Heart of Grace (Return to Grace Trilogy #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

nodded to the group. The men muttered their
hellos and then returned to their meals. Spoons clattered
against the bottom of bowls, their voices slowly picking up
again.
The storm trembled beyond the walls. Lights flickered, but
her dinner companions were too intent on their suppers to
notice the storm.
“Not hungry?” the boy to her left asked between scoops
of food.
“No, I ate already.”
“Miss Nadine’s stew is real good,” he urged. “Take a taste.”
How absurd it was to be sitting at this table with these
rednecks talking about stew! She frowned at Cole.
The man sitting next to Cole said “so, you got a girl? Right
on, been a while.”
“Hey, Cole,” said another man, “you pick her up in
Cheyenne? Heard them Wyoming girls are classy these days.”
“Maybe she was his nurse,” a man further down the table
said, letting out a hoot. “Looks like old Cole’s back on top,
busted arm and all.”
“You got any friends in Wyoming, sweetie?” Another hand
said as the others broke out into snickering laughter. “We all
could use some tending to.”
The boy to her left – James? Jeremy? – said, “Nah, she’s not
Wyoming. She’s classy, and that pretty suit of hers has gotta
cost a pretty penny. So I’d wager she’s from L.A. or New
York.”
“Enough, Jeremy. All of you,” Cole said evenly. “She's
Henry’s girl.”
The men quieted and diverted their gazes. She wasn’t sure
if they were embarrassed for themselves or for her. Being the
daughter of Henry Donnelly said all that needed to be said.
There was little doubt that her troubles in Grace had become
one of those anecdotes that never really went away.
Jeremy muttered, “Didn’t mean no disrespect, miss.”
Angela stood. “It was nice meeting all of you,” she said
politely.
Cole shoved his plate away and followed her into the
kitchen.
She picked up her shoes, intending to clean the clumps of
dirt off the stiletto heels, but Cole took them from her, tossed
them to the tile floor and grabbed her hand.
He led her into the study and slid the door closed behind
them.
“Sorry, about them, they live out in the ranch quarters and
don’t get into town much when it’s busiest in the summer.
They don’t get to see many women, except for Nadine, and she
mostly gives them a hard time.”
“Well,” Angela said, uncomfortably aware of her bare feet,
“I suppose they had that stored up, then. Glad I was able to
provide the evening’s entertainment.”
Lightning flashed and thunder growled. The wash would
flood. If she didn’t leave soon it would be impassable.
“It can’t be easy, Angie, coming back here like this,” Cole
said. “There’ll be more of what you got out there. When people
find out you’re back-”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not back,” Angela said
impatiently, thinking she would have sold everything she
owned just to have her shoes on her feet at that moment. “We
need to talk about the arena. Twice I tried to bring it up and
you avoided it. Why?”
Cole sat in the leather gentleman’s chair beside the desk.
The room was sparse, the walls painted a deep brown. This
was a man’s den. It had belonged to Doug.
“You come here with your briefcase and your fancy
clothes. And you want business with me. It can’t be avoided. I
know that.”
Cole jerked to standing. He had taken the cowboy hat off
as soon as they’d come inside. He still wore the boots and
worn-out Wranglers he’d had on earlier that afternoon. His
hair was the color of a walnut, left untamed to fall carelessly
against his collar, and wetted from the rain so that tufts stuck
out. The cut of his jeans were tight against a bottom sculpted
by the horses he rode, the pant legs bunching up at the ankle
to allow extra room for his boots.
He turned to look out the window at the storm. Angela
took a deep breath and spoke to his back, knowing it made her
a coward. “My father left me the arena in his will.”
Cole turned. “He didn’t leave