Aging with Gracie (19 page)

“Remember?” he reminded her. “I told you that there was a house above the clearing?”

“I do,” she nodded, “But the road to this place is nowhere near Mrs. Elderman’s.”

“We had to put my driveway on the other side of the mountain,” he told her. “To the east, once you get past the B&B, it’s almost impossible to navigate. The easiest route for a driveway was on the other side.”

“Wow!” Grace said. “It must have been almost impossible to put your driveway in.”

“Not the easiest thing I’ve ever coordinated,” he agreed, “But the road crews around here are used to the conditions. It’s almost become second nature for them.”

“I suppose that all of us learn to adapt, especially when there is such a reward to be gained from our efforts.” She leaned back against the tailgate of the truck.

“I think that you’re exactly right.” He grabbed her hand. “I also think that I’m going to starve if we don’t get inside for dinner.”

Hand in hand, they walked toward the steps. When they arrived at the foot of the stairway, Grace eyed the steep expanse with trepidation.

“Need a piggy-back ride?” Jack offered as his laughing blue gaze settled on Grace’s ankle.

“I think I can manage,” Grace headed up the steps with ease. “I’ve been fine for weeks now, Jack.”

“But it’s so fun to take care of you,” he joked as he jogged up the steps behind her. “You’re such a perfect damsel in distress.”

“Is that what I am to you?” She stopped and turned toward him with her hands on her hips. “A damsel in distress?”

“Only when I’m lucky,” he grinned. Then, without allowing her to argue, he took her hand and tugged her toward the terrace.

Grace tried to take in the exterior of the house. There was so much rock and cedar and she didn’t know where to begin. The terrace was a work of art in itself with its huge rock columns and the smooth expanse of flagstone covering the space.

“I’d wager that this is probably one of the most perfect spots on earth,” she said more to herself than Jack.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I was just thinking that it must be wonderful to sit out here and look over the mountains. With the right weather, it would be just about perfect.” She walked toward the edge of the terrace and rested her hands on the iron railing.

“Only if you had the perfect person with you,” Jack told her. He walked up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You would have to have the right person to make it a truly perfect day.”

Grace turned around and lifted her gaze to his.

“And who─ “

“Well, there you are,” a female voice interrupted whatever Grace had intended to ask. “I was wondering when the two of you were going to get here.”

Jack let out a breath and turned around.

“Grandma Alice.” Jack took Grace’s hand and together, they walked toward the open door. “Sorry to have kept you waiting. There was a situation at Mansfield Park.”

“You’re grandfather called me,” she told him. “Come here and give me a hug.”

Jack moved to do her bidding, but she moved past him and took Grace in her arms.

“Poor child,” she whispered. “I’m Alice Ellis, by the way. You can call me Grandma Alice.” She gave Grace’s cheek a pat. “I saw you a great deal with your grandparents when you were a young child, but I haven’t had a chance to see you since Jackson moved into Mansfield Park.”

“Yes, ma’am, I know.” Grace smiled. “I think Sally handled Mr. Ellis’ admission. I’ve only seen you from a distance.”

“Well, you children come on in.” She waved them into the house. “I’ve got fried chicken and biscuits warming in the oven.”

Grace glanced over to Jack, and he gave her a guilty grin.

“I thought you were going to cook.” She raised her brows. “And I’m almost certain I remember you saying something about ‘fending for yourself.’”

“About that,” he began.

“Don’t get me started, Jack Ellis.” She raised her hand with a grin, effectively cutting off any excuse he might make. “I’m sure that I would much rather eat your grandmother’s dinner instead of your cooking anyway.”

“I’m wounded, Grace.” Jack put his hand over his heart. “I can’t believe...”

“Stop your gabbing, Jack, and bring that girl to the table.”

Reproached by not only one, but both of the women in the room, Jack moved to do his grandmother’s bidding. He led Grace toward an immaculately set table located in a nook to the side of the kitchen. There was a huge bay window there that Grace was sure would offer a beautiful view during the daytime.

Jack’s grandmother placed a platter of steaming chicken on the table. Within minutes, there were mashed potatoes, gravy, and a plate of the most scrumptious-looking biscuits Grace had ever seen. Her mouth watered, and she had to clasp her hands together to keep from snatching one.

“Let’s bless this food so you can get started,” Grandma Alice smiled at Grace as if she could ascertain her thoughts. “Jack?”

“
Thank you Lord for this day. It’s been a hard one, but we can rest assured that you will be there to carry each of us during times like this. Thank you for this food and for the hands that prepared it with love. Thank you for family and for friends and for all of the plans you have for us. Amen
.”

“Amen! Now ya’ll get started,” the older woman told them.

“Are you not eating?” Grace asked.

“I’ve already eaten,” she said. “I get the heartburn if I eat too late.”

“Well, thank you for saving this for us,” Grace told her as she filled her plate with a piece of chicken and, to the detriment of her waistline, two biscuits.

“I hope you enjoy,” Grandma Alice said. “There’s nothing better than a good home-cooked meal eaten with family and friends.”

“I have to agree. By the way, I love your home,” she said to both of them. She’d learned from the residents that older people were very territorial. Since Jack’s grandmother was currently living here, she wanted to include her in the comment.

“Oh, I love it, too,” Grandma Alice said. “We’ll be moving to town, though, as soon as Jackson completes his rehab.” She placed a couple of slices of pecan pie next to each of their plates. “This house is wonderful, but it is Jack’s through and through.”

Grace looked around and decided that the place did appear to be the perfect setting for Jack. The space that she could see was a wide-open one, and the rooms on that floor seemed to flow together with ease. There were huge chandeliers made from deer antlers hanging from the cathedral ceilings, and the walls were wide-planked cedar covered with an assortment of beautiful paintings. The floor in the kitchen was a flagstone tile, similar to that on the terrace, but the other rooms boasted beautiful oak floors warmed up with dense, wool area rugs. It was amazing.

Like Jack
, Grace thought.

Grandma Alice interrupted Grace’s thoughts with a hurried wave of her free hand. “My knickknacks would be out of place in this manly place.”

“She means her junk,” Jack chimed in between bites of mashed potatoes.

His grandmother gave his hand a swat so hard that he barely held onto his fork.

Jack caught Grace’s attention and winked. It seemed that he enjoyed tormenting his grandmother as much as he enjoyed tormenting Grace herself.

“They’re collectibles, Jack.” She turned to Grace with a guilty smile. “I have a weakness for music boxes.”

“And teapots, and little porcelain birds, and...”

“I think she gets the picture, Jackson,” the older woman’s voice turned stern. “We don’t need your opinion of something you know absolutely nothing about. This is ladies’ talk.”

Grace held in a giggle. This was great! She had just learned who to turn to when Jack needed to be taken down a few notches. The tiny little woman scurrying about the room had the trick down pat.

“How did the residents take it about Emma?” Grandma Alice asked over her shoulder as she wiped down the stove.

“Some better than others,” Grace told her. “Over the past few weeks, a few of the women had formed a little group, and they had tried to include her. They would have tea, take walks, that kind of thing.”

“It was such a shame when Emma came down with the Old Timer’s.”

Grace smiled at the term she’d heard time and time again since moving to Manhattan.

“She had such a gift,” the older woman shook her head.

“What do you mean?” Grace asked.

“Why, she was such a gifted painter. I thought you knew,” she explained as she walked toward the table with a pitcher of sweet tea. “I’ve seen several of her paintings at Mansfield Park. She even taught that pretty little Lily Bridgewater. You would have thought the two were kin the way they got along.”

Grace wracked her mind for a moment, and then things started to become clear. Memories surfaced. Emma’s fascination with the paintings Grace had purchased at the local gallery, her insistence that Grace not touch them, even her detailed explanations of painting that Grace had barely heeded.

“I can’t believe that no one told me,” Grace said. “And all along...”

“Honey, you can’t know everything that goes on around that place of yours,” Grandma Alice said as she refilled their tea glasses. “Well, children, I’m going to have to run.” She whipped off the apron and ran a hand through her short gray curls. “I promised your grandfather I would check on him tonight.”

Jack stood, but his grandmother waved him back to his seat.

“You stay right there with that pretty girl of yours,” she told him.

Grace could feel her face reddening, both at the compliment and the knowledge that Jack’s grandmother was making a late visit to see her husband. She stared at her biscuits and gravy until she could meet the woman’s gaze again. She looked up just as Alice was heading toward what Grace assumed was the stairway to the garage.

“Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Grandma Alice,” Grace called. “I’ve enjoyed renewing our acquaintance.”

“Oh, honey,” the woman smiled, “I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing much more of you.”

“I’ll meet you at the residence to follow you home,” Jack told her as she wrapped a vibrant blue scarf around her neck. “We’ll head over there once we finish up here.”

“Don’t rush, dear,” she told him, “Courting takes time, you know.” And with that, she was gone.

“Courting?” Grace asked. “Is that what it’s called now?”

“She’s got some fancy ideas,” he chuckled.

“I’ll say,” Grace grinned. “She’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she?”

“She’s a lot like another woman I know.” Jack put his hands behind his head and leaned back into the upholstered bench seat to watch Grace with steady eyes.

Grace leaned her head to the side and pursed her lips. “And who would that be?” she smiled.

“Don’t be coy, Gracie.”

“As if I would even know how to do that.” Grace took a sip of tea to hide her nervousness.

“I’m pretty sure you’re starting to figure things out,” Jack drawled, his deep blue eyes watching her every movement.

“Did you know about Emma?” Grace suddenly changed the subject. Although there was a table full of food between them, things were becoming a bit too heated. “About her painting, I mean.”

“I had no idea,” he told her. He would go along with this new tangent, at least for a while. They would eventually get back to the real issue at hand, though. That issue being their feelings and what they were going to do about them.

“I can’t believe that I never knew,” she said with amazement. “It was right there in front of my face!”

“Sometimes, things can be staring right at you and you never even realize it,” Jack told her. “Is that what’s going on here, Gracie?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she wavered.

“I think that you do.” He gave her a pointed look. “I think that you’re just too scared to acknowledge it.”

She stared at Jack’s serious face for a moment before placing her fork on the edge of her plate, then she scooted away from the table and gathered up her plate.

“We probably need to clean these things up,” her voice echoed through the cavernous room as she walked toward the sink. “Do you have a dishwasher?”

“To the right of the sink,” he told her with a sigh. “The front panel looks just like the rest of the cabinetry.”

“Nice,” Grace observed as she began loading the dirty dishes. Anything to keep her hands busy.

She walked back to Jack and motioned toward the table. “Are you finished?”

“I’m finished with this,” he indicated the clean plate with a nod. “As for the rest of the conversation, I’m far from finished. Not by a long shot.”

Grace pretended that she hadn’t heard him, so, biding his time, he stood and began to help her clean up the remainder of their meal. He had a week’s worth...a lifetime’s worth...of things that he wanted to say to Grace, but it was glaringly clear that she wasn’t ready. He would wait, though. Tonight was apparently not the right time. Not only had things been stressful for Grace at the residence this evening, but he’d promised to follow his grandmother home later tonight. There would come a time, though, and it would be sooner rather than later if Jack had anything to say about it. He would make his intentions known to Grace. And then the real work would begin.

Jack smiled.

Grace might not be ready to commit to a relationship, but he’d never been a man to shy away from a little hard work.

And Grace Woodhouse would be worth every second of it!