Page 33 of His Saving Grace

Simon grinned. “Yeah, and then you pussied out and moved to the city, first chance you got.”

Mason smirked at the smart-ass comment, but refused to respond. Sure, Simon was joking, but he was done justifying his choices. That ship had sailed a long time ago, and he wasn’t dragging it back to shore to start this all over again. He’d done what he needed to do and refused to feel bad about it. Didn’t need to defend his choices.

He clapped Simon on the shoulder and turned toward the truck. His limp was still pretty fucking prominent, and he hoped no one was watching too closely. He climbed into the driver’s seat and sighed when the pressure on his thigh eased.

Simon was already over the fence and headed toward Owen, Sam, and the herd. Meaning he hadn’t seen Mason hobble back to the truck. Good.

Mason fired up the truck and pulled a U-turn, heading back to the house. The idea of a cool shower was far too tempting to keep him out here any longer. Even though he’d been driving around the property for most of the day, since observing was all anyone saw him fit to do, the dirt and grit coating his skin felt baked on.

The truck bounced over the uneven terrain, and his mind wandered back to the enigma that was Grace. She was always on his mind, but because she was avoiding him, he’d been forced to watch her from afar, and what he had seen intrigued him. That he was borderline stalking her on the property was beside the point. He was making sure she wasn’t a threat to his family.

You keep telling yourself that, and yet you know it isn’t true. She fascinates you, for more reasons than just whatever she’s hiding.

He shoved those unwelcome thoughts aside and focused on what he’d learned about her over the last few weeks.

She liked her routines. The swimming every morning, for instance. Up with the sun to get her laps in. He still watched from a distance, enjoying the peace observing her brought. And yeah, he liked how she looked in a bathing suit. Sue him.

She worked hard, going above and beyond whatever his mother asked. Not that she was ever tasked with anything difficult. His mother kept it to the basics; weeding and watering the vegetable garden, taking care of her prized rosebushes, light housework and joining her on her weekly grocery shopping trips.

He got the feeling it frustrated Grace, but she never complained. Just threw herself into every task and didn’t quit until it was complete. She was tenacious, thorough. He liked that about her.

He turned the last corner, and the house and outbuildings came into view. The sight made his chest ache, piercing and sweet. Every damn time. But at least it was starting to feel a little more like home. That was something.

He geared down, his mind shifting back to Grace. She was also skittish. Any unexpected noise sent her jumping out of her skin. She often glanced over her shoulder, as if afraid someone might sneak up on her. And she rarely left the property, trips with his mother notwithstanding.

Which made her decision to come with Simon the night he got drunk intriguing. What had made her break her seemingly self-imposed rule? And what was she so afraid of?

He’d tried to talk to his mother about the situation, asked what she knew about Grace, but all she’d said was, Grace needed help, so she’d helped her. He’d pressed and his mother finally admitted she hadn’t requested any identification from Grace, not even a social security number. Which meant she had no real idea who Grace was and was paying her under the table.

Neither of those things thrilled him.

When he hadn’t let the subject drop, his mother had explained, in excruciating detail, how she’d managed to survive her entire life without his opinion and if she’d wanted said opinion, she would have asked for it. And then, she’d gone on to chronicle, in even greater detail, everything she accomplished in her life without his assistance. His ears still buzzed.

He parked the truck in the garage and climbed out. His leg protested, but it seemed sitting had helped. The pain had lessened to a dull ache. He massaged the muscle for a few moments and then made his way outside.

The sun was almost down, and he stopped in the doorway, blinking until his eyes adjusted after the dimness of the garage. He looked at the house, dreading the longish walk, when he saw Grace slip into the hay barn. Curious, he changed course and headed in that direction.

The hay barn was old school, made of slatted wood planks with a peaked roof. When he was a kid, it had been painted that old-fashioned red with white trim. Sometime over the last fifteen years, it had been stripped and stained. It looked nice, but he missed the old look.

He stopped just outside the wide door and listened. Grace was talking, but it was too low for him to make out any words. Slipping inside, he stayed against the wall, scanning the interior.

She was in the closest corner, crouched beside a loose bunch of hay. Her was fixated by whatever she was doing, meaning she hadn’t spotted him yet. Which was why she hadn’t freaked out and run away.

He moved toward her, trying to keep quiet. He didn’t want to spook her. This was his chance to finally get her alone so they could talk. He got closer and spotted what had her so enamored.

A cat had given birth to a litter of kittens. His mother always kept a couple of cats around to help with the rodent populations, although she always made sure the half-wild beasts were spayed or neutered. Apparently, this one got missed.

The five kittens were little, but their eyes were open, so they were about two weeks old. The mama cat was stretched out in the straw, keeping an eye on both Grace and her babies. Clearly, Grace wasn’t a complete stranger, or Mama cat would be more on edge.

Three of the kittens were nursing, the other two moving around, testing out their legs and the surroundings. Grace stroked the slick fur on the mother cat’s side with one hand, while nudging one of the wanderers back to safety with the other.

“How’s the good mama, today?” She skimmed her hand up to the cat’s head and scratched behind her ear. The cat tilted her head, closed her eyes and started to purr.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Grace scooped up one the kittens currently attempting to make the great escape and cupped it in her hands, lifting it so it faced her. “Where do you think you’re going, huh? The world out there’s a scary place. You’d better stay with your mama.”

The kitten made a squeaking little meow, like it was answering her. Grace laughed and bumped her nose against the kitten’s. The kitten squirmed, so Grace placed it back in the straw with its brothers and sisters.

The sound of her merriment did something to him, made his insides twist in an unexpected and unfamiliar way. He couldn’t define what it was, and honestly, didn’t want to try right now. Whatever it was, he was done ignoring it.