Grace by Chris Keniston

Author:Chris Keniston [Keniston, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie House Publishing
Published: 2017-07-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

From where she stood in the kitchen Grace could see the men coming back from the barn. Her heart had no business kicking into fast gear. It was only one kiss. And the fact that she so wanted to do it again was the biggest reason why she shouldn't. She had a plan. A good plan. Though it might need some tweaking. Chase Prescott was too damn tempting for her own good. Sticking around the ranch for a few months to study for the bar was looking less and less like a good idea. She'd better let her roommate know she'd be coming home after the wedding to study.

"Oh, dear. I think he's going to leave." Aunt Eileen turned off the water, grabbed a dish rag to wipe her hands, shuffled across the kitchen and threw open the back door. "You're not letting our guest leave without supper, are you?"

An expression akin to the day after a stock market crash slipped from her dad's face and a soft chuckle and sweet smile took its place. "Of course not Eileen."

Chase looked to her father as though that was the first he'd heard of staying for supper, but when he turned back toward the house, he was smiling as broadly as her dad. The back door creaked open wider and one by one the men filed in, each hanging their hats on a hook except for Chase. He glanced at the hook and she could almost see the wheels of his mind turning. How stupid would he look in a Stetson? Unfortunately, the answer rolling around her head wasn't the expected, but instead, damn hot.

"What are all the glum faces about?" Sean headed straight to the fridge and poured his customary after work glass of milk. For years he'd drunk the stuff due to ulcers. By now Grace figured he drank it out of sheer habit than for medicinal purposes.

"Just a few setbacks," Catherine answered. "We're going to have to rework the foundational idea for the therapy camp."

"Rework how?" Finn pulled a beer from the mudroom refrigerator.

"Accommodating handicapped children and their parents or caregivers is going to be an expensive challenge."

DJ accepted the beer his brother handed him, his eyes slightly narrowed. "So you're thinking what? Emotional disabilities? Autism?"

"Sort of." Hannah waved her hand back and forth. "Autistic children rarely deal well with changes. Just sending them to a strange city with people they don't know could be severely traumatic."

DJ nodded. "Of course. I hadn't even thought about that. Definitely not a good thing."

"See what I mean?" Catherine gathered all the papers and slid them into a folder.

DJ took a long swallow and the set the bottle on the counter behind him. "What about adults with PTSD?"

Catherine's head shot up.

"Marines," Hannah volunteered. "We work with quite a few veterans. Not just PTSD. Lots come home with a variety of injuries that can be helped by equine therapy."

For the first time since Grace had come through the door, Catherine's expression regained a flicker of hope.

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