have a horse to pay off, remember?” She sat down next to Grace and studied her long and hard. “So you’re the trouble...”
“Lilly.” Brody cut her off as he chuckled. “This is Grace.”
Grace held out her hand. “Better known as trouble.”
Lilly smirked. “Mom said you’re staying in the apartment.”
“Yes, I am.”
Lilly leaned back in her chair and Brody reached over, putting the chair back on four legs. “Down, killer.”
“I have to get back to work. Mom and Dad will be here soon.” She stood, her attention focused on Grace. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you earlier. I came here right after school.”
“I’m sure we’ll have a chance to get to know each other,” Grace offered.
“Great,” Brody murmured. “Maybe we should get our food to go.”
“Why would we do that? This looks as if it might be entertaining,” Grace teased. It was easy to do when she knew how much Brody liked his privacy.
“We should leave before the whole family shows up,” he said, leaning in close. “You’re laughing at me now, Gracie, but you wait till you’re face-to-face with Jake, Duke and their women. And then there’s this bunch.”
He inclined his head, taking in the group at the table.
“I do like to see you squirm.”
He leaned back in his chair. “They’ll eat you alive.”
As if on cue, one of the older men turned his attention on Brody and Grace. He grinned as he settled his fishing hat on his head, the stiff bill shading his face but not hiding the teasing glint in his dark eyes.
“Brody, I’m just a wondering when you’re going to hang up your running shoes.”
“Running isn’t good for your knees, Brody.” Grace understood the double meaning but she jumped in anyway. Anything to see his face turn red.
“I haven’t been running, Grace.”
The other gentleman laughed at that. “Brody, as far as I can tell, you’ve been running for a year. Looks to me as if it finally caught up with you.”
Brody shot her an I-told-you-so look. She’d jumped in, thinking Brody would be the target. But it was suddenly clear that in Martin’s Crossing, no one got a break. For the next hour she took her share of teasing. When Brody’s brothers and their wives showed up, they made sure Brody took his fair share of ribbing. It felt good to be a part of that crowd, and to spend time laughing and not worrying.
When Brody walked her back to the apartment an hour later, Grace was exhausted but still amused. She’d learned a lot about Brody Martin in their time with his family and with old-timers who’d known him all his life.
“You really rode a bull through the school?” she asked as she unlocked the door.
Brody lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug and reached to push the door open. He flipped on the lights inside and stepped back for her to enter.
“A friend dared me.”
“Do you always take dares?” For reasons unknown even to her, Grace’s voice softened. She looked up and saw Brody watching her, his blue eyes intent.
She wanted to touch him. She wanted to brush her hands over the dark shadows on his cheeks. She wanted to lean in and inhale his scent.
Instead, she took a step back, knowing that they didn’t have a future. She’d broken his heart once. And Brody didn’t trust easily. She had a baby to think about. This was definitely not the time for distractions.
“Brody, thank you. For letting me stay here and for not being angry.”
“Oh, I’m still angry, Grace. That doesn’t mean I don’t care.” He kissed her cheek and walked away.
She drew in a deep breath as she locked the door behind him, then leaned against it. A tear slid down her cheek.
She brushed it away because crying did no good. She’d gotten herself into this mess and she’d survive. Somehow.
Brody sat in the exam room long after the doctor had handed him a sheet of instructions and left. The diagnosis hadn’t been a surprise, but he’d been given a royally good chewing out for putting off this visit for so long. He guessed he’d just hoped it would go away. He’d guessed wrong. Rheumatoid arthritis didn’t go away. Neither would the cartilage damage in his knee. But at least surgery could clean that up. The upside, if there was one, is that it would probably respond to treatment and even go into remission. Men, he’d learned, had less severe cases of RA than women.
At least he knew the prognosis.
He couldn’t sit in this room for the rest of the day, avoiding his life. He pulled on his boots, shoved his hat down on his head and left the exam room behind.
He headed for the waiting room and Grace. He’d stopped at Duke’s for coffee that morning and she’d been there. When she’d found out he was heading to Austin, she’d asked for a ride. Of course he hadn’t been able to tell her no.
He was going to have to practice if she planned on staying in Martin’s Crossing any length of time. He mumbled, “No, Grace,” to himself, then shook his head. He was really losing it.
“No, Grace, I don’t need someone to hold my hand,” he grumbled. “No, Grace. I don’t think I’ll give you a second chance,” he whispered to himself.
“Are you talking to me?”
She was heading toward him, coming out a door near the exit. No, Grace. The words evaporated as she stepped close, a sweet expression on her face, lingering dark brown eyes. She could turn a man into a fool with that look.
“Nope,” he said. He’d been talking to himself. It made him half-mad that he couldn’t hold on to his anger when she was around.
His gaze went to the baby bump her loose shirt didn’t hide. Her hand moved to that bump and her smile faltered. He hadn’t meant for that to happen.
“You okay?” Her voice was soft in the quiet room, where a dozen people waited.
“I guess so.” He hooked his arm through hers and they headed for the elevator.
“You’re lying,” she said when the elevator doors slid closed.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
He shook his head and pushed the lobby button. “Nope. Where do you need to go?”
“Brody, we’re at a rheumatologist.”
Yeah, he knew she would put two and two together. That didn’t mean he was ready to talk about it.
“Yeah, I guess we are. Where do you need to go?”
Silence for a blessed moment.
“A department store, please. I need a few things that I can’t get in Martin’s Crossing.”
For some reason that lightened his mood. He doubted she’d planned it that way, but he’d take any rope he could grab hold of.
“What? There are things you can’t get in Martin’s Crossing?” He smiled as he teased her. “I thought the feed store had everything.”
“If everything includes grain, rubber boots, lead ropes and work jeans.”
“Sounds like everything a person needs.”
“Yes, everything a person needs. But what I need the most is my friend,” she said,