Page 65 of Saving Grace

With Trigger tucked up in his stall and thoroughly loved up on, I lead Grace back to the house. With a quick shower, we crawl into bed, and sleep takes her under before I have a chance to tell her what today meant to me.

Whatshemeans to me.

I guess I will have to show her at Ma’s in a few days’ time.

I have plans for her twenty-first birthday do-over. To see her smile, I would do just about anything. So, I roped in the cavalry.

Chapter Seventeen

GRACE

Mack is acting strangely. He’s been distracted all day. Checking his phone every hour. What is with this man? Said device now lies on the kitchen counter in front of me as I rub seasoning into the skin of a whole chicken. I was instructed to make it for Sunday lunch that turned into early supper because of Harry’s workload this week. Buzzing, the phone vibrates over the hard surface. I dare a peek at the sender.

Ruby.

Curious.

“That my phone or yours?” He flies down the hallway and snatches his phone up from the countertop. Sliding the message open, a smile splits his handsome face. I fold my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow.

“Something you wanna share with the class, Mackinlay?”

“Hey, what—” He’s furiously tapping out a reply, not looking up. He finally snaps his gaze up. “Huh, you say something?”

“Spill, Rawlins.”

He pecks my cheek. “Sorry, gorgeous girl. Can’t.” He practically bounces on his feet. The worn-out Wranglers and light blue T-shirt he’s wearing show off his shape that’s becoming more defined by the day. On long, determined strides,he’s out of sight before I have the chance to form a rebuttal. Shaking my head, I return my attention to the chicken. I plan on roasting it for an hour at Louisa’s.

It’s the first time I have made my favorite dish since Mississippi. Making this always makes me homesick. Parent-sick? Mama-sick, to be more specific. We used to make this together. I guess that’s why it became a staple when I lived in Mississippi, my way of clinging to the one person I desperately needed and missed. Miss.

I still miss Mama so bad.

Sometimes, I wonder if I shouldn’t anymore. I mean, I’m not a child anymore. Or a frustrated teen. But her warm cuddles. The sounds of her chuckle. The way she would hug me, one arm around my waist, the other behind my neck, drawing her forehead to mine...

Today is exactly six months since my twenty-first birthday. Another thing I lost, not having Mama there for that particular milestone. Wetness splashes the counter between the roasting tray and the marble edge. Thickness coats my airways, and a burn blooms at the bridge of my nose.

I never thought there would come a day when my mom wasn’t a part of my life. Then I blinked, and she wasn’t. Now, I’m miles away from her. It may as well be an entire continent. I chug a sob, rubbing the seasoning in some more.Sorry, chicken, but this hurt’s got to go somewhere.I rub the shoulder of my sleeve over one eye, then do the same with the other.

Losing her is the thing I regret most. The one thing I would change if I could.

The rest taught me about myself.

Mothers and daughters aren’t built to be separated.

Not this daughter, at least.

Warm arms fold around me. “Be ready to go in an hour?” His stubbled chin drops to my shoulder, his jaw scratching thehollow where my neck meets my shoulder. I giggle a sob-laugh. “Must be one depressing bird to have this girl all choked up,” he says.

“Must be...” I rest my cheek on his head and breathe him in. After the sadness has dissipated, I dot a kiss to his temple and stand tall. “Me and Cheryl here will be dressed and set to supper in no time.”

“Cheryl?”

“That’s this delicious girl’s name.”

“Grace, baby, you can’t name the bird you’re eatin’.”

“Why not? She deserves respect, too. Just because we are higher up the food chain doesn’t mean we have to behave like animals, Mackinlay.”

He chuckles. “You are too sweet for your own good, you know that, right?”

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