Page 32 of Homecoming

He nodded, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “Yes.”

“And why wouldn’t you go see them, show them you’re alive?”

He narrowed his eyes and heaved a sigh. It was obvious he’d wrestled with this a lot. “Because I think my brother always felt like he was in my shadow. I was the oldest, first-born son, and Dad planned on handing the ranch over to me when he retired. Hayden wanted it, though. A lot more than I did. I had other plans.”

“I’m sorry, Owen,” she said. “That must be so hard. Everyone should be with family for the holidays.”

Then, before she could second-guess herself, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him.

His heavy arms wrapped around her, and though she was running behind, she stayed in his arms for several long, heart-pounding seconds, until he shifted. Then she drew back. But she really,reallywanted to stay.

“The guys on the mountain are my family now,” he said, and his voice seemed a little more gruff than normal. “Come on, let’s get this unloaded.”

Grace directed him where to stack and she went to work on the church pews, but her mind was whirling. It sounded like a soap opera, the family being told their hero was dead and him showing up years later. Her heart ached for Owen, that he felt he couldn’t go home.

Grace pulled herself together enough to unpack everything and get everything in the right area. Owen followed along behind her, aligning everything to perfection. There were only a dozen of pews to decorate. Then she moved to the altar and unboxed the largest arrangements.

“Let me get that,” Owen said, coming up behind her when she tried to shift one to the side. “Just tell me where you want it.”

“Over another few inches. Perfect!”

Owen moved to the second one on the opposite side, and they did the same thing. When he stood up, he winced slightly.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Where do you want those?”

She directed him where to put the boxes, and she got through everything a lot quicker than she’d expected. The last box went into the bride’s dressing room, and they got there just as the family came in. The bride, Mallory Williams, gushed over her delicate, trailing bouquet of pale lavender roses and dangling ice crystals. Grace walked her through the church, as well, to make sure everything was where it needed to be.

“It looks perfect,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Grace. You made this so easy.”

“Well, this is a big day for you. Flowers need to be the easy part,” she laughed.

When she returned to Owen, he was looking at her oddly. “What?”

He just shook his head and brushed off his hands. “Now what?”

“Now we wait,” she said, shrugging. “If you want, we can go get a coffee.”

“What do you normally do when you’re waiting?”

“Normally, I go get a coffee and sit in my truck for a little. Then I sneak in and go upstairs to watch the ceremony,” she said, grinning. “As soon as it’s over, I head down to wrap things up and get them moved. The church has Christmas Eve services tonight, so I can’t leave anything behind.”

His eyes narrowed on her face. “How many weddings have you seen?”

Grace laughed, and pink filled her cheeks. “Oh, I don’t know. A hundred? Hundred and fifty?”

It was more like two hundred over the past five years, but she wasn’t going to admit that. The way he was looking at her told her he suspected, so she shrugged, laughing. “What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.”

“Yet, you’ve never been married.”

She shook her head, looking down at her nails. “Came close once,” she said, and shrugged. “It was when my dad got sick, though, and it just didn’t feel right. It didn’t break the guy’s heart when I cancelled the engagement. He laughed and said it just saved him the trouble, because he wasn’t into me anymore.”

Owen made a sound low in his throat, and when she looked at him, he seemed really angry. She appreciated that. “Come on,” she said, tucking her arm in his to lead him out of the church. “Let’s go get a coffee.”

They headed back to the car and climbed in. She cranked the ignition and adjusted the heater vents. “I wasn’t broken-hearted about the breakup. Compared to Dad being sick, it was a blip on the radar. You haven’t been married either?”

Owen had taken his hat off to sit in the car, and it rested on his knee. He ran his thumb over the hatband, and she wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

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