Restoration (16 page)

“Next week at the latest. Grace, this will all turn out fine but it might be a rough few months.”

“Wh . . . What about criminal charges?”

“There’s no way for them to bring you up on charges right now. They’re just going to want our presence gone for a while and I can’t pay you if you’re not working.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get Valerie on it.”

She sat in silence, staring out the window, shocked. Her life seemed to be constantly in flux. Just when she was really starting something good, moving past all the pain of the last year-and-a-half, her world quite literally came crashing down.

Tears swelled in her eyes, threatening to spill at the slightest movement. She took a deep breath and wiped the moisture away as she picked up her phone to deliver the news to Drew.

The line rang twice before he answered and the sound of his soft voice in her ear brought on a fresh wave of sadness.

“Hello, love. Miss me already?”

“Drew . . . there’s been an accident.”

“What? Are you hurt? Where are you?”

“I’m fine, it’s the site. Part of the roof collapsed. Mark Ringstad died.” She worked to control the emotion in her voice.

“Good lord. I went to primary school with him.”

“I’ve got to go back to Virginia. There’s going to be an investigation and my boss wants me home so he’s not paying for time I’m not working.”

Drew cleared his throat. “Right, when?”

“Val booked tickets for Friday morning.” Her lower lip trembled as she spoke and her voice began to shake.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, love.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Grace? It’ll be all right.”

She nodded her head and whispered, “I hope so.”

Chapter 17

Grace packed her last bag and set it by the front door with a heavy heart. Her flight was in nineteen hours and every time she thought about the situation, panic rose in her chest. Drew was on his way back through the slow moving, snarled commuter traffic. He’d kept in contact with her throughout the week and planned on returning as soon as possible, but storms kept rolling in all over the country.

The sun rose high in the sky, rapidly melting the snow, causing it to run in rivulets down the street. She was tired of waiting for what she knew would be one of the most difficult days of her life here in Braley.

The streets and sidewalks were too slushy with snow for a run, so she pulled on her boots and decided to go for one last walk around the town she’d grown to love. As she looked around the quaint village, guilt washed over her. This beautiful little place didn’t deserve to feel such loss. She’d wracked her brain for anything that could’ve been done differently and the only solution she’d come up with was that there shouldn’t have been anyone on that roof.

There were a few cars on the road while she walked her usual route and headed for the footpath. People still waved at her when they passed, smiled and said hello, but she felt their hesitance keenly.

An approaching car slowed and beeped its horn. Eyeing the car suspiciously, she looked around to see who the driver was honking at. She stifled a sob as Drew threw open the door and sprinted toward her, leaving the vehicle still running in the street. Her heart was in her throat as she saw his tortured face.

“Drew . . .” She started to speak, but his lips on hers quieted the rest of the words.

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, deepening the kiss as his fingers tangled in her thick hair. The kiss was fueled by fear and she held on for dear life. She could feel his hands trembling as she clutched his shoulders and pushed her tongue past his lips. He groaned and opened for her, the passion boiling over right there in the middle of the street. Awareness built slowly. The sounds of the town invaded her mind and she pulled away from him gently.

“We should get inside.”

He nodded and wrapped his arm around her as they turned to walk back to her cottage.

“Where’s your car?” she asked, looking back to the street where it had been.

“Dad took the wheel when I got out.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t see him.” She blushed at the thought of David witnessing their passionate exchange.

“You mean you’re embarrassed that we were snogging in the middle of town?”

“A little. Aren’t you?”

“Nope,” he said with a smile on his face. He squeezed her tighter as they walked up to her door.

They shared lunch together in her kitchen, while Valerie finished her last-minute packing. Grace was thankful Drew avoided the subject of the roof collapse. Her stomach was in knots as the day turned to night and her hours left with him spilled through her fingers like sand.

They lay together in her bed, her head resting on his chest, his arms around her waist, pulling her as close as possible. The sound of his rhythmic breathing, deep and soothing, calmed her and she edged toward sleep herself.

“I love you, Drew,” she whispered, her cheek against the dark hair on his chest.

He tensed and his breathing stuttered, but regulated back to the deep restful rhythm. Her heart beat against her ribcage as panic that she was caught took hold. She let out a sigh and snuggled closer to the warmth of his body and the steady thump of his heart. Somehow, saying the words out loud made her feel better, like she was finally being honest with him about something even if he didn’t hear her.

The alarm woke them both at four-thirty the next morning. Her nerves were rattled and caused her to be a shaky and cranky mess. Drew quietly dressed and helped her and Valerie make sure they had everything they needed, his face grim and lips tight. By the time the cab pulled up to their door, her heart felt like it was in a vise. Drew wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly, his chin on the top of her head.

“Don’t go,” he whispered. “Please.”

She took a shuddering breath, trying to contain her emotions. “I have to. I’ve got no choice.”

“I can’t bear it. Not knowing when I’ll see you again.”

She looked up at him, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’ve got to go. Please don’t make this harder.”

Drew sniffed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fine, right. Go on, then. Let me know you’ve arrived safely.”

She kissed him, deeply, trying to tell him how she loved him without using the words. Her lips trembled on his as she fought back the urge to cry.

Before she let herself break down, she pulled away and dashed to the waiting cab. She cried silently as they pulled away and she watched Drew stand at her doorway until the road took them out of sight.

The family home was
quiet when Grace let herself in. Thankfully, her parents were away for the weekend and she was alone. It was completely dark outside and bitterly cold, but still early evening. Her body ached with the heaviness of fatigue only associated with the stress of travel.

She switched on the light in the living room, or great room as her mother so grandly called it. She inhaled deeply and took in the familiar scents of her childhood home. Her mother was addicted to wax melts and the house always smelled delicious.

She walked slowly around the house she hadn’t seen for six months. Everything was exactly the same, down to the throw placed across one arm of the leather couch, just so. Her mother was a neat-freak and spent more time straightening things during parties than actually socializing. She reached for a picture frame on the mantle to move it slightly just to annoy her mom and paused as she caught sight of John’s face.

The photo was from her parents’ last anniversary celebration. They’d all gone out for dinner at a fancy steakhouse and taken a group photo before dinner. John’s face was beaming, smiling brightly with his arm around her.

Her stomach clenched as she looked around at all the pictures in the room. John was in almost all of them. He’d been such an integral part of their family, there was no way to erase him.

Looking at John’s face made her think of Drew and what she’d left behind. She sank into the chair next to the fireplace and put her head in her hands. Her phone buzzed against her hip and she reached to pull it out. Drew’s name flashed on her screen, alerting her that she had a new message.

All right, love?

She took a breath and laughed a little hysterically.

Alive. Been better.

She pressed
send
and waited, half wanting him to stop texting.

Get some rest. Glad you arrived safely.

XO - Grace

She spent much of her evening looking through old photos from her childhood. John was even present in school pictures, and she eventually found a scrapbook her mom had made from all the years she and John dated. There were pictures from their weekend trips to the Carolinas, their trip to Washington D.C. during spring when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and a plethora of family dinner pictures. She realized, as she looked through her past, how much she’d been avoiding her memories of John.

She spent the next day unpacking and adjusting to the time change, throwing herself a pity party. She caught up on some of her favorite TV shows and binged on ice cream and cookie dough until she felt sick. She only had this one day to be alone in her misery. Her parents were due home the next morning and she knew her mom would read her like a book and the inquisition would start.

Sunday morning greeted her like a fist to the face. The sound of her parents pulling their car into the garage was the first thing she was conscious of. She groaned and rolled over in her bed, stuffing the pillow on her face and trying to go back to sleep.

“Gracie? Gracie, are you up there?” her mother called.

Grace lay perfectly still, trying to decide if it was worth it to try and ignore her.

“Grace Annabelle McConnell . . . you’d better answer me!”

She whipped the covers off and got up, throwing on a robe and slippers. “Mom, I’m here. I’m coming.”

She trudged down the stairs loudly, her night of self-pity had taken its toll on her social graces.

“Goodness, what happened to you?” her mother exclaimed when she caught sight of her.

“I was sleeping.”

“You look like a homeless person.” She sniffed. “You smell like one, too.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom. It’s good to see you, too,” Grace said, the sarcasm thick in her voice. “Is there coffee?”

“I just put some on, Gracie Belle.” Her dad patted her on the shoulder.

She walked to the coffee maker and pulled a mug from the cupboard. Without waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, she pulled the carafe out and held her mug under the filter, collecting the coffee fresh from the drip.

“Grace, I wish you wouldn’t do that. It leaves a mess on the hot plate,” her mother said, a slight note of exasperation in her voice.

“Sorry.”

She grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat at the kitchen table with her parents.

“How was your trip?” she asked between bites.

“Lovely. Your Aunt Martha’s doing well and was asking about you. Your cousin Breanne is pregnant! She broke the news at dinner yesterday. It’s about time. She’s already past thirty-five.”

“Wow . . . good for her,” Grace said half-heartedly, hearing the unspoken statement on her own age.

“So, big meeting with Bidwell tomorrow?” her dad asked.

Her stomach dropped in anticipation. “Yep.”

“You ready?”

“I guess so.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. This is just temporary, honey.”

“Dad, someone died on my crew. I was responsible for him.”

Her dad shook his head. “No, the foreman was responsible. He’s the one who makes the calls and staffs the jobs.”

She was embarrassed to feel tears prick the corners of her eyes. “I hope you’re right. Even still, I can’t help but feel responsible. He had a wife and three little kids.”

He reached his hand out and placed it over hers. “I know. You probably always will. I can’t help you with that.”

She took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Nodding her head, she finished her cereal and stood. “Well, I’d better check my messages and get my data in order for tomorrow. Thanks for letting me stay here on such short notice.”

“Honey, you never have to ask. That’s why you’ve still got a key.” Her mom sent a smile her way.

“I’m going to go for a run on the beach in a bit. Can I take one of your cars?”

Her dad nodded. “Take the truck.”

He pulled the keys out of his pocket and threw them to her.

“Thanks.”

The old truck sputtered to life, died, then came back twice before Grace was able to pull it out of the driveway. She hadn’t driven it in at least ten years and the feel of its huge steering wheel and overly springy seats made her nostalgic.

She had so many memories of riding to the beach for picnics in this old monster, smelling of bug spray and sunscreen. She would usually fall asleep on the way home, her energy zapped by hours in the sun and sand, lulled by the rumbling of the truck’s diesel engine. Her dad had taught her to drive in this beast. The clutch was touchy and there was no power steering, but because she’d learned in it, she could back around a corner and parallel park in any car thrown at her.

She drove the ten minutes to her favorite running spot, along the beach where she and John used to race. Parking was easy this time of year. Only the most dedicated runners would be seen on the beach in the middle of winter. As she tightened her shoelaces, she let her mind drift back to one of her favorite memories of John.

They’d been running on the beach in early summer and the tide was beginning to rush in on them. Instead of running away from the water, John had taken her hand and pulled her into the surf, soaking her entirely. Her initial reaction was one of frustrated anger at being soaking wet with no change of clothes. As they stood waist deep in the blue-green beauty of the ocean, she’d looked into his eyes, laughing in the sunlight, and found herself without a care for anything but him.

The water was gray this morning, reflecting the overcast clouds full of potential snow. She ran slowly at first, building a solid rhythm and steadying her breathing. The sandy beach was long and seemed never-ending. As her feet sank into the sand, she tried to start her usual process of working things out and thinking through her problems, but she couldn’t get herself to focus. All she could think about was Drew. She wanted to see him come around the bend on the beach, or feel him brush against her as he passed by.

Her legs were tired by the time she finished and was walking back to the truck. She wasn’t used to running in the sand anymore and the changes in her gait made the run more challenging.

Her mother’s silhouette darkened the window of the living room as she pulled the truck into the driveway. She sighed inwardly and opened the door, bracing herself for the interrogation.