16
Rori tugged a piece of candy from her pocket and took her time unwrapping it. She plunked it in her mouth and leaned her forearms on the pasture rail.
Graham hadn’t come today.
So that was it. He’d finally admitted to himself that there couldn’t be a “them.”
She sucked on the chocolate until she tasted the creamy peanut butter, watching the llamas grazing about the field. A cool breeze lifted strands of hair, wrapping it around her eyes. She brushed it away, her fingers coming away moist. She swiped her cheek with the arm of her denim jacket. She’d missed him today.
She’d missed the roar of his truck as he pulled in the driveway. Had missed his broad shoulders as he slipped in and out of the pastures to feed the llamas and the horses. Had missed lingering over lunch with him, talking, and catching a whiff of his distinctly masculine mixture of woods and fresh outdoors.
And yeah, she missed his kisses. The feel of his strong hands wrapping around her waist and his lips connecting with hers. Missed hearing him whisper that all things were possible. That “they” were possible.
Was a relationship with Graham a dead end? Did it have to be? Would she be better off without him in her life? No. She bounced out of bed on the mornings that she knew he was coming. He made the days so much sweeter, so much brighter with his presence.
She couldn’t stand the thought that he wouldn’t be dropping by anymore.
Ryan was right. Saying yes to Graham was so much sweeter than saying no.
God, I’m so sick of being afraid to live my life. I love Graham. I don’t want this to be the end, but rather the beginning. Help me to overcome this fear that’s literally strangling me. Help me be the woman You created me to be. She lifted her face to the sky, draped with streaks of pink and purple, allowing the gentle breeze to cool her skin and for God’s whisper to sink deep into her spirit.
You can do it.
How?
With My strength.
She closed her eyes and bowed her head. In the quiet part of her soul, she knew what she had to do.
****
Graham signed the paper on his desk, his handwriting more forceful than usual, and then flicked the pen out of his grasp. It landed on the wood top with a ping. Leaning back in the chair, he sighed and rammed a hand through his hair.
“Tough day, boss?” Charlie lounged in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame. How long had he been standing there?
Frustration and indecision boiled in his gut. “Not so much tough, as long.”
“Maybe you’re not where you should be.”
He scowled at Charlie, whose words slammed into his brain with the force of a sledgehammer.
Charlie shrugged, ignoring his glare. “You haven’t been in the office on a Tuesday or Wednesday for weeks now.”
He huffed. “Don’t remind me. My inbox is overflowing.”
“OK. So maybe your head says you should be here, but your heart’s telling you otherwise.”
Graham picked up the pen and fiddled with it, tossing it in the air and catching it, letting Charlie’s comment slide.
“So what are you doing here today? Why aren’t you at the sanctuary?”
“Giving Rori some time.”
Charlie scoffed. “Some time? For what? To forget about you? To rethink getting involved with this whole”—Charlie swept the office with his arm—“racing business?”
Graham wagged his head back and forth, sorrow filling the hollow chasm in his heart. He scrubbed a hand across his whiskered cheeks. “I can’t do this to her.”
Charlie closed the door and shuffled into the office, sinking deep into the chair in front of Graham’s desk. “Does this have something to do with her father?”
Graham gave a single nod of his head, and then pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I thought it might.”
“She has a tough time dealing with reporters. After my interview with Nan Greenway yesterday, I can see why.”
“Didn’t go well?”
“Nah. That’s not it. Nan’s just doing her job. But that’s just it. Reporters tend to get a little nosey. The less scrupulous ones dig and poke around until they get the dirt they’re looking for. If they hurt somebody in the process, that’s just a casualty of the job.”
“You don’t want Rori to get hurt.”
“That’s the last thing I want.” He shook his head. “But a relationship with me is bound to bring the reporters crawling out of the woodwork.”
“Want my advice?”
Graham swallowed, hesitated. “She made it clear—”
“Well, you’re getting it anyway. Rori’s a special lady to have survived what she did and not be bitter or resentful. I remember when her daddy committed suicide. The media dragged her momma through the fire and back. Rori’s made of tough stuff. More than you give her credit.”
“That’s not true. I give her lots—”
“I’m not finished. If God means for you to be together, He’ll work it out.”
He had a point there.
“But that’s not going to happen with you sitting here in this office.”
Ouch. That’s exactly what he’d been telling himself every day this week.
“She came to the race, didn’t she?”
Graham nodded.
Charlie’s head bobbed as he continued his tirade. “The little lady stayed to the very end. That says a lot right there. She cares about you enough to face those demons.”
A smile tugged at Graham’s lips. The first all week.
“She mighta got a little queasy thinking about the crowd there at the end, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t give it her best shot.”
Remorse slammed through Graham’s blood. Yeah. She did. She had lasted all day Saturday and then until the race was over on Sunday. He’d introduced her to his friends, left her alone with them, and she hadn’t complained once about being out of her comfort zone. She was a real trooper.
“So why aren’t you there giving her your best shot?”
“What do you mean?” It was a good thing Charlie had worked for him a long time, and Graham trusted his opinion and respected his advice. Otherwise, he might have kicked him out of his office.
“With her background, my guess is it took a lot for her to be there for you. I’m sure she feels bad about leaving, probably even hurting in here.” Charlie thumped his chest. “But that just means she could use your support and encouragement right now. More than she’s ever gotten from anyone before.” Charlie’s jaw tightened, and he growled. “But that means you have to be there for her. Not this ‘give her some time’ business.”
Graham rubbed the back of his neck. Was Charlie right? Was he hurting Rori more by not being there for her?