Grace be a Lady (Love & War in Johnson County Book 1) (25 page)

“And
you say the SGA took this vote in June?”

Thad
nodded at Katie, sitting on the opposite side of his father’s desk, but she had
her head down, furiously writing notes. “Yes,” he said. “I understand there was
only one dissenting vote.”

Delicate
red curls framed her face and caressed her high cheek bones. She was pretty as
ever, but he couldn’t recall why he’d been so enamored with her. And he’d
wanted to marry her?

The
heart was a strange beast. Ironically, the two people who had betrayed him and
shattered his soul were the two people he missed so much it hurt. He couldn’t
believe Pa and Grace had only been gone a month. It felt like forever. Yet, he’d
gotten over Katie in days.

“Did
you miss me at all?”

The
question stilled her hand. She heaved a little sigh and lifted her gaze to him.
He recalled being hypnotized not all that long ago by those strangely amber
eyes. Now, she was just another pretty face. “Thad, I don’t want to hurt your
feelings. And we’ve talked about this.”

He
picked up a pencil and doodled on the note pad in front of him. “I’m just
trying to figure some things out, Katie.”

“Did
you miss
me
?”

For
about a week, he had. Then spring round-up, branding, moving the herd, and ranching
had eased the pain. “Truth is I missed having someone around. I missed making
plans, but . . .”

“You
didn’t miss
me
.” She smirked at him, like he knew that, of course. “We
weren’t meant to be, Thad. You love ranching. I love writing, traveling, and covering
stories.”

“I
reckon,” he muttered, sounding as distracted as he felt. He thought of Grace
every day, felt like every minute. Shoot, she never left his mind. He longed to
go riding with her and show her that butte he wanted to build a home on.
Stepping into Pa’s shoes and heading up the ranch with Nick and Adam’s
blessings hadn’t dulled the pain of her absence. He didn’t understand it.

Katie
closed her notebook and huffed an impatient sigh. “I wanted to finish this
interview before I gave you something, as I thought it might distract you. I
can see now, that was a mistake.” She shrugged, as if resigned to ending the
conversation. “There are several other folks I want to interview anyway.” She
opened the little reticule hanging from her wrist and fished out a yellow piece
of paper. A telegram. “Momma picked this up in town yesterday. It’s a week old.
She said I was to give it to you.”

Thad’s
stomach did a funny kind of wiggle as he reached across the desk to take the
paper from her.

Katie
held onto it as he tugged. “She said I was to tell you, and I quote, ‘you’re
burning daylight.’ ”

Puzzled,
Thad tugged again and Katie released the telegram. Oddly positive the note was
of great import, he unfolded it, praying it was from Grace.

Dear
Raney. Bull has been murdered. I have Hardy. Settling affairs here. Miss you
all so much. Will write soon. Love, Grace

Katie
stood up and cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re burnin’ daylight, cowboy.”

Grace
dropped one last bag just inside the front door, and waved at the carriage
driver to let him know they were nearly ready. She counted six bags, the total
of their belongings. “Hardy, are you ready?” she called up the stairs.

“Coming,
Mommy.”

“Hurry,
please, the cab is waiting.” Slipping into her coat, she glanced around the
silent house. Pieces of furniture covered in sheets haunted every room like
ghosts. The auction was only a few days away now, but she wouldn’t be here for
it. She and Hardy were leaving with nothing but some clothes and a few toys.
Everything was to be sold and the money given to orphanages and half-way
houses. At least some good would come from the man who had damaged so many
lives. Perhaps her plans for Bull’s estate had convinced the police of her
innocence even more than the actual truth. With the investigation closed, she
could move on.

Since
Grace had not received any response from Raney, or anyone else in Wyoming, she
had contacted Susanna Kinsey. The actress seemed genuinely delighted to play
hostess. The arrangement would have to do, at least for a while. Grace would
visit her grandparents soon, perhaps move back to Pennsylvania. And she still hoped
to become a teacher.

Truthfully,
she pined for the wide open spaces and towering mountains of Wyoming. She
missed the soothing sound of lowing cattle and the handsome cowboy on his big
bay mare. She snatched her gloves from her pockets, annoyed with herself.
Leave
that dream on the shelf, Grace.

A
shadow darkened the door and she turned, thinking the driver had come for their
bags.

She
gasped and stepped back.

Thad
stood in the entrance, wearing a thick, sheepskin coat and an impish grin that
highlighted his dimple. He snatched his hat off and hugged it to his chest. “Hello,
Mrs. Hendrick.”

“Thad?”
her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “Thad. What are you
doing here?”

The
grin widened. “You owe me five dollars for a telephone call, Buttercup.”

Grace’s
mouth nearly fell open. She fought the smile that threatened to unleash a flood
of tears as her heart hammered in her breast. “You came all this way for five
dollars?”

Thad
stepped up to her, searched her eyes. “I figured somethin’ out while you were
gone.”

Grace
swallowed, but couldn’t speak. His gaze, warm and hopeful, left her incapable.

He
lifted a hand to her cheek. “You’re the one.” He ran his thumb over her lips. “I
haven’t stopped thinking about you for one second. And knowing what he might be
doing to you nearly tore me apart. I kept asking God for some direction, some
door to open
. . .” His voice sounded
strangled and he stopped for a moment, the muscles in his jaws tightening. “I
love you, Grace. There’s nothin’ holding you here now. Come back to Wyoming
with me
. . .as my bride.”

Grace
barely held back a joyful sob as her knees weakened with sheer exultation. He’d
come for her. He’d come all the way to Chicago. “I didn’t think you wanted me.
I thought you hated me.”

Thad
slid his arms inside her coat and pulled her to him. He kissed her hungrily,
deeply, kissed her until she had no strength in her legs, and she clung to him.
“Ah, Grace, I’m so sorry.” He kissed her lips, her nose, and her forehead. “I
am a special kind of idiot.” He hugged her tighter, as if he wanted to mold to
her every line and curve. Grace let herself get lost in his arms, in the steel
of his chest, in his protection. She felt safe and . . . complete.
Nibbling along her jaw, flirting with her ear lobe, he whispered, “Promise me
something?”

His
hot breath gave her chills. She felt faint with bliss and a hunger for him that
frightened her. At that moment, she would have promised him anything. She
nodded.

He
leaned back so he could look at her, dropping his hands possessively to her
waist. She reached up to touch the place in his cheek where the dimple lived,
but the intensity in his gaze, the set of his jaw, stayed her hand. He raised
one side of his mouth. “Promise me you’ll be never be anything but a lady.”

She
raised her right hand. “I promise.”

“Mommy?”
Hardy’s puzzled tone separated Thad and Grace with a jolt. Smiling, she rushed
to her son as he ambled cautiously down the stairs.

“Hardy,
there’s someone here I want you to meet.” She took his hand and led him over to
Thad. “Thad Walker, this is my son Hardy. Hardy, Thad here is a real cowboy. He
and his family own the biggest ranch in Wyoming.”

The
boy’s eyes bugged. Thad squatted down to the four-year-old’s level. “Hardy, it
sure is nice to meet you.” The two shook hands.

“Do
you have a bunkhouse?” the child asked, awestruck.

Thad
chuckled. “I sure do. A pretty big one.”

“Can
I see it sometime?”

Thad’s
grin spread. He flicked his gaze quickly at Grace, and rapped his knuckles on Hardy’s
chest. “See it? Why, I might even let you stay in it sometime.”

Hardy’s
eyes saucered again, even bigger this time.

Laughing,
Thad rose to his feet and tried for a serious tone. “Mrs. Hendrick, I’d like to
ask again. Is there any possibility you and this fine young man would accompany
me back to Wyoming? Hardy, I’m always looking to hire more cowboys.”

Perhaps
a little overwhelmed, the boy scooted closer to Grace and took her hand. “I don’t
know how to be a cowboy.”

“Well,
if you’d like to learn, your ma here and me, we could teach you.”

His
mouth forming a little
O
, Hardy stared up at Grace. “You know how to be
a cowboy?”

“Thad
taught me everything I know.”

“And
she’s not half-bad.” Thad punched Grace in the arm. That ridiculous grin made
her want to kiss him and slap him at the same time. “What do you say, Mrs.
Hendrick?” He gave her a roguish wink. “I need more ranch hands. ’Specially now
that we’re mergin’ with the Diamond R.”

She
bit her lip, looked down at her son. “What do you say, Hardy? Would you like to
see Wyoming? Maybe learn to cowboy?”

Hardy
nodded so enthusiastically his head looked like it was on a rickety swivel.
Grace shoved her hand out to Thad. “Well, Mr. Walker . . . will
you take us on? The
both
of us?”

Thad
bent down and picked up a bag on each side of Grace, then stood, drawing almost
nose-to-nose with her. He pondered her lips, looked into her eyes. “I promised—
swore,
in fact—that I wouldn’t cheat Raney out of a wedding. You have no idea how
that promise grieves me now.”

Grace
touched his arm, regretting so much that she couldn’t kiss him like she wanted
to with Hardy present. But she grinned, and knew he understood all the things
she
couldn’t
say. “Then take us home, Mr. Walker . . . We’re
burnin’ daylight.”

Dear
Reader, if you liked Book 1 in my
Love & War in Johnson County
series, may I ask you to leave me a review on Amazon? I would be sincerely
grateful. Amazon is a big machine, but its marketing engine doesn’t kick in for
small authors until readers speak out in favor of a book. If I’ve entertained
you, if I’ve made you smile, if I’ve blessed you with
Grace be a Lady
,
would you say a few kind words? Here’s the link, and, thank you, thank you,
thank you for the sacrifice of your time. I know it is one of your most
precious treasures!
http://www.amazon.com/Grace-Lady-Love-Johnson-County-ebook/dp/B00WDFHNL4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1432003380&sr=1-1&keywords=grace+be+a+lady

In
the same way Jesus used parables, I try, through fiction, to illustrate a
Biblical principle. Hate is a destroyer of souls. If you were to look into your
enemy’s eyes as he passed from this life, would you really wish Hell on him?
Eternal separation from our savior? I pray you’ll ponder all the ways Christ
was tortured and then murdered for our sins. Yet, he forgave. I pray you’ll
consider following his example. And then the truth of His love with set you
free.