Heart of Grace (Return to Grace Trilogy #1) (13 page)

“It’s not my choice, Jack. It was hers.”
Jack’s eyes gleamed with something close to pride. “You’re
fighting an invisible bronc, my friend. Both of you are. All that
work to keep it from throwing you, but you’re already down.
Can’t even see the clear path in front of you.”
Jack patted Cole’s shoulder. “You wanna make it right,
then make it right.” And then he walked away.
Michael came back a moment later and noticed Cole’s
empty shot glasses. “Shots?” he asked.
Smiling, Cole signaled the waitress for another round.
Placing his hand on Michael’s back in a companionable and
alcohol-induced manner, he lifted his shot when it was given
to him, and held it out for a toast. Michael followed suit.
“Clear path,” Cole scoffed. “Hardly.” Then he tapped his
glass against Michael’s. “To the beautiful women we can’t
have.”
“To annoying know-it-all females with big pretty blue
eyes.”
“And to the ones with deep green eyes that look even
prettier with tears in them.”
Just as the men were about to toss back their shots, Michael
set his down without drinking and squinted at Cole. “You
made my sister cry?”
Cole laughed, thoroughly amused by the serious expression
on Michael’s face. He looked as though he could go a few
rounds.
“Nah, I didn’t make her cry,” Cole said. “Wasn’t me. I
dried those tears.”
Michael tried to hold it back, but it was too much and
before he could think to stop it, he was laughing. “Are we done
toasting yet?” he asked through his snickers.
“I dunno. Lost track.” Cole raised his glass and tossed back
the drink unceremoniously.
Michael did the same and then gestured with his glass.
“Hey, let’s go rustle us up some touristy ladies. See if we can’t
set ‘em straight ‘bout what this town stands for.”
“Okay.” Cole nodded several times in succession,
wrapping his arm around Michael’s shoulders, as much for
support as it was a sign of friendship. “But they gotta be ugly.
Can’t be like your sis.”
“Ugly.” Michael considered as he surveyed the early
evening crowd. “No ugly chicks, but I see a coupla nice
blondes over there.”
Cole narrowed his eyes and followed the direction of
Michael’s stare. Two women sat in a corner booth. “Good
choice, bro. Angie’s blonde, but not like that. She’s got red in
her hair. Looks nice when the sun shines on it.”
They were already walking over to the women, but Cole’s
mind was stuck on Angie; his heart swimming in guilt. He
made a point of pushing her and the voice of reason out of his
thoughts, but as he slid onto the bench seat and asked the
pretty blonde if he could buy her a drink, Cole could only think
that her eyes were not Angie’s eyes. And her smile wasn’t
Angie’s smile.
But he was already so close to the man he once was, he
figured he might as well go all the way.
****
Angela picked up her rolled yoga mat and slipped on her
flip flops, her muscles still humming. Sophie said goodbye to
some of the other class participants and then made her way to
Angela.
“Good work,” she said. “I think you outdid me on the
backbends. How about we head to The Water Hole?”
“Hmmm. You mean we’ll get to watch drunken good ol’
boys playing pool all night? Oh boy!”
“Come on,” Sophie pleaded, “I don’t want to go home
yet.”
“All right, fine.”
After showering and changing in the locker room, the
women set their gym bags in their cars and headed for The
Water Hole. Although the sun had set, there was no relief from
the heat and Angela was glad she had opted for cargo capris
and a simple spaghetti-strapped tank. Without wanting to
bother with her hair, she had gathered it into a low, messy bun.
Her phone buzzed as they walked. Angela dug it out of her
purse.
“Is it Mr. Wonderful?”
“You mean Jeffrey?” Angela asked. “He’s hardly Mr.
Wonderful. But yes, it’s from him.”
“And?”
“And what? He’s helping me find an investor for the
arena.” Angela shrugged and opened the text.
I read the proposal. I’ll get back to you in a few days.

She tossed her phone back into her purse and forced a
smile. At least it wasn’t a “no,” but their time was running out
and they were short on advertising dollars for the pro event.

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea? Asking him to help
you?”
“I use my resources.” Angela opened the door to The
Water Hole and motioned for Sophie to go in ahead of her.
It was the usual early evening mix of locals and tourists,
buried in shadows and drowning in their beers and whiskeys.
A ballgame played on several televisions.
“Ah,” Derek greeted them from behind the bar, “if it isn’t
my Chardonnay girls.”
“Just a diet soda for me tonight,” Angela said. “Thanks,
Derek.”
“Same goes.” Sophie lowered into a seat at a center table,
but she bounced up quickly and stepped in front of Angela,
spinning her around. “On second thought, cancel those drink
orders,” she said to Derek, and then to Angela, “I’m not in the
mood for drunken good ol’ boys. Let’s just go to my house for
a girl’s night in. Or we can try that new bistro on Maple.”
Angela laughed, surprised by Sophie’s urgency. “We’re
already here.” She stepped around Sophie and instantly wished
she hadn’t. Without her friend to block her, Angela had full
view of two blondes draping themselves over Cole and her
brother in a corner booth.
Cole was laughing as his date pulled him close and kissed
him on the cheek. She whispered something into his ear. He
turned toward her and kissed her on the lips.
Angela grabbed her purse, reminding herself she had no
right to be angry. Sophie yanked on her arm.
Cole looked up and saw them. The color drained out of his
face. She thought he might get up, but he stayed where he was,
inching away from his date. He stopped her when she tried to
kiss him again.
“Ice cream,” Sophie decided. “We need ice cream. STAT.
Let’s get outof here.”
****
Angela hesitated outside Cole’s den the next morning.
They had scheduled this meeting over a week ago to review the
potential sponsorships for next month’s pro rodeo event.
She had spent much of the night unsuccessfully trying to
keep herself from envisioning Cole with that blonde. Her
memories of what she had seen and her imagination of what
she had not seen made her short on self-control and restraint.
She had no desire to test herself, but this confrontation needed
to happen eventually. It would be a lot like killing a big hairy
spider: the only way to get over the fear was to get rid of it
once and for all. And that required getting close to it.
Sliding the door open, she made an effort to soften her
facial muscles, telling herself it was downright silly to care if he
slept with some woman last night. He had his own life, and she
had hers. The few stolen kisses that she and Cole had shared
did not bind either of them to anything. She had already told
him she didn’t want him, and she had meant it.
She walked into the den, but he was nowhere in sight.
Despite her efforts to stay detached, the nausea she had battled
throughout the night returned when it occurred to her that he
might not have come home last night. Perhaps he was still with
her, snuggled up in her hotel room.
“Cole!” She walked out of the room and yelled up the
stairs, although she had already convinced herself he was not
home. “Get down here, we’ve got work to do.”
Nadine peaked over the upstairs balcony and then came
shuffling down the stairs. “Shhhh, Michael’s still asleep,” she
said in a hushed voice. “Cole’s not here, dear.”
Angela’s stomach fell to her toes.
“He went out to the pond at dawn, said to tell you he’d
meet with you tomorrow about the sponsorships.” Nadine
hurried down the rest of the stairs, her round face tight with
worry. “He told me to not tell you where he was. But I’m
worried about him. What happened last night? He came home
in a fit of a mood.”
Angela just shook her head and hurried through the house
and out the back door.
The pond was set back into the woods, fed by mountain
streams. A cheerful stone path marked the way through the
trees, leading to a dock that Cole and his dad had built. Trees
arched over the water, reaching for the sun in the clearing. The
old rope they had used to fling themselves into the water still
hung from one of the branches.
Cole sat on the edge of dock, his jeans rolled up and his
feet in the water. Hearing her approach, he glanced back, and
then quickly returned to his vigil.
“I shoulda known Nadine would tell you where I was.”
Angela slipped off her shoes and sat beside him, dipping
her feet into the cool water. They sat in silence, listening to the
trickle of the creek and the rustle of the breeze. The morning
sun peeked through the trees, bringing light to the lingering
overnight shadows and illuminating bits of floating dust.
“I remember when you and I hung out at this pond
together the first time,” Cole said quietly after a few moments.
“It was that night my dad invited your family over for dinner.
What a disaster. I was a jerk and our dad’s fought. Almost came
to blows.”
“And my mom told us to go outside.” Angela said,
remembering. “That was right before my mom got sick. We
must have been fourteen, maybe fifteen.”
She turned to him, his gaze still fixed on some far away
spot. She remembered him sitting there just like that almost
eighteen years ago. He hadn’t wanted to be there with her, but
Angela was a teenager with a crush, and she had been thrilled
to be with him alone, even if it was forced on him. She had
jumped into the water with all her clothes on, swinging from
the rope to show off.
He turned to her now, his eyes that of a grown man, drawn
and tired.
“Did you sleep with that girl last night?”
“No.” Cole winced. “But I might’ve if I hadn’t seen you.”
She swallowed hard and looked down at his hand. It rested
on a book at his side, the leather cover worn, the pages curled.
He picked up the book and set it on his lap. “This was my
mom’s,” he said. “A prayer book. It meant a lot to her. I
remember her writing in it when I was little, and reading it to
me at night before bed. She taught me everything I know about
faith and trust.”
He flipped through the book. Angela inhaled the smell of
decaying paper.
“I’m not the boy or the man I once was. Last night I came
close to it, but I came to my senses because of you.”
A family of ducks waddled into the water. They quacked
and splashed toward the opposite shore.
Angela watched them for a long while.
“There’s something you should know,” Cole said, breaking
the silence, his gaze also fixed on the ducks. “Something I’m
not proud of. I met this girl in Tulsa a few years back. Jenna. I
was competing at nationals and she was one of the flag girls.”
Cole let out a sharp, self-deprecating laugh. “I was such a cad,
she didn’t stand a chance. But, somehow, I fell in love with her.
Or I thought I did. She moved to Grace and she hated it here,
hated the work I did at the ranch and the arena, the way I’d
come home dirty at night, if I was home at all. At first she went
with me on the road, but she started to stay back more and
more, and then she’d take off to Missoula whenever I was
away.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. The ducks completed
their journey and disappeared into the tall grass.
“We had nothing to keep us together,” he continued. “It
got old after a while, but I wanted it to work. I think she did
too. It just got to be too much. Or too little, depending on how
you look at it. I cheated on her a lot, and I found out later that
she had been seeing some guy in Missoula; that’s why she went
there so often. Toward the end all we did was fight.”
He rested a hand over Angela’s. Her fingers stiffened, but
then she turned her wrist and linked her fingers with his.
“I wasn’t good to her.” Cole said. “I didn’t know how to
be. I thought I was in love, but I used her. And I hurt her.”
“She hurt you, too.”
He shook his head adamantly. “I drove her to do the things
she did. It ended when she caught me with another woman.
She came down to Denver to surprise me. I’d called her the
day before and told I wanted it to work, that I was sorry for
everything and that I missed what we were in the beginning.
She cried and told me she was sorry, too. We were going to go
away together when I got home, just the two of us, somewhere
up in the mountains. I was going to propose.”
“I take it that never happened?”
“No. I took first place in Denver, went out drinking to
celebrate and ended up taking a woman back to my hotel.
Jenna showed up at the hotel to surprise me, she saw the other
woman and that was the end of it. By the time I got back home
she was gone.”
Angela swallowed, watching the hard line of his jaw. “You
think you’re that man again, don’t you? You’re worried that
what almost happened last night was too close to what you’ve
done before.”
“Yeah.” He unthreaded his fingers from hers. “You know,
I’ve heard of drug addicts being grateful for overdosing.
Sometimes what we need is something to shake us up, make
us see ourselves for what we are. After Jenna left I was a mess,
and then one night I found this dusty journal on a bookshelf.
I knew my mom wouldn’t want me to live my life that way, so
I vowed to live it right.
“Sometimes I forget what it was like to be the man I was,
but last night I was him again. I hated it, Angie. I hate what it
did to you. I know you and I aren’t together, but you never
came right out and said you don’t want me. And I’m not
convinced you don’t, not after seeing that look on your face
last night. We have something. Am I wrong about that?”
Her stomach flipped over. Fear rose up, choked her. She
couldn’t find the words.
“You don’t have to say a thing, sweetheart, just forgive me.
Please.” He smiled, the wrinkles bunching up at the corners of
his eyes. “If not for fifteen years ago, then at least for last
night.”
Angela’s gaze flitted back to the pond, her breath trapped
in her throat. A fish splashed to the surface, nipping at bugs.
“I’m leaving soon. I have to, Cole. I can’t stay here.”
“I know, darlin’.”
The sun had risen higher, filling the clearing with light. The
summer heat began to encroach on the cool hull of the pond
and it all closed in on her, threatening to suffocate the air out
of her lungs. She trembled when he pulled her close, his hand
splayed across her back. She took in the scent of his soap, felt
his heart beating rapidly.
“We all have our stories,” she whispered
Cole murmured her name, his lips against her temple. And
she knew that he already knew the thoughts scrambling
through her mind, even before she’d voiced them.
“I still don’t remember what my father did to me,” she
admitted, needing to speak it out. “But I remember
remembering. It happened that night, after you saw the
bruises.”
A flock of birds fluttered out of nearby tree and flew over
the pond, and then through the clearing. Angela wished she
had wings so she could take flight and join them. She pulled
away from Cole. “You and I do have something, but there’s a
lot more we don’t have. You want me to say it? Fine. I don’t
want you.”
“I don’tbelieve you.”
“You don’t have to believe me. It changes nothing.” She
walked away before he could respond.
****
The next Sunday morning
Angela
stood outside
the
Church of Grace and looked up at the turrets covered in ivy.
Organ music poured out of the open doors as people walked
into the sanctuary, some of them glancing in Angela’s
direction, their mouths agape. She looked down and walked
inside.
She saw Cole right away, standing by the front pew with
Mrs. Markey. He glanced up and caught Angela’s gaze across
the room.
Angela looked away quickly and slipped into the back pew.
Moments later, Mitzi Wilmington and Joanne Smith filed
into the pew two rows in front of Angela. Mitzi looked behind
and nudged her friend. Joanne looked back, turned to Mitzi
and mouthed “Oh my God…Angie Donnelly!”
They leaned close together and whispered a conversation
Angela
could not hear in its
entirely,
although snippets
managed to rise above the organ music and the din of the
crowd. She sunk further in her seat and caught phrases like
“white trash,” “doesn’t belong here,” and “she needs to go
back to the other side of the tracks.” She hadn’t wanted to
come to church this morning in the first place, and now she
wished she hadn’t let Sophie convince her.
She glanced at the doors behind her and slid to the edge of
the pew. Sophie sat down, blocking Angela’s retreat.
“Hi Angie,” Sophie said more loudly than necessary, “glad
you made it. It is so good to see you. Oh look! It’s Mitzi and
Joanne…you remember them from school, right?”
Mitzi and Joanne turned, their smiles tight and pained.
“Hi girls,” Sophie said easily, “you remember Angie.”
Mitzi lifted a corner of her lip and scoffed. “Hard to
forget.”
“Did you come back to handle your daddy’s estate?”
Joanne asked, her voice sugary sweet. “It must be tough trying
to figure out what to do with all those empty cans of spam and
bottles of whiskey he left behind.”
Mitzi tsked. “Poor thing.”
“Isn’t it just the saddest?” Sophie mocked. “Oh, by the way
Mitzi, how’s life at the café? I hear you pulled a cool thirty
bucks in tips last night. Way to go.”
Sophie made a show of clapping her hands lightly. Angela
took hold of her friend’s hands and lowered them, shaking her
head. Mitzi and Joanne both huffed and turned forward.
“They’re still the same.” Sophie pulled a hymnal from the
back of the pew in front of her. “Don’t worry about them.
Small-mindedness still runs rampant in Grace.”
The organ’s volume increased and the rest of the
congregation took their seats. Cole took his seat in the front
pew, looking back at Angela briefly before turning his attention
to his hymnal.
Angela opened her own book of hymns. Mitzi glanced
back at them again, but a glare from Sophie had her quickly
turning to face the front of the church.
At the end of the sermon the congregation filtered out of
the sanctuary amidst the swish of silk and easy Sunday chatter.
Angela
stayed in her seat. The pastor
had spoken of
forgiveness and the words were still fermenting in her head.