Page 125 of Saving Grace

“Alright. When?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

He smiles, pressing his forehead to mine. His signature move, and one of my favorites. “Sounds perfect.”

We settle into the hug for a moment before continuing on toward my work. Mack isn’t using his cane. His gait is a little wobbly, but there’s no telling him otherwise. So damn determined, this man. The front door chimes as we push through. Don greets us with open arms.

“Miss Gracie! How wonderful is it to see you.” He has me in a hug before I have the chance to object. I guess I gave everyone a scare.

Small towns grow on you. Lewistown feels like home to me.

“Careful, Don,” Mack says, “wouldn’t want to start up the old rumor mill.”

Don pats my back, making space between us.

I roll my eyes at Mackinlay. “You’ll keep, cowboy.”

He bends down, his lips by my ear. “I most certainly hope so, captain.”

I give him a quizzical look. I never did ask what the captain thing is all about. Shaking my head, I walk to the front desk. The computer is on. The bookings sheet is open. Every last spot is filled for the art classes for the next six months. The small group I started with has grown to twenty-four per class. “What on earth...”

Don slips into view, his hands in his pockets, a grin stretching his kind face. “Thought that might cheer you up.”

I stare at him. He did this?

“I—”

He holds a hand up. “Told you all this town needs is new blood. You, Gracie, are the new blood. We are excited to watch you liven this old town up.”

My mouth gapes.

“Also, some of the patrons have suggested artist retreats out at R & R. I trust you can run it past Mrs. Rawlins?”

He means Ruby. I chuckle. “Yes, I can absolutely do that.”

“Excellent. I’ll leave you young ones to your morning. I’ll see you Monday, Grace.” He walks out the back with a smile and a wave.

I turn to find Mack leaning on the front counter, happiness etched all over his handsome-as-hell face. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”

I groan at him. “Yes, Mackinlay.”

“Good. Better get used to me lovin’ on you, gorgeous girl.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He winks at me.

“Okay . . .”

With a chuckle, he holds out a hand, and we walk back through the front doors. One last duck to find and usher into the steady row I now have.

Mama.

The undercarriage squeals at contact with the runway. I grip the armrest with one hand. Mack has the other encapsulated in his. Large and warm, his hand grounds me. The captain turns off the seatbelt sign, and I grab my carry-on from above. Mack grabs his before commandeering mine as we disembark.

You can do this, Grace. Look how far you’ve come.After everything that happened with Joel, explaining a few things to my folks shouldn’t be a big deal. My throat closes with emotion. I want to talk to Mama. Seeing her for less than an hour at my birthday was like being given the one thing you needed most, only to have it ripped away seconds later.

Mack folds in around me. His heady scent is an instant comfort. He transfers both bags to one hand and laces his fingers through my own. The cowboy hat on his head is out of place. It makes me giggle. But I love it. Love him.

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