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The drive from Lexington back to Faderville had never taken so long. Grayson was sure time was churning in slow motion. It didn’t help that traffic was unusually heavy. At some point, he was trapped behind a semi passing another semi. ‘Passing’ wasn’t the right term, though, because the two trucks went down the highway side by side for miles and miles.
Until traffic stopped entirely.
Grayson inched his SUV onto the left shoulder to get a better view. As far as the eye could see, cars were backed up bumper to bumper. Every once in a while, he was able to crawl forward a few feet, but each time he swung out to see if the jam was breaking up, there was no sign of it getting better anytime soon.
“As if this day wasn’t crappy enough,” he grumbled. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he flipped his phone over to see if Brandy had answered the texts he’d sent before leaving the hospital. Nothing.
Sooner was asleep in the backseat, completely oblivious to their situation. As soon as they’d gotten back in the car at the hospital, she’d clung to him more than normal, trying to lick his ears and snuffling at his shoulder. He hadn’t felt like receiving her sympathy, so he’d scolded her for standing on the center console and told her to ‘get in the back,’ a command she knew well by now.
When he’d awoken that morning, the world had seemed bright, his path ahead clearly laid out. He was going to tell Brandy about the offer he’d received, explain why he wasn’t taking it. And then he was going to tell her how he felt about her. Just put it all out there. See how she reacted. It was ridiculous how much he felt like a junior high boy trying to summon the courage to ask his crush to a dance, but he couldn’t go on without knowing how she felt about him. The thought of her rejecting him had nearly made him physically ill. But conversely, the prospect she might feel the same—it had been worth the risk. At least, he’d thought so.
Maybe, somehow, she’d already sensed his feelings for her. And by leaving, she was giving him her answer.
If Grayson had thought he couldn’t feel any lower than he had the morning he’d stared into that full bottle of sleeping pills, he’d been wrong. The hurt he felt now was so devastating it was as if a black hole had opened up right beneath his feet, and he hadn’t yet stopped falling.
What had made her so determined to put distance between them? Had he said or done something to put her off? He couldn’t think of anything. By all accounts, their last visit had gone well enough. He hadn’t mean to leave her with Rex for that short stint, but Sooner had needed to—
A horn blasted behind him. The semi ahead had rolled forward, and it was picking up steam. He’d been so mired in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed. Lifting his foot from the brake, he moved forward.
By the time traffic resumed a normal pace, a question had worked its way forward in his mind until he couldn’t ignore it any longer: Had Rex said something to her?
The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Rex had told Brandy he was going to take that job.
Suddenly, instead of drowning in despair, Grayson was angry. Angrier than he’d ever been at another human being. So angry, he wasn’t sure what he was capable of.
Grayson wove in and out of traffic, one foot on the brake, the other on the accelerator. The speedometer ticked over seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five... Sooner was sitting up, whimpering, as if pleading for him to slow down. Only when he swerved into the right lane and she went toppling over did he let up on the gas.
“You okay, girl?”
Sooner’s head popped over his shoulder. Her tongue flicked nervously at his ear a few times, then she retreated and plastered herself to the back of the seat, her legs braced and a look bordering on terror on her face. Grayson reduced his speed, making sure he wasn’t tailgating the slowpoke in front of him. He really needed to get a sturdy airline crate to let her ride around in. She might not like having her freedom restricted, but if it kept her safer, it was worth it. He also needed to put a lid on his temper so he wouldn’t accidentally cause a wreck or rearrange Rex’s face.
As hard as he tried, though, he couldn’t cool down. How dare Rex tell the person he loved something that wasn’t true? He needed to give him a piece of his—
The person he loved...
He did. He loved her.
Only... he wasn’t sure she loved him.
Rex had ruined his chance of ever finding out—and he was going to make the bastard sorry he’d ever meddled in his personal life.
—o00o—
––––––––
Grayson stomped on the brakes, then swerved into a parking space on the block on which Rex’s office was located. He barely took the time to pull the key from the ignition before jumping out and yanking the back door open for Sooner. He didn’t even bother to clip her leash on or make sure to lock the car. Leash laws be damned. The dog wasn’t about to run off. And if someone in Faderville wanted to commit grand theft auto for the first time in ten years, let them. He had a score to settle—and it just might be him who got arrested for assault and battery as a result.
Every time his feet impacted the concrete, the thought reverberated in his bones: I. Will. Kill. Him.
The anger fueled superpowers in him. He could’ve punched through a cement block wall and not felt a thing. It also blinded him to anything but his purpose—Rex Franzen was going to regret what he’d done.
As Grayson turned the corner, he was so focused on reaching Rex’s office he almost plowed into a stroller. Little Claire Mays, her face framed by a hood fringed in faux fur, stared up at him, her mouth open in an O of fright. Her lower lip trembled. Tears welled in her round eyes. Soon, short puffs of air morphed into blubbery sobs, broken only by the ear-piercing wails of an inconsolable toddler.
The shock of it jarred Grayson back into the bigger world. The one beyond his inner core of smoldering revenge. The sharp edges of his determination softened the tiniest bit.
Becca Mays rushed around the stroller to lift her daughter out. She cradled Claire’s head against her shoulder, stroking her hair.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay, Claire. Everything’s okay.” Her motherly voice was soothing, but the glare she aimed at Grayson could’ve lasered through steel. “She was sound asleep. I think you startled her, that’s all.”
Although her words were carefully chosen, the implication was Grayson should watch where he was going.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could get out.
Becca bounced the little girl on her hip a few times before setting her back down in the stroller, upon which she produced a lollipop from the small cross-slung bag at her hip. Claire gasped in delight, her displeasure at being woken instantly erased.
“See? All better now,” Becca said to her daughter. Then to Grayson, “See you around. Be careful.”
Grayson might have nodded, but he wasn’t sure.
Then they were gone, as if they’d never been there at all. Discombobulated by the encounter, he stood transfixed by a crack in the sidewalk. Became aware of a cool gust of wind barreling down the tunnel of the main street of Faderville. Heard the chug of a semi accelerating from a four-way stop. The clink-clink-clink of a rope against a flagpole. The click of footsteps from behind—
A hand alighted on Grayson’s shoulder.
He gasped. Snapped his head to the right.
“You okay, pal?” Gertie stepped back to study him. Her baker’s apron peeked from beneath the hem of her worn brown coat. “I’d say you look like you just lost your best friend, but she’s right next to you.”
It wasn’t until then Grayson remembered Sooner was still with him. The dog gazed up at him, concerned.
“You stopping by the donut shop while you’re in town? I made some raspberry cream-cheese Danishes fresh this morning.” She rubbed her ample tummy in a slow circle. When Grayson hesitated, she added, “First one’s on the house. You just give me your honest opinion.”
“Sure,” he finally managed without even being wholly aware of what he’d just agreed to.
Gertie rattled on some more about the cold snap coming and how there were rumors of Starbucks building a store at the interstate exit and all the harm that would do to the community if they did. Grayson blinked at her, his focus meandering. He nodded as if he were listening, even though what he was really doing was trying to re-gather all the forceful words he’d meant to lob at Rex Franzen.
By the time she finally moved on, Grayson had regrouped. He’d come here for a reason and socializing with the locals definitely wasn’t it. He glanced down, made sure Sooner was still there, then slapped his thigh for her to follow him.
As he reached for the doorknob to Rex’s office, the smooth metal slipped in his hand. The door flew open before he could even push it. A figure clad in plaid flannel and wearing knee-high mud boots blocked his way.
“Hello, Mr. Darling.” Tucker from the feed store flapped a thread of tickets at him. “Can I interest you in my church’s raffle? Only twenty or so tickets left. Proceeds go to help local families in need. We’re giving away a pair of roundtrip plane tickets to anywhere in the continental US. Consolation prize is a fancy barbecue grill. Being a homebody, I’d prefer the latter myself, but some folks want to get away from it all from time to time. The drawing is next week at our annual Night at the Casino fundraising event.”
“Uh, I don’t—”
“Ten bucks for the lot of ‘em.”
Grayson had the distinct feeling Tucker wasn’t going to budge from his gatepost until Grayson paid the toll. After digging a twenty out of his wallet, he stuffed it into Tucker’s calloused hand. “Keep the change.”
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll put your name on our Honor Roll of Donors in the church program.” He unrolled the last of the tickets, split them down the middle, and handed Grayson a pen.
Grayson stared at the pen in his hand. “What’s this for?”
“To write your name on them—and phone number, so we know who to call when we pull the winning tickets. Got a gut feeling it’s gonna be your lucky day, Mr. Darling.”
For a moment, Grayson thought about correcting him. Far from being lucky, this had been about the worst day he could remember in months. Years, even. Maybe even worse than the day Fee asked him for a divorce.
But he’d come here for a reason. The sooner he dispensed with Tucker, the sooner he could unload his grievances on the very cause of his troubles.
Grayson scribbled his name in barely legible slashes of ink on the backs of twenty tickets, along with all ten digits of his out-of-area phone number. He handed the string of tickets back to Tucker. “Rex in there?”
“Yup. You have an appointment?”
“No and I don’t need one for what I’m about to tell him.”
Sidestepping Tucker, Grayson plunged into the dimly lit front room of Rex’s law office. Sooner slipped in behind him. It was notably tidier than the last time he’d been there. As he stomped across the front room, he could hear Rex on the phone at his desk.
“... anytime you want. We could even meet over dinner. The wife works until—”
Rex looked up from the folder in front of him. “Pardon me, Mr. Zimmerman. A client just walked in. Looks urgent. I’ll call back as soon as I can. Meanwhile, you tell those grandkids of yours how impressed I am with their accomplishments... You, too. Have a great day.”
Pushing his roller chair back, Rex stood and pointed at the leather chair across from his desk. “Grayson, have a seat. Something the matter? Can I get you a drink? No alcohol on the premises, but I learned how to make a decent cup of coffee this week. I also have bottled water for the dog and soda for you, if you prefer—red pop, root beer—”
“I didn’t come here to chitchat.” Grayson circled the large executive desk to stand within arm’s reach of the lawyer. It took all his restraint to not grab him by the bolero and shove him up against the wall.
“Something about your uncle’s farm, then? If you’ve got a problem, I’m all ears. You know I want to get that all straightened out as soon as—”
“Why did you tell her?”
For a few heartbeats, it looked like someone had just plopped Rex down in an alternate universe. “Tell who what?”
“Brandy. Why did you tell her I was going to take that job?” Grayson didn’t even wait for an answer. He had a lot bottled up inside him, and he didn’t want to hear some lame apology. “Today I showed up at the hospital to talk to her about... about things I’d been thinking about. About her. About us. Things I’d decided. And here you go and jump in the middle of it all without for a second even considering if it was your place to share personal information. If I’d known you were going to blab it to her, I never would have mentioned it. But I trusted you to keep your nose out of business that was never yours to begin with. You shouldn’t assume you know everything, because you don’t. That was rude and presumptuous of you and...”
Words eluded Grayson. All the steam he’d built up on the drive here seemed to have dissipated. Instead of volleying back excuses, Rex had let him vent without interruption. He hadn’t even so much as taken a step back in case Grayson threw a punch.
Settling himself back into his chair, Rex drummed his fingers on the armrests. “You done or just taking a breath?”
Grayson realized then Rex knew it as well as he did—Grayson didn’t have it in him to physically assault someone. He couldn’t even do a good job of lambasting him. Still, he needed to speak his mind. “It wasn’t your place.”
Rex pointed at him. “Normally, I’d agree with you, but Grayson... it pained me to see you floundering around like you have been.”
“What?”
“In the time you were gone letting the dog take a dump, I got the whole scoop on Miss Anders’ prognosis—something you haven’t managed in the hundred or so times you’ve been with her.”
“Hundred? I haven’t—”
Rex held out his palm. “Let me finish, will you? You’re sweet on that gal. Can’t even be in the same room with her without going all soft and gooey on the inside, am I right?”
Without being told again, Grayson claimed the seat across from Rex. He had flashbacks of being in Dr. Philipot’s office. “That’s personal.”
“Maybe it is, but you know what, Grayson? I care about my clients. The gentleman I was on the phone with when you barged in—his thirty-two-year-old daughter is in hospice. Terminal breast cancer. And that ain’t the worst of it. She has three kids under the age of nine. Divorced her louse of a husband a couple of years back because he liked to do a little dating on the side. To boot, he’s been in and out of jail for the past four years, so Zimmerman is trying to make sure he gets custody of the little ones and not one of the father’s lowlife kin.”
“What’s your point?” Grayson prodded.
“My point is I asked Miss Anders how soon they were going to release her and what her plans were. Nothing personal about that, either. Just taking interest in a fellow human being. You’re all concerned about going slowly and being cautious, but good heavens, son, take a risk every once in a blue moon, will you? If you like a gal, don’t be so damn shy about it—or she’ll assume you’re not interested and move on. I’ve seen sloths at the zoo move quicker than you do.”
That irked Grayson. Not the insult about sloths, but that Rex was meddling in his personal affairs and playing matchmaker. “That’s nice of you, but again, you’re assuming—”
“How long did you think she was going to wait around for you to get up the nerve to even ask her on a date?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why? Because she’s wheelchair bound?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
Grayson didn’t have a ready answer. It was far too complicated to get into right now. His relationship with Rex was of the business variety, not a personal one. Come to think of it, he didn’t even want this man as his attorney if this was his idea of attending to legal matters.
They stared at each other a good long minute—Rex waiting for a response while Grayson tried to sort out a dozen scrambled thoughts and roiling emotions into something logical and orderly. Nothing came to mind. Nothing that sounded right, anyway.
The velvety softness of a dog’s muzzle slipped beneath Grayson’s right hand, which until then, had been resting on his knee. Sooner gazed up at him with eyes that were more gold than green. Amber, almost.
She made a sound between a whimper and a growl. Say what’s in your heart, she seemed to be trying to say.
Why was it so much easier to talk to her than the people in his life? He drew in a breath, scrounged for the courage to hurl the words forth. The dog licked his fingers as if coaxing him.
“I think I... I think I love her, but...”
Rex propped an elbow on his desk, rested his chin on his fist. Stared at Grayson like he was the biggest fool this side of the Appalachian Mountains. “I see now why you’re divorced.”
Grayson clenched the arms of the chair. “That was cruel.”
“But true... and necessary.” Rex opened a drawer, then grabbed a set of car keys. “I’ve handled a lot of breakups in my day, Grayson. Most times, people are so fixated on what’s wrong that they can’t push through and see what’s right, let alone say it out loud.” He walked toward the door. “Grab the dog and come with me.”
“To where?”
“I’m taking you to where my wife works. Place called Fox Hollow.”
The only thing Grayson knew about Fox Hollow was that it was a home for old people just outside of town. A picturesque sort of prison.
Grayson hung back, offended Rex would order him to follow without letting on why he should. Even though he’d spent a lifetime setting aside his feelings in favor of a roadmap for success, something deep down inside told him Rex was going to pit him face to face with the very thing he was afraid of finding out.
He might’ve stayed in that chair, defiant and willfully ignorant, until Rex was long gone—and good riddance to him—except Sooner was following Rex out into the street.