Page 23 of First Love, Second Draft

Scotty:Okay. Glad you’re at least considering it. We’ll talk more later.

12

Tuesday morning Gracie opened the bathroom door, feeling way too overtaxed for a woman who’d done nothing more than simply pee in a toilet on her own. Oh, the things she’d always taken for granted.

“Wow, this lady really hates that horse, doesn’t she?”

One of those things she’d taken for granted was never living next door to her husband.

Ex-husband!

She cinched her robe tighter around her waist. “What are you doing here? You can’t just pop in and out of the house all willy-nilly.”

Noah stood in the hallway, one shoulder casually pressed against the wall, as he licked his finger and flipped a page in the pile of papers he was holding. “I can if I’m fixing breakfast so you don’t starve to death.”

The scent of maple syrup and bacon wafting from the kitchen punctuated his words and made her stomach growl. He must’ve heard, because one of his brows lifted.

“Fine. Maybe a quick breakfast. Hey, is that my story?” She peered closer at the papers.

“You tell me.” He scratched his gnarled beard. “I thought your story was supposed to be a romance.”

“Itisa romance.” Or it would be. Once she fixed everything.

“Between who? The lady and the horse? Because I actuallywouldn’t mind seeing them reach some sort of happy reconciliation by the end. Not so sure about the guy.”

Well, Gracie wasn’t so sure she was going to make it another step if Noah didn’t offer her any help soon. “Noah,” she bit out.

“Huh? Oh.” The papers flopped to the ground as he angled in front of her, offering both of his forearms so she could grip them like a walker the remaining steps to the kitchen.

“I thought the physical therapist said I’d recover quickly,” Gracie said once they finally made it to the kitchen table.

“Considering you’ve only been home a few days and you’re already using the bathroom on your own, I’d say you’re recovering at lightning speed. More than I can say for the horse. Did she really have to shoot him?”

“It was an accident. He’ll be fine. Everyone needs to stop worrying about that evil horse already.” Noah helped lower her onto the kitchen chair, then retrieved the pile of papers off the hallway floor and straightened them into a tidy stack on the table.

“Hey, your dad tried calling while you were in the bathroom. Hope you don’t mind I answered.”

“Is he okay? Do I need to go see him?”

“Buck’s fine. He specifically said you shouldn’t visit him, that you should focus on getting stronger and finishing your story first.”

“Oh, Dad.” They talked all the time, so he knew more than anyone how hard Gracie had been struggling to write this story. How hard she’d been struggling in general.

She’d give him a call later this afternoon. Hopefully she could catch him between his dialysis session and his late afternoon nap.

Gracie ran her finger over the pile of papers that contained her mess of a story as Noah started grabbing plates from the cupboard. “Where did you even get a copy of this?”

“I printed it off last night from your computer after you fell asleep on the couch. Which reminds me, you’re out of ink now.” He opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice.

“Why?”

“Pretty sure the ink cartridge was low to begin with.”

“No. Why are you reading my story?”

“Figured you needed the help. Didn’t you say you were on a tight deadline?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got it under control. Thank you,” she added when he set a glass of orange juice next to her plate.

---