Page 5 of His Saving Grace

Instead, he got in Blue and drove away.

He’d cried that night, alone and scared. Almost turned around and came home. Only his stubborn pride—and his refusal to give in to his father’s demands—kept him in that dank and smelly motel room.

As if reading his mind, Eloise placed a hand on his knee. Her touch comforted him, grounded him, and he closed his eyes and exhaled.

Silence descended and he just breathed. In and out. In and out. A hot breeze brushed against his sticky, sweaty skin, bringing the scents of grass and flowers, dirt and diesel, hay and livestock. Scents he’d forgotten. Scents of home.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell anyone you were coming home?”

Mason’s gut clenched at how she said home. He wasn’t sure it applied to him and this place anymore, but he refused to argue with her. He opened his eyes and turned to her. “I didn’t know I was coming. I was restless…bored I guess.” Not the entire truth, but it would have to do. She didn’t need to know about his sleepless nights and how he wandered around his townhouse, feeling lost and useless. Alone and scared. Wondering if it was all worth it. Letting darker, more dangerous thoughts seep in. The kind that terrified him. “So, Tank and I got in the truck and we just drove. Before I knew it, we were halfway here, so I figured what the hell.”

“I’m glad. It’s been a long time. Too long.”

He nodded, not sure what to say, because it was all his fault. “What’s the deal with Grace?” It was a graceless change of subject, but it was best to keep focused on the here and now. Not that long ago day or the lengthy years in between or the regrets and mistakes that tied them all together.

“She told you, she’s my assistant.” Eloise cupped his jaw. “My sweet, sweet boy. I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m sorry that—”

“It’s okay. I understand why you couldn’t be there.”

She nodded, but sadness lingered in her eyes.

He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see it, and leaned into her touch. When was the last time they’d had a quiet moment together? Another regret to toss on the ever-growing pile.

He covered his mother’s hand with his and pulled it away. He opened his eyes, giving her what he hoped was a questioning stare. “You know as well as I do that you don’t need any assistance.”

She shrugged her slender shoulders and smiled. “She was so lost and forlorn, I couldn’t just leave her there in the coffee shop. She needed a job, so I gave her one.”

Mason sighed. His mother’s kindness was the sort others often exploited. “What do you know about her? Is she dangerous?”

Eloise waved her hand, as if she was waving the question away. “You were always such a worrier.” She squeezed the hand that held hers. “She’s harmless, Mason. And she’s sweet and lovely and I like having her around.”

He almost rolled his eyes at his mother’s naivety, but at her slightly narrowed gaze, he decided against pissing her off. No doubt she hadn’t even done a background check on the woman. “Do you even know anything about her? And what exactly does she do around here as your assistant?” He pulled his hand from hers and air-quoted the final word.

“She helps me, and she needs me and that’s all you need to worry about.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she stopped him with her palm out. He snapped his jaw shut, knowing that arguing once she’d made up her mind was pointless. His stubbornness hadn’t only come from the Callahan side of the family.

Eloise cocked her head, and a sad smile teased her lips. “Did you go and see him?”

Mason’s heart bounced against his ribs, that same old pain and regret pumping through him with every solid thud. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed hard, trying to dislodge it. It didn’t work. It sat there, painful and distracting, making it so he couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe.

Leave it to his mother to get right to the point. She’d always been that way, but he’d hoped she’d give him a little space. He wasn’t ready. It was too much. He needed time. Time to deal with everything that had changed.

“Hey, Major ass-face, I heard a rumor you’d finally hauled your ass back here.”

Mason turned and glanced over the railing. Jake strode toward the porch with a grin and a John Wayne swagger. Thank God for small favors and pain-in-the-ass distractions.

Jake pulled off his work gloves and tucked them into the back pocket of his jeans. Looked like he’d come from the workshop.

“Jacob Bryan Callahan, you watch your language.” Eloise wagged her finger in Jake’s direction.

He had the good sense to look ashamed, though it was all show. He’d built a life on always playing the victim to one of his four older brothers, even though he’d always been the most reckless and aggressive.

Jake jumped up to the base of the porch and vaulted over the railing. His feet hit the wood with a thud, sending Tank scrabbling to her feet. The dog practically vibrated, but she remained where she was. Her head swung back and forth between Mason and Jake, and she gave a little yip.

“All right, go ahead.” Mason waved his fingers, and she bounded forward. She skidded to a halt in front of Jake and flopped over onto her back. Typical. His brother was a known lady’s man, and it seemed his charms extended beyond the human race.

“Well, hello pretty lady.” Jake bent down and rubbed her exposed belly. Tank squirmed a little, moving until Jake scratched the exact spot she wanted and then settled down. Jake looked up at Mason with a grin. “I take it she’s yours?”