Second Chance in Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

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      “My son’s here,” Gracie murmured, and left her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “He’ll be able to help you.”

      The woman seemed fragile and that only made Gracie want to protect her more. She’d been blessed with sons, but had always wanted a daughter, too.

      She wondered what Calen’s relationship was to this stranger. He never asked for prayers for himself in church, so she had no idea what his life was like. But then, she never asked for prayers, either. She preferred to keep her business to herself, so she couldn’t fault him for doing the same. Still, it made her uneasy. She’d never figured Calen for the kind of man who would get involved with a woman so much younger than himself.

      It was a pity really, because apart from that Calen was—

      She’d scarcely started that thought when she stopped. Maybe her sons were more astute than she had realized. She might not trust any man enough to marry him, but she suddenly wished she could. Not that it would be Calen, of course. They had too much history. But sometimes, like now, she missed having a man at her side. She’d had a miserable marriage, yet she still believed a couple could live happily ever after if they loved each other enough.

      She shook her head at her own foolishness and took a long look at the bruises on the woman in front of her. That should be reminder enough. Some women didn’t get a happily ever after. They got a nightmare instead. She wondered if the young woman still dreamed of true love and if she thought she’d found it with a ranch foreman who had to be twice her age.

      * * *

      Calen sat in his bedroom in the Elkton bunkhouse and stared at the phone in his hand. The darkness outside his window was deep and the night was silent. He’d heard the panic in Gracie’s voice. And he didn’t believe she had dialed his number by mistake.

      Without thinking, he swung his legs out of bed. It would only take him a couple of minutes to go to her place and check on her. He had failed to help her when she’d needed him more than a decade ago; he wasn’t going to let her down again.

      He barely had time to pray for every worry that raced through his mind before he pulled into the driveway that led to the main Stone ranch house. As he sped over the small rise, he could see a car and two pickups parked near the porch.

      Calen pulled his pickup to a stop behind the last vehicle and started walking over to the porch. A dog turned and growled at him, but Calen didn’t hesitate. He was prepared to knock on Gracie’s kitchen door, but there was no need. The door was wide open, even though two people were kneeling in the shadows.

      “What’s wrong?” he said as he took the steps up to the porch.

      “I shouldn’t have called you,” Gracie said as she looked up. He didn’t think she was really aware of him until he spoke.

      “Please leave,” she added. “Everything’s fine.”

      Gracie’s long black hair was pulled into a braid that ran down her back. She always had been a striking woman, and her Cherokee ancestry was pronounced in the shadows. Dark brown eyes were cold as she looked at him. Her fine-boned hands gripped the collar of her cotton robe with enough strength to betray her agitation, even though her face told him absolutely nothing of her thoughts.

      “I’m not going to leave until you tell me what’s wrong.” He was relieved to see that Gracie’s youngest son, Tyler, was the other person kneeling there. The two of them had fished together many years ago. Even as a boy, he’d always had good sense.

      “We have a bit of a situation here,” Tyler answered, lifting his head.

      “Someone has been beating up on this woman,” Gracie interrupted fiercely, her emotions breaking through now and her eyes flashing as they met Calen’s. “And it’s not going to happen again.”

      He couldn’t miss her meaning. “I’ve never hit a woman in my life.”

      Did she really think that of him? he wondered in dismay.

      “You and my husband grew up together,” she continued bitterly. “You were best friends. I had forgotten that until now.”

      Calen felt the guilt twist inside of him. He didn’t know how he hadn’t seen that abusive side of Buck Stone. “If I had known what was happening in this house, I would have done something. You have to believe that.”

      Gracie was silent. They’d both gone through some rough times, Calen told himself. He was forty-eight years old now. She was a year younger. Maybe if he hadn’t been so strongly attracted to her when she’d moved to Dry Creek back in high school, he would have kept hanging out with Buck after he’d married her. Maybe then he would have seen the changes in the man.

      “We need to call the sheriff.” Tyler spoke without looking up from the woman.

      “What?” Gracie and Calen said in unison as they turned to stare at him.

      “Someone may have been beating up on her,” Tyler explained. “But the reason she passed out is that she’s been shot. It’s more of a graze than anything, but she has been slowly losing blood.”

      Tyler shifted his position as he held up a hand with a small spot of red. When he moved, Calen was finally able to see the face of the woman lying on the porch.

      “Renee?” he whispered.

      “You know her?” Gracie asked. Her tone was flat, and she didn’t give away her feelings even though he sensed she disapproved.

      Calen turned to look at her squarely. “Renee is my daughter.”

      A wave of shock flashed across Gracie’s face. Her skin paled and her lips parted as if she was going to say something, but couldn’t think of the words. If they’d talked about anything important in the past decade, he would have mentioned his daughter to her. He wondered if Buck had even told her about his brief marriage to Renee’s mother.

      “Tell the sheriff we need an ambulance,” Tyler said as he picked up the phone lying on the porch and handed it to Calen. “Your Renee put some kind of bandage on the wound herself, but it didn’t work. The sooner we get her to an emergency room, the better.”

      Calen took the phone as Tyler turned back to his patient.

      “I could use some clean water,” Tyler said without looking up.

      “I’ll get it.” Gracie stood.

      Calen dialed the sheriff’s number as he moved slightly so he could see Renee’s face better. What kind of trouble had his daughter gotten herself into? He’d married her mother on the rebound when he’d gotten her pregnant, even though he was still half in love with Gracie. The marriage had been doomed from the start and he’d been too young and inexperienced to save it. Finally, his wife had left him, telling him she preferred to get child support instead of being stuck on a ranch in the middle of nowhere with a squalling baby and a man who smelled like horses. Nothing he’d said had prevented her from leaving. It had all happened two decades ago, but when he turned to God several years back, it was the one thing he’d needed forgiveness for the most. He wasn’t sure he’d tried hard enough to save his marriage, and he had lost his daughter in the process.

      “Sheriff Wall? Could you come out to the Stone place?”

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