Eight Second Angel: The Ballad of Lily Grace (Lonesome Point, Texas Book 7) (4 page)

The thought made her cheeks heat beneath her hands.

She hadn’t meant to flirt with him, only to convince him she was sane enough to be trusted not to hurl herself off another building anytime soon. When she’d wrapped her fingers around his thumb, she’d been thinking more about how weirdly small her new hands were, not the message her touch might be sending.

Still, she couldn’t deny that there was something between them, a simmering energy that wasn’t purely friendly. He was a stunning man, with a handsome face, soulful hazel eyes, and a powerful body. But it was his kindness that made her want to take him in her arms, kiss his forehead, and promise to help him find a way to banish all the lonely and sad.

But that sort of help wasn’t what he needed. A new lover might take his pain away for a little while, but it wasn’t a long-term solution, especially when the lover in question didn’t exist.

Grace was dead, Lily was just visiting, and both Lily’s spirit and Grace’s body would be gone soon. Whether Lily succeeded in her mission or failed, this body was living and breathing on borrowed time. When Lily went back to the land in-between, the flesh and bone that had been Grace Heller would be no more. Waking up to find his lover dead in his bed wasn’t what a man freshly back from the brink of self-destruction needed.

Obviously. The only question is why your head went to sex in the first place.

Flustered by the thought, Lily’s hands dropped from her face. She reached for the purse slung across her body, determined to finish her business and get back to Canyon.

It didn’t matter if something was simmering between them. She wouldn’t allow a simmer to become a boil. She would concentrate on finding out why Canyon believed he was undeserving of the kindness he was so ready to show others and then convince him to grant his own soul some much-needed mercy.

And when that was done, she would be able to turn to her own mission of mercy.

She pawed through the contents of Grace’s purse, looking for clues about her new identity. She’d been able to bluff her way through her first interaction with Canyon, but if he hadn’t mentioned the times she’d served him at the diner, she would have floundered. She needed more information and to be sure she didn’t contradict anything she might have told a regular customer.

Moving closer to the trash can near the door, she tossed out receipts for gasoline and gum and a sadder receipt for a bottle of cheap whiskey and five lotto scratch cards. Pity for Grace filled her chest, but she pushed it away. There was nothing she could do for the girl now. The best thing she could do was concentrate on her own lost soul.

A few minutes later, she had discovered a set of keys, two pairs of sunglasses, a wallet containing a driver’s license, debit card, grocery store loyalty card, and fifty dollars in ones—her last batch of tips, Lily was guessing—and a battered paperback copy of Sylvia Plath’s
The Bell Jar
.

Lily shook her head, wishing someone would put a sticker on that book warning fragile young women not to read it unless they were currently in therapy, and zipped up the purse with a huff. Nothing in there to help her, not even a cell phone she could use to search Grace’s text messages for clues. She was tempted to toss everything but the wallet into the trash can, but she supposed she might need sunglasses.

Back outside, Canyon was screwing the gas cap back on the tank as she hurried across the parking lot to the pumps. Behind his big red truck, a brunette in a black miniskirt and tank top was taking her time punching in her credit card information, casting glances Canyon’s way as she propped one foot up on the fuel island, displaying a curvy tanned leg.

But as Lily stopped beside Canyon it was clear he was oblivious to the attention, his gaze turned inward, watching whatever sad memories flickered behind his eyes when he was alone.

Once again, Lily was overcome by the urge to take his face in her hands, kiss his stubble-covered cheek and swear to him that she was going to make everything better. He reminded her so much of John in the months after she’d passed, when her spirit had lingered in the air near their home, watching the man she loved become a sad, faded shadow of the person he’d been. It had broken her heart to see him hurting so badly and know there was nothing she could do.

Canyon wasn’t John or hers to kiss or make promises to, but she could do something for him. She would find a way to make him open his eyes and see the possibilities in the world around him.

Considering she had no time to waste, she might as well start now.

“You’ve got an admirer,” she whispered, leaning against the truck as he hung up the nozzle and reached for his receipt.

“Oh yeah?” he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Who’s that?”

She nodded her head to the left, motioning toward the woman bending over a little too far to pump her gas. “She was checking you out. If looks could burn off clothes, you’d be naked right now.”

Canyon’s lips curved on one side, but he didn’t look toward the leggy brunette. “Maybe she recognized me from the rodeo. My picture was on some of the signs near the fairgrounds.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Canyon, I’m sure that’s it. It’s not the fact that you’re gorgeous and fill the hell out of a pair of blue jeans.”

He stepped closer, studying her through narrowed eyes. “This is a friendly trip. Right, Grace?”

“Absolutely,” she said, ignoring the simmering energy bubbling between them. “And as your friend, I feel obligated to make you aware of it when pretty women are checking you out. You can do the same if you see any hot cowboys looking my way.”

“If I see any cowboys looking your way, I’ll tell them to stay the hell away from you,” he said in a humorless tone. “You should find yourself a nice doctor or lawyer or something.”

“You sound like a Willie Nelson song,” she said, crossing her arms at her chest. “And why would I want a doctor or lawyer over a man who works hard with his hands and has a way with animals? Are you insinuating I’m the type of woman who’s after a man’s money, not his heart?”

He blinked and a frown creased his brow. “No. Of course not.”

“Well that’s what it sounded like,” she said, wondering if this had something to do with why Canyon was shutting out life and love. “But I’m not that type of girl and I know a lot of other women aren’t, either. We want a man who will love us, laugh with us, be sweet to our babies, and pick us up when we fall. And for a man like that, we’re willing to do the same.”

She tilted her head, studying his face, wishing she could read his expressions more clearly. But Canyon was nothing if not a master of the poker face. Only his eyes gave him away and right now they were cast down to the gas-stained pavement at their feet.

“Not having a lot of money isn’t a reason to shut love out of your life,” she added softly. “I hope you know that.”

He looked up, a bemused smile curving his lips. “I’ve got plenty of money, Grace. Money’s not the problem.”

“Then what is the problem?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t pushing too hard.

She didn’t want to outwear her welcome on the trip before they even got started, but she didn’t like the way he’d talked about next weekend, with that final note in his voice. It was already almost midnight on Saturday. If he planned to kill himself in a week’s time, she didn’t have the luxury of pussyfooting around.

“There is no problem,” he lied. “I told you, I’m just not looking for a relationship right now.”

“Why?” she asked though she knew why. A relationship would give him something to live for, a reason to fight his way out of the shadows smothering his heart.

“Do you ever get tired of asking questions?” He reached for the driver’s side door, wrenching it open with a sharp jerk and tossing his wallet into the cup holders between the seats.

“No,” she said, sensing it was time to back off and give him some space. “I’m like a five-year-old. Obnoxiously curious at all times.”

But instead of the joke making him laugh, it made him wince. If she weren’t watching so closely, she would have missed it. But watching was the reason she was here and now she had her first clue. Why would mention of a five-year-old cause him pain?

Maybe Canyon had a child in his life, one he didn’t get to see very much while he was on the road. Maybe he had a failed marriage, too. She knew love wasn’t easy for a rodeo cowboy. It must be hard to maintain a relationship long distance when one person was at home and the other always on the move, sleeping in lonely hotel rooms, surrounded by strangers.

“Well, hopefully, you can fall asleep in the car like a five-year-old, too,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t know I was going to have a copilot when I planned this trip. I don’t mind driving all night, but I know most people require sleep.”

“Not me,” she said wryly as she circled around to the passenger side of the truck. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

But she knew there was no sleep in death. There was peace, but no sleep, no sweet, dark oblivion.

On the other side she was always awake, always pulled in two directions, torn between remaining in the hazy forests of the land beyond, where she could still catch glimpses of the human world, and moving on to something more final. The in-between wasn’t the final rest, it was a pit stop, a place to linger while your soul got used to the idea of letting go.

Lily hadn’t been sure she would ever be ready to let go—not while her boys were still walking the earth—but maybe now that she would have the chance to say goodbye, things would be different.

She glanced over at Canyon’s profile as he accelerated up the on-ramp and onto the highway. Even if she hadn’t been sent to save him, she would want to. She was in his debt and it was one she meant to repay, even if he fought her every step of the way.

CHAPTER FOUR

Canyon

They stopped at a Wal-Mart in the middle of the night for Grace to buy a few pairs of shorts, tee shirts, a swimsuit, and toiletries for the trip and reached the Big Bend park entrance just after dawn. They killed time walking around the lookout nearby, watching the river wind through the canyons below until the shop opened at six.

The Camper’s Outfitter Store was small, but it had groceries, drinks to fill up the cooler, and a small corner with camping supplies for sale. Grace’s sleeping bag and foam pillow cost easily three times what they would have if he’d remembered to grab them at Wal-Mart, but it was just money, and like Canyon had told Grace, he had plenty of it.

He’d won twenty-three titles in the past four years—including two at the national level—and had put every spare dime not needed for travel costs into savings. After the job with Drake and his drug-running connection next weekend, he would be able to pay off Reilly’s farm with enough left over for her to hire as much staff as she needed to help run it.

In the years since their divorce, Reilly had remarried and had a baby girl. But her husband was a construction worker, not a farmer, and their little girl had a heart problem. Insurance didn’t cover all the costs for the surgeries and Reilly spent so much time at the hospital she could barely keep the farm afloat, let alone profitable. She was in a hard spot she never would have been in if he hadn’t wrecked all of their lives. If he hadn’t been such a dumb, selfish, rush-and-glory chasing son of a bitch, they would still be married, Reilly would have a husband who knew how to run a farm, and Aaron would still be alive.

And maybe that baby girl would be his, not another man’s. He’d always wanted more children. It was Reilly who had wanted to wait.

Probably because she could sense that it had been a mistake to have one baby with him, let alone two.

“Thanks so much for this,” Grace said, tossing her new sleeping bag in the back of the truck. “I could have paid for it. I’m pretty sure I have enough left in my account.”

“Save your money,” he said, with a smile. “You might need it to tide you over while you’re looking for a new job.”

She nodded, but she didn’t seem overly concerned about her lost job. When she wasn’t peppering him with personal questions, Grace was pretty laid back, especially for a girl who had nearly jumped to her death off a seven-story building. And she seemed so much more confident than she had when she’d waited on him at the diner. Back then, her pretty smile had been fragile around the edges, contributing to the breakable vibe he’d gotten from her from the start.

It was like she’d undergone a personality transplant sometime between climbing up on that ledge and coming back down from it. Though he supposed he could be wrong. He hadn’t known her well before, but after six hours in the car he knew her better than he did half his rodeo buddies. It helped that she rarely stopped talking and didn’t hesitate to share her opinions. She kept him on his toes and had him laughing more in one night than he had in months.

Now, as they pulled through the crowded campground to their site and started unloading supplies, she was anything but breakable. She set up the cooking area and barbecue supplies with calm assurance, helped stake the tent, and made five trips back and forth from the truck, piling the firewood he’d brought near their fire pit.

When she was done, she sat on top of their picnic table with her feet on the seat and tipped her head back, soaking in the sun with an unpracticed sensuality that took his breath away.