Page 117 of Saving Grace

Harry sits on his horse, hands resting on the pommel, reins rolling through his fingertips. The epitome of calm. His gaze is set on me. One the protector, one the fighter. I huff an elated but surprised chuckle as emotion clogs my windpipe.

“What the fuck?!” Joel stumbles down the stairs.

Louisa jerks the rifle toward the car.

He turns back to me and points with a dirty finger. “This isn’t over, Grace. Enjoy your damaged boyfriend while you can. Yourdays here are over.” He pushes through the gate. Louisa’s horse steps forward, closing in on him as he slips into the Volvo. He starts it up as Timmy clambers back inside, winding his window up, like it will help him. The idiot.

“Not over, Graceless!” Joel roars as the car spins out on the gravel and barrels along the driveway.

The first breath I take burns as I turn back to Mack. He’s gripping the doorframe, his cane fallen to the floor. I didn’t hear it fall. My hand flies up covering my mouth. I shake my head. He hobbles, eating up the distance between us.

Joel called himdamaged.

The piece of my heart that tore with the comment sinks to the depths of my soul. Mack’s hands have me safe against his chest before I take my next breath.

“Sweet Jesus, I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, Grace.”

I close my eyes, letting the fear, the anger, the wounded part of me over Mack having to bear any of this, fade away.

As soon as it’s gone, the reality that this really isn’t over hits. Joel isn’t going to let this go.

And now, I have everything to lose.

Chapter Thirty-Two

MACK

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I ask as I slip my coat over my shoulders, cane leaning by the front table, Reed waiting on the threshold. Grace tilts her head with an exasperated expression.

“I will be fine, Mackinlay. Go to your appointment. I’m safe here.”

Reed shoves his Yankees cap onto his head. The thing is tattered and worn, but for some reason he won’t give it up. “She’ll be alright, Mack. We won’t be long.”

I shove my black hat on my head and close the space between Grace and me. Her hands rest on my coat, fingers fiddling with the collar as she studies my face. “Don’t forget to fill your prescription, okay?” she whispers.

I cup her jaw with my hands, planting my mouth over hers. She leans against me.

Fuck, I don’t wanna leave.

After yesterday, my nerves are up. As they should be. Despite the fact Joel left and hasn’t been heard from since, my gut tells me the threat isn’t over yet. My gut is usually right. Saved my ass more times than I can count on tour—I’m not about to ignore it now.

“Go. I’ll be painting the morning away, anyhow.” She pecks a final kiss to my jaw and slips out of my hold. Hesitating, I turn back to Reed. “Let’s get this over and done with, gunny.”

The trip to town is quiet. Me lost in thought, Reed glancing at me every few minutes as if he has something to say but hasn’t found the balls to let it out yet.

“Spill it,” I grunt.

He huffs a breath, running his hand behind his neck. “I dunno...”

“Don’t know what, Reed?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be doin’ so much ranchin’ work?” His gaze flicks to me and then back to the road.

“I’m not sitting’ around being a damn burden. That’s a fresh hell I’m not signin’ up for.”

“Sure. But?—”

“Stop.” I hold a hand up. I know he’s trying to look out for me. But I’m not having it. “It doesn’t matter how long it takes, Reed, I will be earnin’ my keep and workin’ the ranch. I’m not letting Grace shoulder the weight. Or anyone else, for that matter.” My gaze burns into his.

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