little brother.” Duke took a step closer to the truck. “What happened?”

“Lincoln.” The one word brought anger to the surface all over again.

“Is that why you came home last year?” Duke tossed the keys in the air, then caught them. He didn’t take his eyes off Brody. Brody did his best not to squirm.

“Part of the reason. She needs a place to stay.”

“Somewhere that Lincoln can’t find her?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t think he’d bother looking here.” Brody didn’t want to waste time discussing it. He wanted to haul her into Oregon’s, then get back to the ranch and get to work. For the first time in a long while he’d prefer Jake to Duke. He’d prefer all day in the saddle to five minutes alone with Grace.

“I don’t know if I want you putting Lilly and Oregon in danger.”

“Duke, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Yeah, I get that. But Lincoln is going to come looking for her, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, I reckon, but he won’t think to look here. He’ll come to my place.”

Duke headed up the sidewalk with the key. “Brody, you can’t save the whole world.”

He didn’t want to save the whole world. But saving Grace was something he had to do. He couldn’t turn her away. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t care.

“Doesn’t she have family she can turn to?” Duke asked as he unlocked the back door of Oregon’s, which led to the small apartment at the rear of the shop.

“They’re all out-of-pocket right now. Parents and grandparents are in the mission field and her aunt is in Florida.”

“Gotcha.” Duke flipped on lights and turned on the air conditioner. “I hate to ask, but are you sure you want to do this?”

“I don’t have a choice.” But if he was being honest with himself, getting tied in with Grace was the last thing he wanted.

“Right, okay.” Duke didn’t question him further. He went upstairs and came back with a blanket and a pillow. “I’d put her on the sofa for now.”

Brody agreed. He walked out the door and down the sidewalk to his truck. She was still sleeping. She’d pulled her legs up in the seat and her arms hugged her waist. He opened the door and said her name. She murmured something soft that ended on a sigh.

“Great.” He shook his head and reached in to wake her. She leaned toward him, her eyes still closed. Brody slid an arm around her shoulders and another under her legs. There wasn’t much to her. He pulled her against him and stepped out of the truck, holding her tight as he made his way back up the sidewalk.

Blond hair lifted in the breeze and brushed his face. He inhaled the sweet apple scent of her shampoo. She smelled good. And she was easy to hold.

But he’d do himself some favors by remembering who she was, what she had done to him. Duke had the door open as Brody made his way back to the apartment. He shot a big-brother look at the woman in Brody’s arms and then noticed the left leg that Brody couldn’t quite manage to lift. Duke shook his head but didn’t say anything.

Brody eased the sleeping woman to the sofa and covered her with the blanket. She curled on her side and her hand reached out. He stepped back away from her. A good five feet between them made him feel a lot better.

“Well, that looks like one hundred pounds of serious trouble,” Duke chuckled. He pounded Brody on the back. “Go with God, little brother. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

“Thanks.” Brody sat down in the easy chair and propped his booted feet up on the coffee table. He ignored the warning look Duke gave him.

“What are you going to tell Lincoln when he comes looking for her?” Duke leaned against the door frame. He glanced out, toward the restaurant, then back at Brody.

“I guess I’ll tell him she doesn’t want to see him.”

“Well, call if you need anything.” And by anything, he meant help handling Lincoln Carter.

Hard to believe he and Lincoln once had been best friends. They’d both been working toward the same goal: to be world-champion bull riders. They’d won a lot of money. They’d traveled the country together. Last fall it all had changed. One year ago, Brody realized.

“Thanks for the help, Duke. I appreciate it.” Brody tipped up his hat, making steady eye contact with his brother, who still stood in the doorway watching him.

“That’s what family is for. I’d best get back to the breakfast crowd or Ned is going to hunt me down.”

Brody smiled. Ned, short for Nedine, was a big lady with graying auburn hair and a gruff demeanor, but she was all heart. Duke said she was the best waitress in the state. He told her that often. Especially after he’d ruffled her feathers.

Duke left, and Brody leaned back in the chair and tried to relax. Unfortunately he was all too aware of the woman just feet away from him. Aware of her soft breathing. The quiet sob in her sleep. It all pulled him toward her in a way he hadn’t expected and didn’t want. He just should have called the police when she’d shown up. He should send her to friends. There were other people she could have gone to.

So why him?

To torment him, he guessed. The only one who could control that was him. He would take control now before he got too far in. He’d keep her at a distance. He’d remember how it felt to have his heart trampled. Memories resurfaced, and not the ones he wanted. Of course he didn’t remember the night when he’d rounded the corner of his trailer and saw her with Lincoln. Instead, he remembered how it had felt to hold her in his arms.

He rubbed his hands down his cheeks and shook his head. Heartache, pain, disillusionment—he drew all the memories in and let them simmer as he looked at the woman asleep on the couch, her face bruised by the fist of another man.

He waited until he heard Oregon show up, then he made his way into the section of the building where her store was located. Oregon had a talent for making things. She made clothes, hand-painted Christmas ornaments and jewelry. He didn’t know much about her art, but he knew enough to be impressed.

When he walked through the door, she turned from the shelf she was straightening and smiled at him. She was a tiny thing with dark hair and big gray eyes. And her daughter, Lilly, was the spitting image of Duke.

“I heard I have a visitor.” She moved some things around, then settled her serious gaze on him. “You okay?”

“I’m good. She isn’t. Do you mind if she stays here for a while?”

“Of course not.” Oregon pointed to the coffeepot on the shelf behind the counter. “Need a cup?”

“No, I thought I’d go help Jake.”

She narrowed her eyes to study him. “Really?”

“What?”

“You’ve avoided horses like most people avoid snakes.”

He shrugged and didn’t offer explanations. He hadn’t offered an explanation to anyone about anything. He’d lived his life that way, because from the time he’d been a kid everyone had told him to put on his big-boy jeans and get over it. He’d gotten over his mom walking out on them. He’d gotten over his dad drinking his life away. And whatever he was feeling inside, he kept it to himself. For the most part.

As Duke had told him a long time ago, they all had stuff they had to deal with.

“He asked me to help him out today. I know Duke is at the restaurant. I don’t want to leave Jake shorthanded.”

She dropped her gaze to his leg the way Duke had. “Should you be riding?”

“Yep. So can you let her know where I’ve gone?”

“Yes, I’ll let her know.”

Brody started to walk away but stopped. “If a guy with straw-colored hair and a big grin shows up here asking for her, tell him you don’t know who he’s talking about.”

Worry clouded her features. “I will. Brody, are you sure you should...”

“Yeah, I should.”

He walked away before she could guess he wasn’t as sure as he acted.

* * *

Lincoln chased her through the dark, his face a mask of anger and cruelty. Grace ran but her legs were tired and heavy, and it was hard to breathe. Then suddenly they were in a clinic, and Lincoln told her in quiet, reassuring tones that it was the right choice. She shook her head, knowing he was wrong and that she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t take the life growing inside her. It was her baby. Hers to love. Hers to protect.

Grace woke up with a start. She wasn’t in a clinic. She was—she didn’t know where she was. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered being picked up from Brody’s truck, his arms around her. It was the first time she’d felt safe in months.

It was true. A person always wanted what they knew they couldn’t have. She happened to be the poster child for that. She hadn’t wanted Brody when she’d dated him because she’d thought it was all moving too fast, getting too serious too soon. She’d wanted freedom and excitement before she had to go home and get back to reality.

In the past few months her reality had shifted, changed to the point she no longer knew what her future held or how to get back to the person she was or the person she’d always thought she’d be.

She pulled the blanket close as she studied the room. It was a tiny apartment, not much bigger than the bedroom she’d had growing up. The sofa she’d slept on and an overstuffed chair were the only furnishings. The small kitchen area was just a counter with a narrow stove, single sink and a dorm-size fridge. Stairs behind the sofa led to a loft.

The inside door opened and a woman with dark hair peeked in, saw that she was awake and entered the room with a smile. She held up a glass coffeepot. “You’re awake. Need coffee?”

Grace shook her head, still holding the blanket tight. “No, thank you. I’m trying to cut back.”

Because she was having a baby. Her heart clenched and she wanted to cry all over again. She drew in a deep breath and managed to smile so the woman in front of her wouldn’t think she was falling apart.

The woman sat on the arm of the chair and set the coffeepot down on a magazine on the table. She studied Grace, her smile kind. “You’ll make it through this.”

Grace wanted to ask if this stranger could promise that. Instead, she managed a smile. “I hope so.”

“You will. And you’ll learn a lot about yourself. By the way, I’m Oregon Jeffries. I’m engaged to Brody’s brother Duke.”

“Grace Thomas. But you probably already know that.”

“Brody did tell me your name. But he didn’t tell me anything else. He keeps things to himself.”

Grace nodded. Yes, that was the Brody she knew. She thought about how she used to try to get him to share gossip about people they met. But he never would. Instead, he’d told her everyone had a story and most didn’t need to be repeated. Brody had his anger, his past, but he also had faith. He had convictions. The whole package that was Brody Martin had scared her a little. Oregon cleared her throat, bringing Grace back to the present.

“Sorry, I got lost in thought.” Grace said. “Is it going to cause you problems, having me here? I wouldn’t want to put you in danger.”

“Of course you’re not a problem. As for danger, Duke is right across the street.”

“Thank you.” Grace looked around the tiny room. She felt safe here.

“Is there anything at all I can get you?”

Grace thought about all of the possible answers to that question. If only this woman, Oregon, could get her what she really needed. She’d start with redoing the past year. That would put her back on track. She’d go back to nursing school. She’d ignore Lincoln’s advances. She’d make better choices.

She would remember the person she’d been raised to be. She’d done her best to run from the gilded cage she’d been in all her life. She’d thought that cage confining. Now she realized it had been safe.

But there were no do-overs in life, only opportunities to move forward. “There’s nothing.”

“Lunch?” Oregon offered with a sweet smile and shrug of slim shoulders. “A hug?”

She almost cried. It made her realize how alone she’d felt for the past few months. She’d climbed inside herself, hiding the secret of Lincoln’s abuse from people who could have helped. She’d lost pieces of herself one bruise at a time. She would put herself back together. For her baby. And for herself.

She moved her hand to her belly.

Oregon moved to the sofa. A slim arm slipped around Grace, pulling her close to the other woman’s side. “It’ll get better. I know people love to use the phrase, ‘I’ve been there.’ But I really have. I had Duke’s child twelve years ago. I was younger than you and very alone.”

Grace’s throat tightened with emotion and tears stung her eyes.

Oregon gave her another quick hug. “It gets easier. And harder. Better. And worse.”

Grace laughed through her tears at that bit of honesty. “Thanks. I think.”

“I won’t lie. It won’t be the easiest thing you’ve ever done. But you’ll have friends. If you stay here, I’ll help you any way that I can.”

Grace tried to find words to respond to this unexpected offer of friendship. She drew in a breath, felt a little stronger. “Thank you. I know I can do this. The past few months have been rough. But it has to get easier.”

“Of course it will. Now let’s have a sandwich and then I’ll show you my store.” Oregon stood and held out a hand to pull Grace to her feet. “If we’re lucky we’ll get a little peace and quiet before one of the Martin men comes storming in to...”

As if on cue the outside door opened. Brody stepped in, his gaze shooting from Oregon to Grace. “I thought I’d check on you before I head out to the ranch. I’ve been rounding up a few supplies for Jake.”

“I’m good,” Grace assured him, standing next to Oregon. “We were just going to get lunch.”

“Yeah, you should eat. I don’t think you kept any of your breakfast down.” His suntanned cheeks turn a little pink. His blue eyes skirted the room, looking at everything but her. “Anyway, if you need anything, Oregon has my number.”

“Brody, you don’t have to...”

“I know that, Grace. But you came here, and I’m not going to turn my back on you.”

“Thanks.”

Oregon touched her arm and left them alone.

He glanced away, but not before she saw the hurt in his eyes. She started to take a step toward him but stopped, because it did a cowboy no good to think he was getting sympathy when that was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t want her hugs or her apologies. He wanted to get on with his life.

He’d help her. She knew that. But she also knew that Brody wouldn’t let her back into his life, not after the way she’d hurt him. That was for the best. She was having a baby. That had to be her focus now.

“Well, I’ve got to run before Jake comes after me. I doubt I’ll be back this evening. If you need anything the store is next door. Put anything you need on my account, and I’ll settle up with them at the end of the week. Or you can run over to Duke’s.”

“Brody, I can take care of myself.”

He looked at her, really looked at her, then gave a curt nod. He adjusted that beat-up white cowboy hat he wouldn’t replace and reached for the door. “Yeah, I know you can.”

With that he walked out the door. Grace was left standing in the center of the small apartment, lost somewhere between needing him to come back and knowing she could do this on her own.

She walked through the door that connected the apartment to the shop and found Oregon arranging paints and brushes on a worktable. Grace entered the room, slightly mesmerized by the merchandise.

“You made all of this?” Grace asked.

Oregon stepped out from behind the worktable. “I did. And you’re the reason Brody came home angry, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t said with malice, just curiosity.

Grace touched a Christmas ornament with a pretty manger scene painted on the front of the glass bulb. “Yes, I’m the reason. I never meant to hurt him. I just wasn’t ready and he was so serious.”

“People seldom do mean to hurt each other.”

At that, Grace touched her bruised cheek. “Oh, some people mean it.”

“Yes, some do. But if you weren’t ready it would have been wrong to lead him on. That would have been another kind of hurt.”

Grace walked away from Oregon and the discomfort of the conversation. She sifted through a rack of handmade skirts, then stopped, her hand hovering as she turned to look at Oregon.

“You’re right. It would have been wrong.”

So why had she come to Martin’s Crossing, to Brody, when she could have gone anywhere? Would she hurt him all over again, being here, needing his help?

Because hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do.

Chapter Three

Brody’s knees ached, but it felt good to be in the saddle. The big gelding underneath him moved a bit to the right, ears pricked forward as he watched the cattle they were moving. The day had started out gray and rainy but had cleared, and the air soon turned muggy as the sun heated things up. Their mission was to move close to a hundred head of cattle to a field that hadn’t been grazed down.

The beef moved slowly, sometimes stopping to munch at grass, sometimes trying to zigzag away from the herd and take off to greener pastures. Brody kept a steady hand on the reins, trying to keep the gelding he rode from bolting. He could handle riding, but a sudden jerk felt like fire going through his leg. That was what happened when wear and tear dissolved the cartilage in a knee.

After the lunch rush, Duke had left the diner in the capable hands of Ned and joined in to help. As they moved the animals through an open gate, Duke rode up beside Brody.

“You doing okay?” Duke asked in his typical big-brother tone that got under Brody’s skin.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Could you stop being defensive for one second and just be honest?”

“I’m honest. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“Well, you’ve had your leg out of the stirrup more than in. And on top of that, a pregnant woman showed up this morning and it’s clear the two of you are more than just friends.”

“We’re not even friends. And it isn’t my baby, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No, I wasn’t thinking that. What I’m thinking is that you don’t like to share anything with your family, and that makes it kind of hard to help you.”

“I’m not a little boy. I don’t need your help or your advice. If I do, I’ll ask.”

“Right-o, brother. But you did need a place to put that woman to keep her safe.”

“Yeah, I did. And thank you for that. I’m not sure how long she’ll stay, but at least she’s safe for now.”

“Brody, you have to let go of the past.”

“I didn’t know I was hanging on to it.”

Duke rode up to the gate and swung it closed, leaning from his horse to wrap the chain around the post. Brody rubbed his knee, moving it from the stirrup and then putting his foot back in before Duke could catch him. A shot of fear tugged at him, because he knew what arthritis and joint damage could mean for a guy who made his living on the back of a horse. He already knew what it meant to a bull-riding career. He knew what it meant when, late at night, he could barely stand up and walk from one room to another.

The gate secure, Duke turned back to Brody. “You might pretend nothing bothers you, but you’re so uptight I’m surprised you don’t crack when you walk.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

Duke’s attention shot to the knee Brody rubbed without thinking. “Not too surprised. Can they do surgery?”

“I’ve had surgery. Last year before I came home.”

“Then, why is it still bothering you?”

“I’m actually working on finding out. So if that’s all you want to know, let’s get back to the barn and treat that other bunch for pinkeye before it spreads.”

They rode in blessed silence for a few minutes. Brody started to mention a horse he’d like to look at, but thought if he said anything Duke would feel the need to talk more about the past, about Grace or about his health. Sometimes they forgot he was almost twenty-seven. He had a double degree in special education and counseling. He’d been on the dean’s list every year. Stupid, he was not.

“Would it help you to find Sylvia?”

At the mention of their mother’s name, Brody pulled back on the reins, surprising the gelding, who sidestepped a few times and shook his head to protest the rough treatment. Brody whispered an apology to the animal and brushed a hand down the horse’s dark neck.

“Why bring her up now?”

Duke shrugged and kept riding. “Because everything comes back to her. She abandoned you.”

“She abandoned us.” He didn’t like to talk about it. The only person who knew his feelings about Sylvia was Grace. He’d told Grace all about how his world had fallen apart as a little kid. Now, as an adult, he realized it had never been too secure of a world to start with. Sylvia had always been a mess. Their dad had been pretty okay until she’d left.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want to find her.”

“Why is it that I’m the one who wants to find her? Aren’t you the least bit curious? Wouldn’t Jake or Samantha like to know where she is and what’s happened to her?”

Duke directed his horse toward the pen where they’d managed to confine the young steers with the pinkeye outbreak. “Yeah, I guess we all go through periods when we wonder. But I’ve hired a PI.”

Brody caught up with his brother. “You did what?”

“I hired a private investigator. I think it’s time to close this chapter. Maybe finish the book and start a new one.”

“Poetic. But save it. I’m not interested.”

“Aren’t you?” Duke swung a leg over the saddle and slid the ground. He looked up at Brody. “I think it would do you a world of good to confront the lady.”

Brody didn’t know what to think exactly. “I think that I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I know.” Duke led his horse by the reins into the barn.

Brody took a little longer to dismount. He swung his leg over the horse’s rump and was careful to land on his right leg and not his left. It still took him a minute to cowboy up and not cry like a girl. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Next time we take four wheelers,” Duke said from behind him.

Brody opened his eyes to find his brother watching him. “Yeah, good idea. But I do miss being in the saddle.”

“So now that we’ve talked about your knee and our mother, let’s forge ahead and discuss the lovely Grace Thomas, barrel racing diva.”

Brody shook his head and walked past his brother, leading his horse. “No, I think not.”

“You might have to. I just saw a truck pull up out front and I’m pretty sure it’s Lincoln Carter.”

Brody almost swore. Almost. He tossed the reins of his horse to his brother and hurried through the barn. When he walked out the front door, Lincoln had already gotten out of his truck.

“Where is she?” Lincoln thundered, his face mottled from anger.

“She?”

“You know who I’m talking about. Where’s Grace?”

Brody shrugged. “Not a clue. Remember, she left me for you.”

“Is that how we’re going to play this?” Lincoln asked. “Do I have to put a fist to your face?”

Brody almost said something about Lincoln making a habit of that lately. He bit back the words, which would have given too much away. “No, I guess not. But you know what they’re saying about head trauma and moods. Seriously, you should get that checked. You’ve had more concussions than the average man.”

Brody hadn’t realized until then that he meant what he said. Not only was Lincoln a bull rider, he’d played high school and college football and taken some serious blows to the head. The giant shift in Lincoln’s personality suddenly made sense.

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” Lincoln insisted. “I just need to find Grace.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to be found, Lincoln.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m going to find her.” Lincoln took a step toward him.

“Head on down the road, man. She isn’t on this ranch, and if she needs you, she’ll call.”

Lincoln looked around, then he shook his head. “I’m going to find her.”

“I’m sure you are.” Brody shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well, I have some cattle to treat, so I’ll say goodbye.”

“I miss you, Brody.”

“I miss you, too, Lincoln. But you’re going to have to get in your truck and head on down the road. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come back.”

Lincoln pulled off his hat, ran a shaking hand through his hair, then smashed the hat back down on his head. “It isn’t my fault she left you.”

“I’m not having this conversation. She made her choice about us. And now it looks as if she’s made a choice about the two of you. I’d let it go if I were you.”

Lincoln made a move; his fist came back. Brody had figured he’d do something stupid, so he moved, letting Lincoln find nothing but air. Brody shook his head and turned to walk away. Lincoln came at him again, a booted foot to the back. Brody fell forward, catching himself against the barn wall and then turning, because a man didn’t take a hit to the back and walk away.

“You’re a coward, Lincoln,” Brody called out, knowing it would work.

Lincoln came at him again. Brody grabbed Lincoln by the arm. Lincoln pulled back his fist and Brody caught his hand in his own.

“I’m not going to hit you, Lincoln. It would be too easy, and you’re the only one around here who likes an easy target. I suggest you leave town before I have you picked up. I suggest you leave the state. That would be the best thing you could do.”

“I can’t leave.”

“You don’t have a choice. You either leave, or I escort you off the property.”

“Her running to you doesn’t mean she’s ready to wear your ring.”

“Since she isn’t here, it doesn’t matter.”

Lincoln shook free. “I’m leaving.”

Brody took a few deep breaths as he watched Lincoln take off in his truck, gravel flying.

“You think he’ll find her?” Duke stood behind him, holding the reins of both horses.

Brody reached for this horse. “I doubt it.”

“Aren’t you worried?” Duke headed for the barn with his big gray gelding.

“She’s fine.” He busied himself unsaddling the horse, aware that Duke watched him with that steady gaze that saw too much.

“Go check on her. I’ll finish up here.”

Brody faced his brother. “I’m taking care of my horse.”

“Right, but you’re tied up in knots worrying about her. You don’t have to get hooked up with her again, but you care. Nothing wrong with that.”

“I’ll check on her when we’re finished.”

“At least call and warn her that Lincoln is in town,” Duke suggested as he unsaddled his horse. “You don’t want something to happen to her.”

Brody’s hand went to the chain that hung from his neck. Beneath his T-shirt he felt the ring still in place next to the cross. He’d kept it since the night when he’d planned to propose to Grace. Before he’d had a chance to ask, she’d ended their relationship, telling him they were getting too serious and she wasn’t ready for that. He’d kept the ring.

It was a reminder—one he wouldn’t soon forget.

* * *

Clouds rolled on the southern horizon and the breeze had picked up. Grace stopped on the sidewalk in front of Oregon’s, unsure of which way she wanted to walk. She didn’t have a plan. She just knew she needed some fresh air. The wooden sign hanging from the overhang of the shop next door caught her attention. Mueller’s Christmas Shop. Grace told her about it earlier, about Lefty and his carved nativities and candlelit Christmas carousels.

She walked down the sidewalk to the store and reached for the doorknob. It was locked. That didn’t surprise her. Oregon had closed a short time ago. All of the shops in Martin’s Crossing probably closed early. Except Duke’s No Bar and Grill. It was still open.

Suddenly her phone rang. She reached into her pocket and answered the call from Brody.

“Are you at Oregon’s?” Brody asked.

“No, just window-shopping at Lefty’s.”

“Lincoln was here. I don’t think he’ll come to town looking for you, but you should be careful. Maybe stay inside.”

“Okay, but I’m fine.”

“I know you’re fine. Just be careful.”

As she hung up she heard a truck on the road. It probably wasn’t Lincoln, she consoled herself. He wasn’t going to risk showing up here when there could be witnesses. The coward in him only struck when no one could see. But she wouldn’t take a chance. She was too far from Oregon’s, so she went around the side of Lefty’s store.

As she ran along the back of the shop, a door opened. An older man stepped out. He waved her forward. “Come inside.”

“I’m sorry?” She hesitated and he reached for her arm. Grace froze, unsure. Her heart raced and fear kept her feet planted.

“Brody called me because he knew I’d be here and he wanted you safe. Come inside.”

She slipped through the door and it closed firmly behind her. Her legs shook as she stood there in the small living room, unsure of what to do next.

“I’m Lefty Mueller.”

“I’m Grace,” she said, flicking a quick look at the door, and taking a deep breath. “Grace Thomas.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Though not under these circumstances,” he winked as he said it.

She looked around the tiny living room with the Victorian furniture and heavy wood cabinets built into the walls. “Is Lefty your given name?”

At that the dapper man with thinning gray hair and a twinkle in his gray eyes smiled. “My given name is Matthias, but I’m left-handed. My father always wondered if I would be able to carve, being left-handed.” Lefty had moved to a small stove in the kitchen alcove of the apartment. He poured tea from a kettle and held out a cup. “Peppermint tea. Please, have a seat.”

She carried her cup to the sofa and sat. Mr. Mueller poured himself a cup of tea and sat across from her in a wing chair that seemed too large for his slight frame.

Humor teased away her nervousness as she considered her situation. She felt somewhat like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Her entire world had changed—the people in it, her surroundings... Nothing felt familiar or safe anymore. Yet here she sat drinking peppermint tea with a wood-carver named Lefty, who spoke with a slight accent that said he’d been exposed to another language for a large part of his life.

“Would you like to see my shop?” he asked after they’d finished their tea.

“I’d love to.” Grace stood, feeling a little shaky as she followed him through the double doors and into his showroom.

As she stood in awe at the many hand-carved nativities and Christmas carousels, he lit candles in an extravagant, triple-tiered carousel in the center of the room. The windmill of the carousel heated and started to turn. The carousel with the nativity figurines began to spin.

“It’s lovely. I’ve seen them before but never like this.”

“Thank you, my dear. I enjoy making them. It makes me feel as if I celebrate our savior’s birth all year long. Some people light a carousel once a year and enjoy the nativity for one month. I enjoy them daily.”

It was obvious he loved his art, his job. The love he felt for it was in each piece he carved. Before she left Martin’s Crossing, she told him, she’d buy one to take home.

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered. She hadn’t really planned how long she would stay or where she’d go next.

“You have time to make plans. Don’t rush yourself.” He snuffed out the candles on the carousel and the figurines stopped spinning.

Before they left the store he picked up one of the carousels and held it out to her. “This one is for you. I’ll box it up tomorrow and bring it to you at Oregon’s.”

“I can buy it.”

“Nonsense. It’s my gift for you.”

She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you.”

A sudden pounding interrupted the peace and quiet inside the shop. Grace glanced around the room, her heart racing as she searched for a hiding place.

“You’re safe.” He pointed to the stool behind the counter. “Sit. I’ll check, but my guess is that it’s Brody Martin pounding my door down.”

He left her alone in the shop, her gaze shifting from the back door to the front door. She calculated how long it would take her to reach the back door and run to Duke’s No Bar and Grill.

The door between the shop and the apartment opened. She collapsed back on the stool, her legs suddenly weak. Brody pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his dark hair. His gaze took in the room and then settled back on her.

“I would have been here sooner but Lincoln stopped me on the steps of Duke’s, and I had to linger over an iced tea.”

“He’s gone?”

Brody nodded, but his attention fell on Lefty Mueller. “Thank you for taking her in.”

Lefty winked at her. “I’m glad you called me, Brody. We had a nice visit over a cup of tea.”

“I’ve had a cup or two of that tea myself, Lefty. I’m sure she enjoyed hanging out with you.” Brody settled his hat back on his head. “I’ll walk you back to Oregon’s.”

“I can walk myself, Brody.”

“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you.”

The two of them stood there facing one another. Grace didn’t want this animosity between them. She’d come to him for help. It had been her choice. It had actually been her first thought, to go to Brody.

Lefty took the tea cup from her hand and she gave him a quick hug. “Thank you for taking me in and for the tea. I enjoyed seeing your shop and talking to you.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear. If you ever need anything, my door is open.” Mr. Mueller smiled at Brody. “And you, young man, take good care of her.”

“I’m not sure if she wants that, Lefty, but I’ll do my best.”

Brody took her by the arm and led her out the back door of the shop, over to the back door of Oregon’s All Things. She unlocked the door with the key Oregon had given her and stepped inside. Brody took off his hat and followed her across the threshold.

It suddenly dawned on her, what Lefty had said. She grinned as she looked at the big cowboy, hat in hand. “You drink peppermint tea with Lefty?”

He shot her a look that was none too pleased but cute, nonetheless. “Men can drink peppermint tea.”

“Of course they can.” She sat down on the overstuffed couch and pulled a pillow to her lap. “Have you eaten? I can make you a sandwich.”

“I thought I’d head over to Duke’s. What about you?”

“I had a sandwich earlier.”

He frowned at that. “That isn’t much of a meal. Why don’t you go to Duke’s with me.”

She sat there, the pillow on her lap, and Brody standing tall and awkward in the center of the small apartment. Finally she nodded, pushing aside fear and misgivings to accept the peace offering he’d extended.

“I think that would be good.”

She followed him out the door. They walked side by side down the sidewalk and across the street to Duke’s. They didn’t touch, not even by accident. They didn’t speak, not even to comment on the weather.

Peace was a fragile thing, she realized.

When they got to the diner, Brody went up the steps slowly, flinching each time he raised his leg to the next step. She wanted to help. But how did she do that without tackling his cowboy pride?

“Have you considered using the ramp?” she suggested, knowing immediately it had been the wrong thing to say.

Brody shot her a look. “I’m perfectly capable of using steps.”

“I know you are, but if it causes more wear and tear...”

He kept going, ignoring her.

When he got to the door he held it open for her. “After you.”

She stepped into Duke’s. The restaurant was long and low ceilinged with barn wood-paneled walls and a tin ceiling. The tables were rough wood. The booths along two walls were wood with rustic fabric-covered seats.

A woman came bustling out of the kitchen. She was nearly as tall as Brody. Her auburn hair, shot through with gray, was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She grinned big as she scooted past them with a tray of food.

“Sit anywhere, kids, and I’ll be back to take your order in a few.”

“Will do, Ned.” Brody led Grace to a table where a half dozen people sat together. There was an older couple that smiled as they continued to bicker over something, a couple of men drinking coffee and a younger couple with a little boy.

“Mind if we join you all?” Brody asked as he reached for a chair.

“Sure thing,” one of the older men said. “Have a seat, and introduce us to your friend, Brody.”

“Grace Thomas.” Brody pulled out a chair for her and took the seat next to it. “This is Ian Fisher and his brother, Bill. That’s their sister, Ava, and her husband, Chuck, and these are the Lansings.” He nodded toward the young family. “Sara and Carl and their son, Clay.”

She smiled and thanked them for letting her join them. They all laughed and made jokes about Brody not giving anyone a chance to say no.

He reddened at the joke and looked as though he might wish he’d taken a seat elsewhere. But this was Martin’s Crossing, and she imagined if they’d sat alone the rumors would have been rampant. Not that there wouldn’t be rumors anyway.

Ned headed their way after refilling coffee for a few diners.

She placed glasses of water in front of them and then pulled up a chair and sat down. “I’m about worn out.”

“Long day, Ned?” Brody asked as he picked up the glass of water.

“Long day, long week and longer year. Do you all know what you want to eat?”

“I’ll take the special.” Brody handed her back the menu.

“I’ll take the same.” Grace smiled and handed the waitress the menu.

“You got it, kids. Do you want something to drink other than water?” She held up the coffeepot she carried. “Or I can get you tea.”

They both declined and Ned pushed herself to her feet and headed for the kitchen. As she walked away, a slim, dark-haired girl came out of the kitchen, a big grin on her face. Grace knew immediately who the child had to be.

“Lilly, what are you up to today?” Brody asked, confirming her suspicions. She watched him change as the girl headed their way. His eyes lit up. He looked amused and protective all at once. The corner of his mouth tilted and revealed the dimple in his cheek.

“I have a horse to pay off, remember?” She sat down next to Grace and studied her long and hard. “So you’re the trouble...”

“Lilly.” Brody cut her off as he chuckled. “This is Grace.”

Grace held out her hand. “Better known as trouble.”

Lilly smirked. “Mom said you’re staying in the apartment.”

“Yes, I am.”

Lilly leaned back in her chair and Brody reached over, putting the chair back on four legs. “Down, killer.”

“I have to get back to work. Mom and Dad will be here soon.” She stood, her attention focused on Grace. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you earlier. I came here right after school.”

“I’m sure we’ll have a chance to get to know each other,” Grace offered.

“Great,” Brody murmured. “Maybe we should get our food to go.”

“Why would we do that? This looks as if it might be entertaining,” Grace teased. It was easy to do when she knew how much Brody liked his privacy.

“We should leave before the whole family shows up,” he said, leaning in close. “You’re laughing at me now, Gracie, but you wait till you’re face-to-face with Jake, Duke and their women. And then there’s this bunch.”

He inclined his head, taking in the group at the table.

“I do like to see you squirm.”

He leaned back in his chair. “They’ll eat you alive.”

As if on cue, one of the older men turned his attention on Brody and Grace. He grinned as he settled his fishing hat on his head, the stiff bill shading his face but not hiding the teasing glint in his dark eyes.

“Brody, I’m just a wondering when you’re going to hang up your running shoes.”

“Running isn’t good for your knees, Brody.” Grace understood the double meaning but she jumped in anyway. Anything to see his face turn red.

“I haven’t been running, Grace.”

The other gentleman laughed at that. “Brody, as far as I can tell, you’ve been running for a year. Looks to me as if it finally caught up with you.”

Brody shot her an I-told-you-so look. She’d jumped in, thinking Brody would be the target. But it was suddenly clear that in Martin’s Crossing, no one got a break. For the next hour she took her share of teasing. When Brody’s brothers and their wives showed up, they made sure Brody took his fair share of ribbing. It felt good to be a part of that crowd, and to spend time laughing and not worrying.

When Brody walked her back to the apartment an hour later, Grace was exhausted but still amused. She’d learned a lot about Brody Martin in their time with his family and with old-timers who’d known him all his life.

“You really rode a bull through the school?” she asked as she unlocked the door.

Brody lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug and reached to push the door open. He flipped on the lights inside and stepped back for her to enter.

“A friend dared me.”

“Do you always take dares?” For reasons unknown even to her, Grace’s voice softened. She looked up and saw Brody watching her, his blue eyes intent.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to brush her hands over the dark shadows on his cheeks. She wanted to lean in and inhale his scent.

Instead, she took a step back, knowing that they didn’t have a future. She’d broken his heart once. And Brody didn’t trust easily. She had a baby to think about. This was definitely not the time for distractions.

“Brody, thank you. For letting me stay here and for not being angry.”

“Oh, I’m still angry, Grace. That doesn’t mean I don’t care.” He kissed her cheek and walked away.

She drew in a deep breath as she locked the door behind him, then leaned against it. A tear slid down her cheek.

She brushed it away because crying did no good. She’d gotten herself into this mess and she’d survive. Somehow.

Chapter Four

Brody sat in the exam room long after the doctor had handed him a sheet of instructions and left. The diagnosis hadn’t been a surprise, but he’d been given a royally good chewing out for putting off this visit for so long. He guessed he’d just hoped it would go away. He’d guessed wrong. Rheumatoid arthritis didn’t go away. Neither would the cartilage damage in his knee. But at least surgery could clean that up. The upside, if there was one, is that it would probably respond to treatment and even go into remission. Men, he’d learned, had less severe cases of RA than women.

At least he knew the prognosis.

He couldn’t sit in this room for the rest of the day, avoiding his life. He pulled on his boots, shoved his hat down on his head and left the exam room behind.

He headed for the waiting room and Grace. He’d stopped at Duke’s for coffee that morning and she’d been there. When she’d found out he was heading to Austin, she’d asked for a ride. Of course he hadn’t been able to tell her no.

He was going to have to practice if she planned on staying in Martin’s Crossing any length of time. He mumbled, “No, Grace,” to himself, then shook his head. He was really losing it.

“No, Grace, I don’t need someone to hold my hand,” he grumbled. “No, Grace. I don’t think I’ll give you a second chance,” he whispered to himself.

“Are you talking to me?”

She was heading toward him, coming out a door near the exit. No, Grace. The words evaporated as she stepped close, a sweet expression on her face, lingering dark brown eyes. She could turn a man into a fool with that look.

“Nope,” he said. He’d been talking to himself. It made him half-mad that he couldn’t hold on to his anger when she was around.

His gaze went to the baby bump her loose shirt didn’t hide. Her hand moved to that bump and her smile faltered. He hadn’t meant for that to happen.

“You okay?” Her voice was soft in the quiet room, where a dozen people waited.

“I guess so.” He hooked his arm through hers and they headed for the elevator.

“You’re lying,” she said when the elevator doors slid closed.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

He shook his head and pushed the lobby button. “Nope. Where do you need to go?”

“Brody, we’re at a rheumatologist.”

Yeah, he knew she would put two and two together. That didn’t mean he was ready to talk about it.

“Yeah, I guess we are. Where do you need to go?”

Silence for a blessed moment.

“A department store, please. I need a few things that I can’t get in Martin’s Crossing.”

For some reason that lightened his mood. He doubted she’d planned it that way, but he’d take any rope he could grab hold of.

“What? There are things you can’t get in Martin’s Crossing?” He smiled as he teased her. “I thought the feed store had everything.”

“If everything includes grain, rubber boots, lead ropes and work jeans.”

“Sounds like everything a person needs.”

“Yes, everything a person needs. But what I need the most is my friend,” she said, her amusement fading.

“Don’t.”

He led her across the parking lot to his truck. When he reached to open the door for her, she placed a hand on his arm. He drew in a deep breath and looked down at her. She had a serious look on her face, the kind that went right through him.

“I know you don’t want to talk, but if you change your mind, I’m here.”

“I appreciate that.”

She bit down on her bottom lip as she studied him. “Brody, I do care. We...”

“Don’t. We’re not a ‘we’ anymore. Whatever you do or I do, there’s no ‘we’ involved.”

“I know that. I’m just saying, I know you’re in a lot of pain. And I know your surgery last year didn’t go well. There was a lot of damage that they probably couldn’t...”

He cut her off, motioning her to get in the truck. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Gotcha. But you know as well as I do that you’re going to have to face it.”

“It isn’t fatal, Grace.”

“No, but I’m sure it’s life changing.”

“Yeah, well, there’s been a lot of those moments in the past year.” With that, he closed the truck door.

When they got to the mall, he dropped her at the door, then parked the truck. She waited for him at the entrance. Her hand touched his, but then she must have thought better of it because she walked a little ahead of him. He followed her inside.

The first thing she did was head for the baby stuff. He felt a little itchy when she started touching pretty little dresses and pink shoes. He hadn’t thought about it, really. That baby bump was going to be a little person in a matter of months. It would wear lacy dresses. Or maybe it would wear jeans and cowboy boots. He picked up a pair of miniature cowboy boots and grinned.

“It’s going to be a girl.” She stepped next to him, taking the boots from his hand and putting them back on the shelf.

“It’s a boy,” he teased. “I’ve heard that boys are always right out front and girls spread themselves around their momma’s entire middle.

She looked down, her eyes widening as she covered the bump with her hand. “Do you think?”

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