Betting on Grace (20 page)

A little later that night

Grant crawled into his house around ten thirty with
just enough strength to make it to the couch after grabbing a bottle of water
from the refrigerator. After the exertion from their evening activities, Grant
didn’t think he’d be able to make it as far as the bedroom.

He knew he should’ve been at Gracie’s, should’ve
stayed in bed with her and Lane and slept right there, but his mind wouldn’t
wind down. He was still worried about his mother, and tossing and turning all
night would’ve just disturbed Gracie and Lane. Which was why he’d woken them up
to inform them that he had to go.

Neither of them had been happy, but Grant — following
the theme of the day — had told them the truth. Although they tried to talk him
out of leaving, he got the impression they understood.

On his way home, he had realized that with everything
going on, he hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Jerry about what had happened that
morning with Darrell — and his intentions to do so had been good.

Your own damn fault. You’re the one who wasted half
the day waiting for your father to show up.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. The stupid little voice wasn’t
telling him anything he didn’t already know. Lucky for the voice, Grant wasn’t
interested in arguing. Even with himself.

He took it as a good sign that Jerry hadn’t hunted him
down, though. He still wasn’t sure the man wasn’t going to, but for now, he opted
to breathe a sigh of relief.

On top of not hearing from Jerry, Grant hadn’t heard a
peep out of his father, either. Not one single text or phone call ever since
the blowup in Jerry’s office, which offered him a sense of both worry and
relief. Neither more prominent than the other.

If Darrell wasn’t harassing him, then there was
probably a reason for it. Like the man was up to no good, and Grant was going
to pay for it in the end.

Closing his eyes, his head resting on the cushioned
back of the couch, he willed the thoughts away. He did not want to sit there
and ponder his father’s whereabouts or what he was up to. Nothing good would
come of it.

Grant’s eyes flew open as one thing came to mind.

Holy shit.

Surely not.

Crap.

Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees,
Grant dropped his head into his hands. Surely, Jerry hadn’t given Darrell a
job… What if Darrell showed up on Monday morning ready to go to work? Wouldn’t
that just be all fucked up?

Grant’s thoughts came to a screeching halt.
Oh,
hell.
What if Jerry had loaned Darrell money? That would be the last thing
that needed to happen. He’d much rather have to deal with working alongside his
father day in and day out than be indebted to Jerry Lambert. And if that were
true, then Grant needed to get with Jerry so he could set up a payment plan
because there was no way in hell that Darrell was good for the money, no matter
what he’d told Grant’s boss.

Shit.

Forcing himself to his feet, Grant grabbed his truck
keys from the counter. He was too damned tired to walk back to the main house,
even if it was only ten minutes at most.

A minute later, he was in his truck, easing along the
dirt path that wound through the ranch. He noticed that Jerry’s office light
was on, which meant the man was probably burning the midnight oil, although
midnight was still a couple of hours off.

Jerry Lambert wasn’t a man who stayed up late.

At least not that Grant could tell.

No, good ol’ Jerry was usually locked up tight in the
house by seven on a good night.

Pulling up to the office, Grant tossed the truck in park
and climbed out. The night was still, not even a breeze stirring the trees; the
only sound was the gravel crunching beneath Grant’s boots.

Sometimes he hated summer in Texas. By the time he
made it to Jerry’s office door, just a few measly yards away, he was sweating.

Wanting to get this over with, Grant rapped his
knuckles lightly on the door before turning the knob.

Uh…

Oh, fucking hell.

Grant pulled himself up short and blinked rapidly as
he tried to figure out what he was seeing. It took all of two seconds for his
synapses to kick in, and he was backing out the way he’d come, easing the door
shut, a wide grin forming on his face as he started to chuckle like a school
kid.

Holy shit.

Jerry had a woman in there. And he wasn’t going over
the books with her, either. Well, they were kind of
over
the books, from
a technical standpoint. After all, the woman was on the desk.

“What are you doing out here? Is my dad in there?”

Faith jolted Grant from his chuckle-fest, and he
turned to face her, every ounce of humor draining out of him at the sight of the
youngest Lambert daughter. “He’s … uh… No, he’s not,” Grant lied.

Making his way to where Faith stood, he tried to
distract her, hoping she wouldn’t insist on checking for herself because … mother
of all things holy, Jerry was making out with a woman right there on his desk.

Yes. On. The. Desk.

Thank God Jerry and the mystery woman were both
dressed because Grant wasn’t sure his eyes would’ve been able to tolerate the
sight of his boss naked. Not that he didn’t think Jerry was built like a brick
shithouse or anything, but seeing Jerry and a woman would be like seeing his
own parents going at it.

That was a scene that would require Grant to bleach
his brain.

“Can I help you with something?” Grant asked, coming
to a stop directly in front of Faith.

“No.” Her answer was quick, and if Grant wasn’t
mistaken, it was also a little sad.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“But your truck’s right there.”

Grant peered over his shoulder, realizing his truck
was, in fact, right there.

Hmmm.

How to get out of that one.

“I’m having problems with it. I was gonna have Cody
look at it in the morning,” he lied again.

This was certainly not his finest hour.

“Oh. Okay.”

Faith turned and started walking, so Grant fell into
step with her.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

It wasn’t that he was in the mood to talk. He was
actually ready to face plant on the hard ground at his feet, but he really
didn’t want Faith to see her father making out with a woman in his office. Ol’
Jerry needed to learn to lock the door.

“Yes. Maybe. No,” Faith responded, clearly
exasperated.

Grant didn’t say a word, not wanting to interrupt in
the event she was going to continue.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Can you have a talk with Rusty?” she asked, turning
her bright blue-green eyes on Grant.

“Talk to him?”
Please, please, please, don’t let
this be personal.
“Is he doin’ somethin’ he shouldn’t be doin’?”

“Technically, yes,” Faith said, stopping abruptly and
turning to face him. Grant forced his feet to come to a standstill, taking a
deep breath.

“
Technically?
”

“Yeah,” Faith reiterated. “He’s askin’ me to go out
with him.”

Shit.
This
was almost as bad as walking in on Jerry. Grant decided to play along. “And
that’s a bad thing, why?”

“Because my father
forbids
any of the ranch
hands to date his daughters.”

“Don’t you think maybe that’s just your dad being a …
I don’t know, maybe just being a dad?”

“No,” Faith said adamantly. “I don’t think that’s just
him throwin’ his weight around. My dad’s serious when he says we can’t date the
cowboys. Remember Garrett Daniels?”

“Yeah,” Grant said hesitantly. He remembered Garrett.
He’d been the head wrangler about five years earlier, before Hope had stepped
into the role.

“Dad fired him because he stood up to him, said he
wanted to date Trinity. Went so far as to tell my father that he didn’t care
what he said. A week later, he was fired, and Hope stepped into the role as
head wrangler.”

Shit.

“I thought…”

“That Garrett got caught using the equipment after
hours?” Faith asked. “Did you actually believe that crap? That’s the story they
ended up tellin’ people. I mean, seriously, would my dad really care that
Garrett was usin’ equipment after hours? Hell, most of the wranglers do it.”

Yeah, Grant knew that. They all used the equipment
after hours, mostly the mechanic’s tools when they were working on their
personal vehicles, sometimes taking one of the work vehicles into town for
personal trips, or every now and again taking the horses out when they brought
a woman to the ranch. No, he didn’t believe that Jerry would fire Garrett for
that reason. Surely not. “Did you ask Trin about it?”

“Didn’t have to. She was so upset when it was all
over, she locked herself in her cabin for a week.”

Grant didn’t even know what to say to that, but he had
to cop to a moment of panic as he thought about Jerry booting him from the
ranch for dating Gracie. Or worse, Jerry sending both him
and
Lane
packing… No, scratch that… Worse would be Jerry burying them six feet under
because they were
both
seeing her.

Faith started walking again, and Grant fell into step
beside her, pondering this new information.

Holy shit. His entire life would be in a shambles if
he lost this job.

But is your job worth more to you than Gracie?

Grant was ashamed to say that was a question he
couldn’t very well answer. His job was his life, and not just because it paid
the bills. He loved working at Dead Heat Ranch. He had found something he was
good at, and maybe he hadn’t reached all of the little goals he’d set for
himself, but he was happy with how he spent his days. He’d been at the ranch
since he was nineteen years old, for chrissakes.

“Thanks for walkin’ me,” Faith said, pulling Grant
from his thoughts. Stopping alongside Faith, he looked around and realized
they’d made it to her cabin.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“So, will you talk to Rusty for me?”

Grant studied Faith for a moment. “Don’t you think
that would be better comin’ from you?”

“No,” she refuted. “Knowin’ him, he’ll go talk to my
dad if I say something.”

Yeah, that wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Please.”

Oh, hell. Grant was never good at telling a woman no,
especially when she said please.

“Fine. When I see him, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you!” Faith exclaimed, throwing her arms around
his neck and hugging him tightly. She pulled away and ran in the house.

And it wasn’t lost on Grant that Faith had just hugged
him because he had agreed to break up with a man for her.

Shit.

As though things weren’t bad enough already.

Friday morning

Where was everyone?

More specifically, where was her father?

Grace was sitting in the tiny kitchen where her father
took his morning coffee as she waited for him to show up. The place was a ghost
town, not a single person having come in or out in the last half hour that
Grace had been nursing her now-cold coffee. At least, no one was traipsing back
and forth in the part that was purposely separated from the rest of the house.

Several years ago, Jerry had insisted that he should
be allowed at least a few minutes to spend with his kids if he wanted to,
without people always interrupting them, which had prompted her father to
section off an area where they could meet without encountering guests.

Ummm … no guests.

But also no dad.

Where was he?

They utilized the small kitchen area mainly so they
could talk in private if necessary, which, yes, Grace was actually interested
in doing.

Grace glanced at her watch, wondering just where he
was. He never slept late. Ever. Hell, most of the time he was the one sitting
at the scarred little table waiting for one of them to come in to chat.

Not today.

Because she still didn’t believe it, Grace grabbed her
cell phone, which she had been mindlessly spinning on the table, and glanced at
the clock on there, too. Nope, her watch wasn’t broken. Her dad was late.

The screen door opened, causing Grace’s head to snap
to the side.

“Mornin’,” Mercy said with an exaggerated yawn.
“Where’s Pops?”

“No idea. I was wonderin’ the same thing.”

Grant walked in a few heartbeats behind Mercy,
glancing between the two of them before making a quick detour to the coffeepot.

“Maybe he had a late night,” Mercy added.

“Who?” Grant inquired.

“My dad,” Grace answered.

Grant looked like a deer caught in the headlights as
he stared back at her, his eyes then sliding over to Mercy.

“What do you know, cowboy?” Mercy asked, clearly
catching on to the same slip-up that Grace had.

“I know that this is the best coffee in the whole damn
world,” Grant said, focusing on the cup in his hand, deliberately not looking
at her or Mercy as he sipped slowly.

“I think you’re full of shit,” Mercy argued. “I’ve
tasted that coffee. Now what do you know?”

“Not a damn thing,” Grant said firmly, still studying
that freaking coffee cup.

Grace knew something was up. Grant wasn’t one to
gossip, but obviously, he knew something they didn’t. And since it had to do
with her dad, she wanted to know just what the hell it was.

Grace rose from her chair and closed the gap between
them, coming to stand directly in front of Grant. So close that he had to move
the coffee cup out of the way. When their eyes met, she could see he was
smiling. Not with his lips, but the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes
said he was fighting it.

“Where’s my dad?” Grace asked, planting her hands on
her hips. “And don’t you dare tell me that you don’t know.”

“I really don’t know,” Grant said resolutely. “I
haven’t seen him this mornin.'”

“Grant Kingsley, don’t you play dumb with me,” Grace
snipped. “What. Do. You. Know?” she asked, punctuating each word with her
finger into his chest.

“Ouch. Shit,” Grant said, laughing as he tried to get
away from her. She had him trapped between her body and the counter, and if he
tried too hard to break past her, he would spill his coffee on her, which she
knew he wasn’t going to do.

“Spill it, cowboy,” Grace demanded, referring to what
he knew and not the coffee.

“You don’t want to know,” Grant said, his eyes
suddenly serious.

“Why? What happened?” Mercy interrupted, moving to
stand next to Grace. “Is my dad okay?”

“He’s fine.” Grant’s blue eyes darted back and forth
between Grace and Mercy. “Better than fine, I’d say.”

This time Mercy was the one to poke Grant with a
finger, right in his belly, making him laugh — or maybe that was a grunt — and
slosh coffee over the rim of his cup and onto his hand. Grace jumped back to
avoid being scalded, but Mercy was right there, up in his face. Well, as up in
his face as she could get considering how freaking short she was.

“Fine. Shit. Back off a minute,” Grant said with a
rough chuckle.

Mercy did, but not far. She took a step back while
Grace took a step forward, both of them still pinning Grant in place, with
their eyes and their bodies. If he really wanted to get away, she knew he could
easily move them out of his way, probably at the same time.

“I kinda … uh… stumbled upon your dad last night.
Totally
by accident,” he explained, a look of intense amusement on his face. “He was…
Well, let’s just say he was otherwise occupied.”

“
What?
” Mercy exclaimed. “Are you sayin’ what I
think you’re sayin’?”

“Depends,” Grant stated. “What do you think I’m sayin’?”

“My dad has a woman?” Mercy asked.

Grace’s head snapped toward her sister. How the hell
had she come up with that? That was the furthest thing from Grace’s mind.

A woman?

Her dad?

Seriously?

Grant just nodded, a clear affirmation that Mercy’s
assumption was correct.

“Oh, my God,” Mercy whispered, turning to look at
Grace. “Pops? With a woman?”

“Like I said, I didn’t stick around, so honestly, I
don’t think he knows I was there. So for chrissakes, don’t fucking say
anything,” Grant bellowed. “Look, I gotta get to work.”

Grant glanced at Grace, their eyes meeting for a long
moment. Grant was the first to break away, his gaze darting over to Mercy and
then back to meet hers before he said, “I’ll stop by your place tonight. If
that’s all right with you.”

Grace knew that Mercy was aware of what was going on
between her, Grant, and Lane. Well, maybe she didn’t know quite how serious
things had been getting, but hell, her nosy-ass sister had played a part in
getting the three of them together in the first place. Even knowing that, Grace
had to admit, it was still a little strange for her sister to be listening in.
Rather than say anything, Grace simply nodded her head, her heart beating fast
and hard in her chest.

“Talk to y’all later,” Grant said, dumping his coffee
in the sink and putting his mug in the dishwasher before sneaking out the door.

When Grace turned around, she found Mercy sitting at
the table, staring off into space. She looked a million miles away.

“You okay?” Grace asked.

“Pops has a woman.”

“That’s the rumor,” Grace confirmed, not sure what to
say about that.

“Should we ask him about her? Who is she? Where did
she come from? How long has he been seein’ her?” As the questions continued to
tumble out of Mercy’s mouth, Mercy jumped to her feet and began to pace. “Do
you think she works here? Does he love her?”

“Slow down,” Grace insisted, placing her hand on
Mercy’s arm, effectively stopping her in her tracks. “Let’s take this one step
at a time. First of all, we don’t know what Grant stumbled upon last night. Who
knows, maybe it was a…” Oh, hell, Grace couldn’t say the words aloud. To think
her father might’ve had a one-night stand didn’t seem appropriate.

Mercy turned to face Grace, her eyes reflecting what
Grace could only assume was fear. Mixed with a hell of a lot of emotion.

Grace placed both hands on Mercy’s arms. “Don’t freak
out. We don’t know anything at this point. Maybe we should talk to him.”

“You think?”

“No, but what other choices do we have?” Grace smiled.

Purely for Mercy’s benefit.

■□■□■□■□

Jerry didn’t move a muscle, his hand poised on the
doorknob.

He was just about to make his way into the kitchen,
where he generally met up with his girls each morning for coffee. At least one
or two of them anyway, depending on how busy they were. He’d been ready to push
open the door when he had heard voices. Two voices, to be exact. From where he
stood, he knew one of them was Mercy. Her voice was unmistakable, not to
mention loud. The other he wasn’t quite sure, but he thought it was Gracie.

It wasn’t the sound of the voices that had brought him
to a halt, though.

Nope. He was pulled up short because of
what
they were saying.

Should we ask him about her? Who is she? Where did she
come from? How long has he been seeing her? Do you think she works here? Does
he love her?

Son of a gun.

They evidently knew about Jan, and by the tone of
Mercy’s voice, she wasn’t too thrilled with the news that he was seeing
someone.

Which was exactly why Jan hadn’t wanted him to share
that little tidbit of information with any of them.

Who had told her? How did they know?

He wasn’t ashamed of his relationship with Jan. Quite
the opposite, in fact. He’d been seeing her for the better part of the last
eight months, and they had even talked about him introducing her to his
daughters. Eight damn months and he’d never brought her to meet his kids. And
that was one of the main reasons they hadn’t been able to take their
relationship further, which he found he definitely wanted to do. And he wasn’t
talking sex because … well, because that part of the relationship was smooth
sailing at this point.

What kind of man was he that he couldn’t even show off
the one woman who’d captured his heart when he hadn’t even realized it’d been
set free in the first place?

Jan was concerned about how the girls were going to
take the news, and according to what he’d just heard, rightfully so. In fact,
Jan seemed more concerned about how the girls were going to react than he was.
Maybe that was because she was a schoolteacher and her empathy where children
were concerned far exceeded his.

Rather than be a pussy about it, Jerry knew he
should’ve just marched right into that kitchen and answered all of Mercy’s
questions directly. It would’ve been so much easier.

Or, okay, maybe
easier
wasn’t the right word.
It would’ve been smarter.

No, maybe that wasn’t the right one, either.

Shit.

He didn’t know.

What he did know was that he was tired of sneaking
around. He was a grown man, and he had the right to see a woman if he wanted
to. Right?

He was about to turn fifty-five, and he’d spent the
last decade and a half alone. Well, mostly alone. There had been a handful of
women over the last sixteen years since he’d lost his dear, sweet Charlotte,
but none of them had been serious. Most of them hadn’t even known who he was
because he had wanted it that way.

Yes, he would have to admit he’d had numerous
one-night stands over the years, although he wasn’t proud of it. But Jan wasn’t
a one-night stand. If he could assure his daughters that no one would ever
replace Charlotte but that he deserved to find happiness again, maybe he could
move forward.

The question was whether or not they would understand.

He knew his girls missed their mother. Hell, he missed
her, too. But he’d forged through, raising his girls and maintaining the ranch
that had been in his family for three generations completely, and painfully,
alone. So didn’t he deserve a little happiness?

And he’d found that with Jan. He’d probably go so far
as to say that he’d never been happier. She was sweet, smart, funny, gorgeous…
Hell, he could go on endlessly about how incredible the woman was.

On top of that, she was… Lord help him, the woman was
a spitfire. She kept him on his toes, made him think, made him ache, made him
want things he hadn’t wanted in so long. She brought out a side of him that
he’d inadvertently buried with Charlotte.

“Don’t freak out. We don’t know anything at this
point. Maybe we should talk to him.” Yep, that was definitely Gracie. And today
she was the voice of reason.

“You think?” Mercy asked.

“No, but what other choices do we have?”

Okay, maybe not complete reason — that was definitely
the “no other choice” way of thinking.

It was the perfect opening, damn it. Now he was
supposed to make his way into the kitchen, announce that he was in love with a
woman and that he was ready to introduce her to his children. He wasn’t even
scared to admit that he was in love, either.

No, that particular emotion was what kept him moving
through every single day, something wonderful to look forward to every time he
had a chance to see Jan.

Last night had been the first night she had accepted
his invitation to come to the ranch. She’d been reluctant every other time, but
he had promised her that she had nothing to worry about. And last night, when
she’d arrived, he’d had every intention of accidentally coming into contact
with one of his girls so he could make the introduction. They hadn’t made it
past his office, though. The fireworks had been lit the second she’d stepped
through his door, and he’d damn near devoured her whole, right there on his
desk.