Forever Grace (18 page)

And she was going to
need
that help.

“You don’t have to stay, Sage. Why don’t you and Josh and Lilly go with your aunt, and I’ll just keep Annabelle company?” Sean met Grace’s gaze and shrugged. “I’m sure you’d find it easier to shop without a two-year-old in tow.”

Indecision flickered in her expression for a second before she shook her head. “It would be infinitely easier,” she agreed, “but I don’t dare leave you on your own with her.”

“I’ll stay,” Josh volunteered. “I don’t mind. I don’t feel like shopping anyway, and if Annabelle wakes up, I can get her out of her crib for Mr. McKittrick.”

“Well, then,” Sean said, filing away Grace’s look of utter astonishment with all the other clues he’d collected, “that’s settled. Now, I don’t suppose you have a spare raincoat, do you? The day got a little soggy out there.”

Grace followed Sean out onto the porch, shivering in the afternoon’s damp chill. Holding the umbrella over Sean’s head to protect him from the steady drizzle of rain, she did her best not to dwell on the memories of their parting here the night before.
Friends, Grace. You’re just friends. That’s what’s best.

Sean picked his way across the wooden surface carefully, wet leaves slipping beneath his crutches. She made a mental note to have Josh rake them up for her when he finished his homework. The last thing she wanted was to be the cause of yet another fall for their neighbor.

Sean reached the top of the stairs and turned. “You really don’t have to do this.”

She shook her head inside the hood of the rain cape she wore. It was the only adult-sized one in the cottage, and Sean had refused to borrow it and leave her without. Hence the umbrella.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d never forgive myself if you caught pneumonia on top of all the other trouble we’ve caused.”

“You haven’t caused any trouble, Grace. And I won’t melt if I get a little wet. I’m tougher than you think.”

“You have to be, around us.”

He chuckled. “I suppose, yes.”

He picked his way down the stairs, and she trailed behind, one hand half outstretched in case he slipped. Together, they started along the path toward the trees, Sean’s garbage-bag-encased cast rustling with each step. Grace shifted her grip on the umbrella.

“You never told me how it happened,” she said.

Sean paused and looked back over his shoulder. “This?” He indicated his leg and shrugged. “You never asked.”

Because she hadn’t wanted to know. Hadn’t wanted to invite confidences. And sure as heck hadn’t wanted to be close enough to him to care. She held back a sigh.

That
ship had sailed.

But still…
just friends.

“It never seemed the right time,” she lied.

Sean looked up at the umbrella she held over him, then around at the dripping trees. Thunder rumbled overhead. But he was polite enough not to comment on the obvious.

“Work,” he said. “An accident.”

She frowned. “Car?”

Sean turned to continue picking his way along the path. “I was shot.”

Grace stumbled and almost knocked him over. “Seriously?”

“Unfortunately.” Sean balanced on one leg and a crutch, and pushed the umbrella out of his face. His jaw had flexed, and the bottle-green eyes had gone flat.

“I—wow—I don’t know what to say,” she murmured. “What happened? Or don’t you want to talk about it?”

Sean shrugged. “It was a domestic dispute with suspected weapons involved. And kids. The guy had a high-powered rifle. I got in the way.”

A domestic. Grace shuddered. Just like her sister and Barry, only no one had been there to call the cops for Juli. She thrust away the horror that never quite left her anymore.

“How bad?” she asked Sean.

“A direct hit on the femur. A lot of bone fragments and some soft tissue damage, but fortunately the artery wasn’t touched.”

“And the prognosis? Will you be able to go back to work?”

Would he want to after an incident like that?

“If I stop falling on it?” Sean quirked a half-grin at her. “More than likely. I’ll be off for a few months, and I have a lot of therapy ahead, but all in all, I was lucky.”

Lucky. Grace bit the inside of her bottom lip. She supposed that was one way to look at it, but—

Sean raised an eyebrow. “What?” he asked.

“I’ve just never really thought about how dangerous a cop’s job is. I mean, I read the stories, of course, but I don’t
think
about it.”

“Few people do—including cops. We function better when we
don’t
think about it.”

A gust of wind threatened to turn the umbrella inside out, and Sean tipped his head toward his cottage. “Come on. We’d better get me inside so you can get home again and out of this.”

Grace walked with him to the sliding door he’d left unlocked. She held the umbrella over him until he’d stepped inside, then watched him strip off the dripping plastic Josh had helped him taped over the cast.

“Did it survive?” she asked.

“Seems intact. Josh did a good job. Tell him thanks for me?”

“Of course.” She half turned to go, then looked back at him. “About tomorrow—”

“Just after one,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

That wasn’t at all what she’d been going to say, but the unfurling warmth in her chest somehow rendered argument impossible. He was lucky to be alive—and she and the kids were lucky to know him at all. She nodded.

“See you then.”

“Aunt Grace?”

Grace looked up from diapering Annabelle to find her nephew hovering in the bedroom doorway. “Yes, Josh?”

“Why did you learn jujitsu?”

Grace did up the Velcro tabs on the diaper wrap, then secured them with diaper pins. They’d had no more messy surprises since she’d bought the pins, and she intended to see it stayed that way. She reached for her niece’s pajamas and glanced again at Josh.

“You know I do a lot of traveling, right?”

“I kept all the postcards you sent me, but Mom said we didn’t have room to bring everything with us when we moved in with you. I like the ones from China best. And India.”

Grace smiled. She’d known the kids would love those countries. Somehow, when all this was over, she’d get that collection back for Josh.

“Well, traveling alone can be dangerous sometimes, especially for a woman. I wanted to be sure I could protect myself if I got into trouble.”

“Trouble like my mom, you mean?”

The knife that resided permanently in her heart these days gave a vicious little twist. God, how she hated that conversations like this were needed. Wished she knew better how to handle them.

She nodded. “Kind of like that, yes.”

Her nephew digested her words while she slid Annabelle’s legs into the footed pajama onesie and then stood the toddler up on the dresser top. Annabelle bounced enthusiastically.

“Why didn’t Mom learn, too?”

With one of Annabelle’s arms in a pajama sleeve and the other eluding capture, Grace blew out a long breath, puffing out her cheeks. Annabelle giggled and tried to imitate her. Grace seized on the moment of distraction and slid the second sleeve into place. She zipped up the onesie and set her niece on the floor. Then, the knife wound in her heart aching, she leaned against the dresser, hands gripping the top on either side.

“Not everyone is interested in learning. Most people don’t think they need to. Your mom and I never really talked about it, but I suppose she felt safe with your dad when they first met, and then when she had babies to look after, she was just busy.”

And in denial, apparently. So much denial.

Josh’s thin shoulders hunched, and his throat moved convulsively. “I’ll bet she wishes now that she’d learned.”

Grace crossed to his side and wrapped him in a wordless hug, not knowing what to say. Not sure there was anything she
could
say. But she could hold him. She could hold him—all of them—and keep them safe.

Josh sniffled and lifted a hand to wipe the tears from under his glasses. “She’s not going to wake up, is she?”

Grace squeezed her eyes closed. God, what she wouldn’t give to be able to tell him Juli would wake up and be herself and be his mom again. But she wouldn’t lie. She couldn’t lie, because if Juli died, or lived but wasn’t ever Juli again, Grace would be all Josh and the others had. And if he couldn’t trust her…

She dashed away her own tears. “I don’t know, Josh. I wish I did, but I don’t.”

A shudder traveled through his slight frame, and his arms went around her waist in a fierce hug. Annabelle wedged herself against their legs.

“Jossa sad?” she asked.

Josh stepped back, wiped his eyes again, and then heaved his baby sister into his arms. “Joshua is fine,” he told her. “We’re all fine.”

His face took on a determined look, and he met Grace’s gaze. “We’re fine because you’re here with us, Aunt Grace, and whatever happens, you’re doing your best.”

“Oh, Josh.” Grace ruffled his hair. “You’re an awesome kid, you know that?”

He ducked his head and shrugged awkwardly around his armload. “Do you want me to read Annabelle a bedtime story?”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.”

He headed out the door, then turned. “Aunt Grace?”

“What, sweetheart?”

“Is it okay if I learn jujitsu, too?”

“It’s more than okay, Josh. I think it’s a great idea.”

GRACE UNLOADED THE SHOPPING CART
onto the conveyor belt, separating Sean’s groceries from her own with a bright red stick emblazoned with
Thank you for shopping with us!
Sage and Lilliane assisted, carefully lining up boxes of pasta and bags of produce. It was nice, being out with just the two of them, but weird, too. She felt lost without Josh and Annabelle. She hadn’t been away from any of the kids in more than a month. Never been more than arms’ reach away or not known exactly where they were and what they were doing.

Well, except for their cookie escapade.

Grace’s mouth tipped upward. She had to admit she was rather glad the kids had taken matters into their own hands, keeping Sean in their lives. She wouldn’t have done so herself. She still meant what she’d told Luc about not spilling her guts to the man, but Luc had been right about having another grownup around.

And a grownup willing to take a two-year-old off her hands for the afternoon? Pure gold.

The girls set the last of the groceries on the belt, and Grace turned her attention to her lists—one for her family, one for Sean. She scanned them one last time to be sure she had everything. The conveyor lurched forward as the cashier began processing the order. Sage and Lilly moved ahead to watch her scan the items. Grace followed.

“It’s two separate orders,” she told the cashier, “but if things get mixed up in the bags, it’s not a big problem.”

“Sure thing, hon.” The middle-aged woman didn’t slow down, whisking items through at a steady pace.

Cheerful and efficient, the woman—Dana, according to her name tag—was by far one of the best cashiers Grace had ever run across. She’d found herself in the woman’s lineup once before and was only too happy to have her again today. No unnecessary chatter, no fumbling to find codes, just a quick, friendly delivery of service and—

“You’re short a couple today.”

“Pardon?”

Dana nodded at Sage and Lilliane. “You only have two along. You’re short a couple.”

Cold pooled in Grace’s belly. “Excuse me?”

“Last time I saw you, you had four in tow.” Dana chuckled, running three more items over the scanner in quick succession. “Lord, I love that little one. Such a cutie, with all those blond curls. And so good-natured. Did she and your young man stay home with dad today?”

As if sensing the panic swelling in Grace’s chest, Lilliane’s hand slipped into hers, and Sage’s arms stole around her waist. Grace fought down the urge to scoop up both girls and bolt from the store.

“Don’t do anything to attract attention,”
Paul Kingsley’s voice rang in her ears.
“You don’t want anyone to notice you or remember you.”

Anyone such as a too-observant cashier in a store they’d only visited twice before. She forced herself to smile at Dana. To squeeze Lilly’s fingers in reassurance. To gently rub Sage’s shoulder.

“She is a sweetheart, isn’t she?” she replied to the cashier’s question. “And yes, they stayed home today.”

Dana reached the stick dividing Sean’s groceries from her own.

“You know what?” Grace said, blood thundering in her ears. “I’m in a bit of a rush, so let’s just put both orders together.”

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble for me, and it will only take a few extra minutes.”

With what she considered astonishing restraint, Grace managed not to scream at Dana. Or to reach across the counter to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled. She smiled again.

“I’m sure,” she said. “But thanks.”

Back at the minivan a few minutes later, Grace did up Sage’s seatbelt with trembling fingers.

“Aunt Grace, is the lady going to tell Daddy where to find us now?”

Grace swallowed against the bile rising into her throat at the worry in her niece’s voice. At knowing what lay behind that worry. Composing her features, she pulled back to look down at the five-year-old with a confidence she didn’t feel. “No, sweetie. The lady doesn’t even know your daddy.”

That much was almost certainly true. The chances of a direct connection between a cashier in Perth and a cop on the run in Ottawa were infinitesimal at best. It was the possibility of indirect connections that made Grace’s blood run cold. For all that Perth might be nearly an hour from Ottawa, and Ottawa might be a sizeable metropolis, the entire valley was surprisingly well connected.

Frighteningly so.

People knew each other. They were related to one another. They would talk. And the friend of a friend of someone’s third cousin twice removed would mention something in a coffee shop, and another friend would overhear, and then Barry would know, and—

Grace expelled a shaky breath.
Stop it
, she scolded herself.
Barry will be found long before word of a woman with four children in Perth ever reaches his ears. You’re being ridiculous.