Brash Read Free

curious. “Gracie?”
    Grace’s heart ballooned inside her chest and exploded in a rush of gratefulness. It was the way of it now. Every time she walked into his room, she wondered if his eyes would flash with warm recognition or cool disinterest.
    â€œHi, Dad,” she said with gentle warmth, leaning forward. This was the man who had become her everything when her mother had passed from a car accident when she was ten. This was the man who had tucked her into bed at night, made her spaghetti and s’mores, and green smoothies when she was on a health kick. The man who had let her stay up late and told her stories about his adventures as sheriff. Protected her, loved her, treated her like she was the most special thing in the world. Made her believe she could be anything she wanted to be.
    Her hero.
    She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back.
    â€œWho’s the mongrel?” he asked good-naturedly.
    Grace grinned. “This is Belle. She’s a friend of mine.”
    Her father reached down and gave the basset hound, who had been waiting patiently beside the table, a pat on the head and a rub under the chin. Belle leaned into him and licked his hand. For a moment it seemed as though her father was as content and happy and clear as she’d seen him of late. But after a moment, his face fell and he pulled his hand away. “Those eyes . . . she looks about as miserable as I feel,” he ground out bitterly.
    Grace pushed back the wall of pain that threatened to steal her hope and faith. “Why are you miserable, Dad?”
    â€œStuck in here when I have a job to do,” he explained, his chin lifting in that way it always did when he talked about his work as a sheriff. “People out there who need me. If I’m not sprung soon, I could lose my job, Gracie. Your mama doesn’t bring in enough midwifing.”
    God, it hurt her so much to hear him talk about the past as though it was the present. Thinking her mom was still alive. But hurt didn’t help him, and it sure didn’t do anything to protect his good name.
    â€œDad,” she began gently. “I need you to tell me about Mr. Palmer.”
    His dark brows rose and he looked momentarily interested. “Caleb?”
    She nodded.
    â€œWell, honey, he is my very best friend.” A hint of a smile played about his lips. “Good man. Right good man. Always there for me. That’s how friends should be. Don’t you forget that.”
    Grace reached down and started stroking Belle’s head. “He’s done something terrible.”
    Her father didn’t even hesitate before answering. “No, no, baby. Not him.”
    â€œYes, Dad,” she insisted, breath caught in her lungs, bracing herself for what was coming. “He hurt a woman.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, hurt?” He sat back in his chair looking utterly dumbstruck for a moment. Then his skin went cow udder white and he gasped. “Lord Almighty! He takin’ the blame for that, is he?”
    Shit
. So her father had already heard about the attack. Grace would have to speak to Bev and Elisabeth. In his condition, he shouldn’t be hearing about such upsetting things from anyone but her.
    â€œHe admitted it, Dad. There were witnesses and a police report. And the woman’s going to testify against him.”
    A sad smile touched Peter Hunter’s mouth. “How can she, baby? She’s dead.”
    A boulder the size of Texas rolled through Grace and sat there, festering in her belly. Her pulse pounded savagely in her blood. Instead of asking him to clarify his words or continue, she wanted,more than anything, to get up and walk out. But she had to ask, didn’t she? It’s why she’d come. To find out what he knew. To find out the truth.
    â€œWho are you talking about, Dad?” she began softly.
    â€œThat girl, Gracie dear.” His gaze shifted to his magazine and