Page 6 of His Saving Grace

“Yup.”

“What’s her name?”

“Tank.”

Jake cocked his head, his forehead scrunching. “Huh?”

“I didn’t name her. She already had the name when I got her.”

“Okay.” Jake shrugged and stood. Tank rolled to her feet and leaned against Jake’s leg. Jake rested his butt against the wooded porch railing, pushing his Stetson back off his forehead with a finger. He crossed his feet at the ankle. Mason couldn’t help but notice the slight bow to his legs. One of the casualties of spending most of his life on a horse.

Jake’s expression turned serious. “You look much better than the last time I saw you.”

Mason nodded, his throat too dry for words. Jake, Simon, Declan, and his sister-in-law Isabella had come to the Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany to see him after the attack. It had been ugly, painful, devastating. A mess of broken bones, third-degree burns, and skin grafts. Which had then led to months of difficult, and often excruciating, rehab.

Eloise placed her hand on his knee and gave a little squeeze. He wrapped his fingers around hers, holding tightly. He knew she felt guilty about not coming to see him in the hospital right after the attack, but he understood her reasons. She’d been dealing with her own huge pile of shit back here. The day after the attack, his dad, who had secretly been sick for a while, had died. He’d never blamed her for not coming right away.

“You back for good now?” Jake reached down and scratched Tank’s head. His gaze held Mason’s, pinning him to the porch swing.

Mason shrugged. As he told his mother, his trip here hadn’t been planned. Once he was healed enough, he’d been transported back to Fort Lee. There, he’d done his rehab and waited. Thanks to his new, and according to the doctors, most likely permanent, limp, he was no longer fit for active duty. Sitting behind a desk was right up there with anesthetic free dental work, or maybe a prostate exam by Captain Hook. He took the discharge.

So, he packed a bag, got into his truck and drove. Six days later, he and Tank crossed the California border. He’d sworn once that he’d never come back here, would never set foot in the State again. He’d been a foolish, naïve kid. One who let his stubborn pride dictate far too much of his life.

The rumble of another vehicle heading down the driveway caught his attention, and he forced his regrets back in the box that usually held them. He’d deal with them later. Or never. Whichever. Didn’t really matter.

A black pickup raced up to the house, coming to a screeching halt next to Blue. It kicked up a cloud of dust, the gravel of the driveway dried out in the summer sun.

Eloise stood, another radiant smile on her face. She winked at Jake and then leaned down and placed a kiss on Mason’s forehead. She ran her fingers along his jaw and then reluctantly stepped away from him.

That, right there, that was his fault. She was afraid he’d leave again and not come back. He hated that he made her feel that way. And there was nothing he could do to ease her mind.

He wasn’t sure if he was staying or not. Although, it wasn’t like he had a whole lot of choices out there in the real world. He would take a while, think about what he wanted his future to look like. Maybe decide how he wanted to get there.

Mason stood and walked to the top of the steps. Tank followed, planting her butt on the porch next to him. He braced his shoulder against the pillar, crossing his arms over his chest. He squinted at the bright afternoon sunlight and silently cursed the fact he had to wear pants in this heat.

“Come on, Tank.” Eloise patted her thigh. Not one to pass up such a blatant invitation, Tank stood and trotted over to Eloise’s side. “Let’s go get you a nice bowl of water. Jake, come and help me.”

Jake nodded and pushed away from the railing. He clapped Mason on the shoulder. It was like being hit with a sledgehammer. Jake was no longer the little kid from his memories, but a man, full grown. He needed to remember that. Jake followed Eloise and the dog into the house.

Mason turned his attention back to the driveway. The passenger door of the newly arrived pickup flew open, followed by the driver’s side door. Two men emerged, the driver wearing jeans and a long-sleeved work shirt, the passenger dressed in a sheriff’s uniform.

Declan, the sheriff, closed the truck door and grinned, heading for the porch. Simon, the driver, a beat behind his twin, shut his door and made his way around the truck. Mason smiled, a bit of the pressing weight lifting off his chest. The ache behind his breastbone was still there, but somehow it didn’t hurt quite so much right now.

Declan took the stairs two at a time, and then he was standing in front of Mason. Simon climbed the stairs right behind him and came to stand next to Declan.

Mason shifted away from the railing to face them. Without a word, and as if as one, the twins reached over and pulled Mason into a group bear hug. He’d never admit it, but it felt good. And had been far too long. He’d missed his brothers more than he could ever say. More than he ever imagined he would.

“All right, enough.” He pulled out of their grasp and gave them each a little shove.

“See, I told you he was here.” Declan punched Simon in the arm.

Simon frowned and punched Declan back. Declan retaliated with an even harder punch. Mason knew where this was headed and stepped between them, preventing them from diving at one another. He smiled and threw an arm across each of their shoulders. No matter how much time had passed, some things never changed.

“Gentleman.” Mason ushered them in the direction of the front door. “Why don’t we settle this after we have something to eat?”

Grace had never felt so self-conscious in her life. Four of the five Callahan siblings were in the kitchen, staring at her.

Okay, so they weren’t all staring at her. Simon and Declan had their heads together, having a heated discussion about whether the Dodgers or the Angels were the better baseball team. Jake was leaning over his mother’s shoulder, sneaking bits and pieces of food. He played one-for-me-one-for-you with Tank, who sat at his feet. Eloise would pretend to be outraged and smack Jake’s hand every now and again, but Grace could tell she loved every minute.