So why him?
To torment him, he guessed. The only one who could control that was him. He would take control now before he got too far in. He’d keep her at a distance. He’d remember how it felt to have his heart trampled. Memories resurfaced, and not the ones he wanted. Of course he didn’t remember the night when he’d rounded the corner of his trailer and saw her with Lincoln. Instead, he remembered how it had felt to hold her in his arms.
He rubbed his hands down his cheeks and shook his head. Heartache, pain, disillusionment—he drew all the memories in and let them simmer as he looked at the woman asleep on the couch, her face bruised by the fist of another man.
He waited until he heard Oregon show up, then he made his way into the section of the building where her store was located. Oregon had a talent for making things. She made clothes, hand-painted Christmas ornaments and jewelry. He didn’t know much about her art, but he knew enough to be impressed.
When he walked through the door, she turned from the shelf she was straightening and smiled at him. She was a tiny thing with dark hair and big gray eyes. And her daughter, Lilly, was the spitting image of Duke.
“I heard I have a visitor.” She moved some things around, then settled her serious gaze on him. “You okay?”
“I’m good. She isn’t. Do you mind if she stays here for a while?”
“Of course not.” Oregon pointed to the coffeepot on the shelf behind the counter. “Need a cup?”
“No, I thought I’d go help Jake.”
She narrowed her eyes to study him. “Really?”
“What?”
“You’ve avoided horses like most people avoid snakes.”
He shrugged and didn’t offer explanations. He hadn’t offered an explanation to anyone about anything. He’d lived his life that way, because from the time he’d been a kid everyone had told him to put on his big-boy jeans and get over it. He’d gotten over his mom walking out on them. He’d gotten over his dad drinking his life away. And whatever he was feeling inside, he kept it to himself. For the most part.
As Duke had told him a long time ago, they all had stuff they had to deal with.
“He asked me to help him out today. I know Duke is at the restaurant. I don’t want to leave Jake shorthanded.”
She dropped her gaze to his leg the way Duke had. “Should you be riding?”
“Yep. So can you let her know where I’ve gone?”
“Yes, I’ll let her know.”
Brody started to walk away but stopped. “If a guy with straw-colored hair and a big grin shows up here asking for her, tell him you don’t know who he’s talking about.”
Worry clouded her features. “I will. Brody, are you sure you should...”
“Yeah, I should.”
He walked away before she could guess he wasn’t as sure as he acted.
* * *
Lincoln chased her through the dark, his face a mask of anger and cruelty. Grace ran but her legs were tired and heavy, and it was hard to breathe. Then suddenly they were in a clinic, and Lincoln told her in quiet, reassuring tones that it was the right choice. She shook her head, knowing he was wrong and that she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t take the life growing inside her. It was her baby. Hers to love. Hers to protect.
Grace woke up with a start. She wasn’t in a clinic. She was—she didn’t know where she was. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered being picked up from Brody’s truck, his arms around her. It was the first time she’d felt safe in months.
It was true. A person always wanted what they knew they couldn’t have. She happened to be the poster child for that. She hadn’t wanted Brody when she’d dated him because she’d thought it was all moving too fast, getting too serious too soon. She’d wanted freedom and excitement before she had to go home and get back to reality.
In the past few months her reality had shifted, changed to the point she no longer knew what her future held or how to get back to the person she was or the person she’d always thought she’d be.
She pulled the blanket close as she studied the room. It was a tiny apartment, not much bigger than the bedroom she’d had growing up. The sofa she’d slept on and an overstuffed chair were the only furnishings. The small kitchen area was just a counter with a narrow stove, single sink and a dorm-size fridge. Stairs behind the sofa led to a loft.
The inside door opened and a woman with dark hair peeked in, saw that she was awake and entered the room with a smile. She held up a glass coffeepot. “You’re awake. Need coffee?”
Grace shook her head, still holding the blanket tight. “No, thank you. I’m trying to cut back.”
Because she was having a baby. Her heart clenched and she wanted to cry all over again. She drew in a deep breath and managed to smile so the woman in front of her wouldn’t think she was falling apart.
The woman sat on the arm of the chair and set the coffeepot down on a magazine on the table. She studied Grace, her smile kind. “You’ll make it through this.”
Grace wanted to ask if this stranger could promise that. Instead, she managed a smile. “I hope so.”
“You will. And you’ll learn a lot about yourself. By the way, I’m Oregon Jeffries. I’m engaged to Brody’s brother Duke.”
“Grace Thomas. But you probably already know that.”
“Brody did tell me your name. But he didn’t tell me anything else. He keeps things to himself.”
Grace nodded. Yes, that was the Brody she knew. She thought about how she used to try to get him to share gossip about people they met. But he never would. Instead, he’d told her everyone had a story and most didn’t need to be repeated. Brody had his anger, his past, but he also had faith. He had convictions. The whole package that was Brody Martin had scared her a little. Oregon cleared her throat, bringing Grace back to the present.
“Sorry, I got lost in thought.” Grace said. “Is it going to cause you problems, having me here? I wouldn’t want to put you in danger.”
“Of course you’re not a problem. As for danger, Duke is right across the street.”
“Thank you.” Grace looked around the tiny room. She felt safe here.
“Is there anything at all I can get you?”
Grace thought about all of the possible answers to that question. If only this woman, Oregon, could get her what she really needed. She’d start with redoing the past year. That would put her back on track. She’d go back to nursing school. She’d ignore Lincoln’s advances. She’d make better choices.
She would remember the person she’d been raised to be. She’d done her best to run from the gilded cage she’d been in all her life. She’d thought that cage confining. Now she realized
