Page 92 of Saving Grace

I haven’t had an episode like that since before Grace arrived. Sure, I had that small thing with the plate. But nothing like this since the hospital. I was doing great. I thought I was okay. Thought I’d moved past it. I got caught up in my head. About Grace. More specifically, the absence of her. And it’s the most helpless I have felt since the explosion. It was the sensation of absolute desperation my brain must have linked to the only other similar experience it could.

A sob claws its way up my throat.

No way in hell do I want to associate Grace with any of it. She is the reason I made it this far.

Fuck.

Tears fall, hot and fast, down my burning cheeks.

No, fuck.

“I don’t want to lose yo—” The words fall apart with my face.

Her hands close around my face before the next heartbeat. Her face twists with devastation. “Hey, you’re okay. I’m right here. You’re home. You’re safe. Mack.” Her forehead drops onto mine. “I am not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, sweet man.”

“What if I can’t get past this, Grace?”

“You will. You have—it’s only a relapse. I read that can happen. With time, they get further and further apart. Ipromisethis will get easier.”

“You read up on PTSD?”

“Of course, came with the job description. Louisa sent me some light reading.” With a soft smile, she snuggles into me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Course she did.”

Ma is always taking care of her family. Where the hell would any of us be without her?

When I’ve relaxed enough to drop my head on her shoulder, Grace raises to her feet and drops a hand down. “Come on, shower and bed. I want you wrapped around me. That comes withyourjob description, Mack.”

Grace is always pulling me up and along with her. Not letting me wallow. Making me do the hard yards. She sees me. She raises me one up and expects me to do it for myself. And I do. But deep down, I do it for her. There will never be a time when I will be able to deny this girl the things she asks for.

Not one moment in time.

Chapter Twenty-Four

GRACE

It’s a good thing I’m not taking the Rawlinses’ hard-earned money anymore. Because mycaringfor Mackinlay is as dodgy as it gets. Heavens above, it seems every time he has an episode, it revolves around something I do. At this point, I think time to himself at the ranch is the last remaining piece of the puzzle to let him heal. He doesn’t need me holding his hand. Not anymore.

Not sure if he ever did . . .

I’m sitting in Blue, parked by the curb in front of the Lewistown Arts Center. Day one of my new job. Currently, I’m trying desperately not to be swallowed whole by the swarm of whatever invaded my stomach. My hands tremble a little. I keep thinking any minute now Don is going to figure out he made a mistake. That I’m a fraud. No talent. No experience in the art department.

Sweet Jesus.

Huh. The phrase pulls a smile over my lips.

Thank you, Mack.

I am happy to have a new direction. This direction. It’s a huge step in the right direction for me. Career-wise and independence-wise. Don pulls in driving an old Mercedes that’sfrom before Jesus and I push out the driver’s side door of Blue and grab my purse. I shove her key into the door and lock it, turning back to find Don holding two coffees in a tray with a huge smile on his face.

He’s definitely a morning person.

“Morning,” I say, shouldering my bag as he lifts a paper cup from the tray and hands it to me. “Oh, you didn’t have to...”

“The way we start our day is everything. I figure that goes for first days as well. So, here’s to a good start.” He tips his cup in cheers toward mine. I reciprocate, pleasantly surprised. I mean, living and working with Mack and his family has almost rewired my brain to expect the best in people. This is above and beyond for a first day, boss-employee moment, I’m sure.

“Right, let’s get this day rollin’.” Don takes a sip before unlocking the double glass doors that mark the front entrance of the Arts Center. I take a tentative sip myself. It’s hot but not burning, and I take another. Cappuccino. Lovely.

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