5

 

“Thank you for coming. Glad you could make it.” Graham mingled with various crew members, shaking hands, and then moved on to the next person until he made it to the edge of the crowd at the graveside. He was satisfied with the good showing from all the teams. Harley had been well-liked and respected in the racing industry.

Too bad not so much in his own family. Harley’s ex-wife and children hadn’t bothered to show up.

Graham glanced at his watch. There was still time. Maybe they would come. His gaze shot to the road where cars lined the curb, stretching as far as he could see in both directions.

Charlie, his current crew chief, stepped up beside him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about Harley, boss. I know how fond you were of the old man. We all were.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it, man.”

“Do you think his family will show up?”

“It doesn’t look that way.”

Charlie shook his head, commiserating. “Well, I’m glad you got to his place when you did. That’s a tough way to finish out your life, huh?”

“Yeah. But he wasn’t really alone. He might not have had family or friends surrounding him, but God walked with him through the valley.” Why hadn’t he curtailed going to the shop first or stopping by the fast food joint, and elected to head for Harley’s house sooner? But according to the medical team that worked on Harley, arriving earlier that morning wouldn’t have changed the outcome.

Charlie nodded. “I hear ya.”

Movement along the road caught Graham’s attention. Had Harley’s family members finally decided to make an appearance?

A tall, slender man and a female walked towards the tent. Suddenly the female turned around abruptly and headed in the opposite direction. The man hurried after her, sliding an arm around her shoulders and leaning close to speak to her in low tones, a worried expression on his face.

Wait a minute. Was that—Rori? She’d come after all.

He sighed, gratefulness filling and overflowing his heart. Thank You, Lord.

“Excuse me, Charlie.” He slapped his crew chief’s shoulder and hustled over to Rori.

She’d pulled her long dark hair into a twist at the nape of her neck. Wearing black dress slacks and a turquoise sweater that clung to her gentle female curves, her pure and natural beauty made his breath hitch, but the lightly applied makeup couldn’t conceal the puffy, dark hollows around her eyes. Loneliness? Heartache? Or had this guy said something to upset her?

One glance at the man, concern and care all over his face, told Graham that wasn’t the case.

“Rori.” He held out his hand, warmth spreading through his limbs when her soft hand settled in his. Her sweet smile just about did him in. If she hadn’t arrived with this fella, he’d have tugged her into his arms to chase away the loneliness that seemed to plague them both.

“Graham, this is my brother, Burk.” She transferred her smile to the tall, suited man standing next to her.

Her brother? Graham tamped back the pleasure that raced through his veins. She’d brought her brother? Why hadn’t Graham spotted the resemblance between brother and sister? Dark hair, slender build, striking brown flecks gracing jade colored eyes. “Glad to meet you, Burk. You’re a lifesaver, man. I appreciate the use of your clothes.” He offered a hand.

A puzzled look crossed Burk’s face as they shook hands.

“Oh, I can see that didn’t come out right.” Grimacing, Graham pulled his arm back and scrubbed fingers across his jaw, hoping to hide the silly grin that slid across his face since knowing this was her brother. He’d better set the record straight. Wouldn’t want her brother to think badly of him right off. “It’s not like…she, I, um—”

“He had a run in with Jumbo, and I let him borrow your shirt.” Rori offered.

Burk nodded, wrinkling his nose. “We’ve all suffered similar incidents from that one. But the big lug’s been through a lot. I think he’ll behave better under my sister’s loving care.”

“I’m sure of that.” That didn’t sound right, either. What was wrong with him? Heat burned his neck and made its way up to his face. He cupped Rori’s elbow and leaned close, her spicy scent tickling his nose and zapping even more flames to life through his body. “Thank you for coming,” he whispered.

She smiled, but it was mostly just lip gesture.

“Would you like to sit inside the tent?”

She shook her head, shrinking back. Was that fear flitting across her pretty features? Or just general distaste for memorial services?

“No, thanks. I think we’ll be good standing out here. Right, Burk?” She took a step back, glancing towards her brother for confirmation.

Burk nodded and halted her retreat by placing a hand against her back, his black shoes firmly planted in the grass.

The pastor started to speak, and Graham turned his attention to the tent.

Lord, let the pastor’s words be Your words. Please don’t let Harley’s death be in vain. Allow him in death to bring honor and glory to You, just as he did in living.

 

****

 

What was she doing here? She shouldn’t have come. Darkness swirled, threatening to overwhelm her.

The coffin. The pastor’s message. The finality of death. Never seeing her father again. Whispers. Stares. Pointed fingers.

A tremor started in her legs and worked its way up to her shoulders. She braced her arms across her chest, fairly certain that her teeth would start chattering any second.

Graham angled his head sideways, but she didn’t dare look at him or she’d break down. He must be suffering tremendous pain, losing his long time friend. Her heart ached for him in his loss, but she couldn’t stay here much longer.

An arm tugged and tucked her under a shoulder, next to blessed warmth. She looked up and smiled her thanks, her lips quivering. Graham.

He just lost one of his best friends, and he was offering her comfort? Dampness trickled down her cheeks. She sniffled.

A tissue appeared in front of her face, this time from her left. Burk.

She took it and wiped her face and nose, grateful for the tenderness and care from both men. She expected it from her brother, but Graham? Her cheek nestled against the fabric of Graham’s coat. His clean and spicy scent mingled with the cool outdoors, calming her until the tremors settled. Her body relaxed against his wall of solid muscle.

The pastor’s words, confident and comforting, flowed through her.

Please, God, I want that peace that the pastor speaks of, and that Graham models with his life, for myself. Please heal my wounded spirit. Help me break free from this bondage of fear that grips me tighter than a vice. The prayer, along with a sigh, slipped out from the deepest part of her soul. Would God come through? Might He finally loosen the shackles of fear?

Still tucked in the security of Graham’s side, Rori glanced around the large gathering. Every seat inside the tent was occupied, and a crowd huddled close together outside to hear the eulogy. If Rori didn’t know better, she’d think that Graham’s friend was well-liked and respected. But she knew better. Sure. Some people attended memorials to pay their respects, but others came to gawk. To gossip. Perhaps to snatch a photo of a celebrity like Graham.

Where did she fit in? She came because Graham cared about this man. But why did that matter? He hadn’t been completely honest with her about who he was until she’d confronted him. She’d do best to remember that he was a celebrity, an icon, worthy of media frenzy.

She stole another glance around the crowd. It didn’t look like there were any reporters here, and she hadn’t seen any camera flashes. No hands concealed microphones, just waiting to pop up in front of her face at the earliest opportunity.

Graham’s arm tightened around her, as if he knew what she was thinking.

Rori sneaked a peek at his profile. Freshly shaved jaw. Strong cheekbones. Warm eyes, the color of perfectly roasted coffee beans. A cowlick that always stood up in front, no matter how many times he raked his fingers through it. And usually an impish grin that was noticeably absent today.

Her pulse accelerated, and bumps raced up and down her arms, but not from the cool air. Her fingers ached to reach up and touch his rough cheeks, to trail the line of his strong jaw, to glide through his hair to see if it was as soft as she imagined. Not only was he nice to look at, but the man also sure could warm a body.

She blinked, stunned. No! Falling for a racecar driver? This could not be happening. It couldn’t. No way.

 

****

 

“Thank you, Pastor. I appreciate your message more than you can imagine.” Graham shook hands with the preacher, but his gaze followed Rori and her brother, slowly making their way to Burk’s car.

“You’re mighty welcome. I was honored to be asked.”

He said his goodbye as he slipped the courtesy envelope into the pastor’s hand, and then practically sprinted to catch up with Rori.

Burk fumbled for something by his side, and then pulled out a cellphone and pressed it to his ear, slowing his steps. A reprieve.

Slowing his pace as he neared, Graham made a mental note to thank him later.

“Sure. I’ll be right there.” Burk clipped the cellphone against his belt. “Rori, I need to get you home. That was the city manager—”

Noting Burk’s furrowed brows and worried expression, Graham stepped into their personal zone. “I can take her home, Burk.”

Burk arched a brow and glanced at Rori, waiting for her response.

Rori hesitated only for a second before nodding. “Thank you, Graham. I appreciate the offer.” She reached up and kissed her brother’s cheek. “Thanks for bringing me, Burk. I’ll call you later, OK?”

“You got it. Sorry to leave you like this.” Burk stared into his sister’s face. Was Burk debating whether to leave her with him or not?

“No worries. I’ll take good care of her,” Graham said.

Burk must have gotten the answer he was looking for. He flicked his head in acknowledgement, sliding keys from his pocket and hustling towards his car, his long stride eating up the distance quickly.

Rori’s gaze followed her brother until he disappeared from sight. She sighed.

“That bad, huh?”

“What?”

“The idea of riding home with me.” Disappointment jabbed him in the gut, and fatigue from the long hours spent dividing his time at the ranch and the shop strained his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Graham. That’s not it at all. Really.”

He pulled out his keys. “Ready?”

“It depends.” A dimple flashed unexpectedly. Mischief teased from the slant of her lips.

“On?”

“What car you’re driving.”

His brows shot to the top of his head, and his heart lightened. She couldn’t be too upset with him if she was giving him a hard time. Could she? A cool breeze ruffled her hair. He leaned close, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. He sucked in a breath, his gaze drawn to the creaminess of her neck. Just as he thought. Soft and silky. Touching her could definitely be addictive. His fingers ached to release the clip and run his hand down the entire length of it. A whiff of cinnamon and cloves drifted his way. She always smelled so—

She gasped, almost imperceptible, so that he felt her intake of breath more than heard it.

He didn’t realize his fingers had slid down to caress her jaw until she eased back, away from his touch, clearing his head of thoughts he had no business entertaining. What was he thinking? Hit the brakes, Decker! Not so fast. “It’s a good thing that I brought the truck, then,” he said, clearing the huskiness from his throat.

She slanted him a sideways glance as they started walking, her lips curving sweetly. “Why?”

“Because if I brought my racecar, you’d have to slide into the seat through the window.”

“That wouldn’t be a pretty sight.”

Oh, he begged to differ. “Are you fishing for compliments? Because if you are—”

“I miss Goliath.” She gave him a playful swat on the arm and changed the subject.

“Yeah. Me, too, but I didn’t feel right bringing him graveside. He’s sleeping in the truck.”

She shot him a grin, her face brightening. “Really?”

“Really.” Little things sure seemed to please her. How did she handle big things? “It’s cool enough that he can stay in the truck with the windows cracked, and I left him some water.”

They made it to the parking lot, and Graham pressed the unlock button. The drive to the sanctuary would only last forty-five minutes, more or less. A nice meal might work wonders for damage control with Rori. He glanced at his watch, mentally calculating what he needed to do before he left for the airport. Would he have enough time for them to snag a table in his favorite restaurant? They should be able to swing it. He opened the passenger door for her. “Want to grab a bite to eat at Kramer’s while we’re in town?”

Was that fear that flashed across her features? Surely not. What could she be afraid of? Him? He’d spent days on the farm, just her and him. She couldn’t be afraid of him, could she?

“Thank you, but—” Her back stiffened. Her hands clenched at her sides until her knuckles whitened.

Definitely afraid of something, but he didn’t have time to press. “Or we could grab something and take it to your house. That might work better, anyway, since I have to be at the airport in a few hours.”

She nodded, her relief obvious in the way her shoulders relaxed and her hands flexed. She smiled at him as she hiked herself into the truck and slid into the seat. “That sounds nice.”

Maybe she just didn’t like to go out to eat. Filing that away, Graham walked around the truck and hopped in.

“You’re such a sweet boy. I’m so glad you came with Graham.” Rori’s body was angled sideways in the seat, her fingers giving his dog a brisk rub around the ears. She buried her face in his furry neck, and then planted a kiss on his muzzle.

Graham tamped down the envy. Was she as glad to see him as she was to see his dog? Probably not.

 

****

 

“Will you be sorry to see me leave?” Graham asked.

The rascal. His face sported an impish look, as if he was baiting her. Rori almost choked on the water sliding down her throat. “No.”

He grinned, as if he knew she wasn’t being truthful.

Yeah. She’d be sorry to see him go. There. She admitted it, if only to herself. She stole a sideways glance at him, the last fork of lasagna halfway to her mouth, the tantalizing scents of tomato, cheese and spices drifting around her face.

As usual, his hair spiked up in the front, but he was missing the customary scruff along his cheeks. His suit jacket and tie were draped across the back of the chair. Black curly hair poked out from where he’d unfastened the top few buttons of his burgundy dress shirt. Instead of form fitting jeans for working on the farm, today he wore charcoal gray slacks.

Her gaze lingered on him. How did this man always look so good? He probably even looked fabulous in his racing suit. She jerked her gaze to Goliath, lazing near the table. Was she enamored with Graham because he was the only other person besides Savvy or her family who came to the sanctuary regularly? Because he treated the animals like they were his family, too? Or because he’d wiggled through the cracks surrounding her heart? Whatever. Rori didn’t like it.

There was no future for them. A racecar driver and a social phobic?

She jammed the fork into her mouth and chewed, but the rich cheese and tomato goodness had lost its flavor. She tossed the napkin on the table and shoved her chair back. “Thank you for the ride home. And for dinner.”

“My pleasure.” His eyes glinted warmth when he smiled.

Her pulse picked up speed, and she hooked her foot against the chair rung, stumbling forward.

He reached out a hand to steady her, but his warm grip only made her heart beat more erratically.

Oh, if only she could turn off her physical response to him. Just another thing to add to the list of reasons why she shouldn’t allow Graham to keep coming back to the sanctuary.

“Thanks.” She scooped up the disposable trays and hastily made her way to the trashcan and tossed them in.

He followed, carrying the empty cups, but detoured to the sink.

There was that scent again, the one she’d caught earlier at the cemetery, when he’d tucked her under his arm. Something spicy with a little citrus mixed in, and definitely too masculine for her peace of mind. She took a deep breath, confused with her warring feelings. On the one hand, she wanted to tell him never to come back, but if she did, she’d miss—

“Come to the race with me.”

She backed into a solid wall of…chest. She turned around to face him. “W-what?”

Some strange emotion glowed from his eyes and curved his lips. “You heard me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not. I don’t do—”

He shook his head, his face taking on a look of firm resolve as he took a step back. “I didn’t mean it that way, Rori. You could stay with a friend and his wife in their RV. I have an RV, too, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay with me.”

That was awfully sweet of him to concern himself with her reputation. But what would he say if he knew that she didn’t do crowds? Temptation snaked into her heart for a second, but as appealing as the offer of spending time with Graham sounded, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes. She gave her head a little wobble. “I can’t.”

He angled his head, studying her face. His nostrils flared as a sigh rippled from his chest. Nodding, he tugged his jacket from the chair and slipped it over his arms. “Next week maybe.”

“Maybe.” It was her turn to sigh. She followed him to the door, her footsteps as heavy as her heart. What was going on with her? How had her life suddenly gotten so out of control?

He stopped abruptly and turned.

Her hands flew up to splay against his chest to keep from bumping into him. She dared to look up. Soft brown eyes, filled with the shock and pain of losing a friend, stared back at her. Her limbs felt as if they’d slink into a puddle on the floor. What was her mistake? Looking up or walking too close behind him? Or maybe it was inviting him back to her place for dinner. Whatever it was, her chest strangled the air from her lungs and refused to let it loose.

His palms cupped her cheeks.

Oh, she was really in trouble here.

Lids covered those gorgeous eyes. His head dipped, and his breath whispered against her lips.

She closed her eyes. What would his kiss, a kiss, taste like? How should she respond? She’d never been kissed before, never allowed a guy to get close enough. Other than her brothers, that is, but those kisses were just brotherly pecks on her forehead or cheek.

Goliath barked.

Enough of a warning to put the skids on her heart and allow her brain to take control once again. Her eyes zapped open to find his face dangerously close. Fear ratcheted through her belly. What was she thinking? She put some pressure on his chest and stepped back. Not far enough that her heart didn’t stop racing and the blood pumping through her body didn’t feel like it was zapping her with a thousand volts of electricity.

His palms never left her cheeks. When his lids opened, surprise flashed across his face. He was probably used to girls fawning all over him. Not happening with this girl.

But there was something else. Respect?

“Graham, I, um…” She licked her dry lips, but stopped when his gaze lingered there. “I’m sorry.”

His lips quirked up on one side. “Yeah. Me, too. But it’s OK.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. A kiss that felt anything but brotherly.

At least she was back in the safe territory.

“I’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“You will?” It was her turn to be surprised.

He nodded. “Count on it.” There he was again with that promise.

Could she count on him?

He opened the door and the pleasant harmony of frogs and cicadas swept inside. He stepped into the darkness and long strides took him to his truck too fast, Goliath bounding along behind him.

Her fingers traced a path along her cheeks as she stood in the doorway. She’d wanted him to kiss her, more than that quick peck on her forehead. That frightened her more than if he actually had.