Excerpt from Her Secret to Keep by Makenna Lee
Her Secret to Keep
by Makenna Lee
Chapter One
W hy is Grayson DeLuca here?
Sage Dalton had tried for over a decade to forget what she’d done to save her horse ranch, and now a living reminder was standing right in front of her with a broad shoulder braced against one of four massive posts that ran up to the peaked timber roof two stories above them. A businessman out of place in this hundred-year-old abandoned building.
She wrapped her arms around her body as a team of arial flyers swooped around her stomach, but her vocal cords were stuck in freeze-frame mode.
Grayson’s jade-green eyes had a few fine lines at the corners, but he had the same thick, dark hair, always on the verge of needing a haircut while still managing to look perfectly put together in a roguish sort of way. He had the same good looks, more rugged than refined. The same self-assured posture. And the same achingly exquisite heart tug that had made her fall for him years ago.
As for having the same smile...she had no idea. The only hint that he’d even seen her was a flicker of awareness in his wide eyes.
“Hi, Sage.” His familiar deep voice was kind and steady but also gave nothing away.
“Hello, Grayson. It’s been a while,” she said needlessly and mentally rolled her eyes. They both knew exactly how long it had been—to the day. She needed to pull herself together because it wasn’t the late summer heat causing her sudden flush. She was barely holding herself together while he was Mr. Chill-as-a-Popsicle.
“Thirteen years,” he said. His pearl-gray tie hung loose, and the top two buttons of his tailored white shirt were undone. With his sleeves rolled up, the simple movement of hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his charcoal slacks showed off the corded muscles of his forearms. He looked ready for a photo shoot.
She, on the other hand? Sage inwardly cringed. Not good. Not good at all. Was it too late to backtrack and pass herself off as her tomboy twin sister, Daisy?
A sparrow flew across the wide-open interior of the red brick building, and they both followed the bird’s path to where it landed on a crossbeam. Bits of straw and twigs poked out of its nest, probably like the mess on her head.
Sage brushed both hands through her shoulder-length blond hair, frizzy from bathing the mischievous new foal who’d rolled in the dirt. Her butter-yellow T-shirt and worn jeans were mud splattered, and one sleeve was partially torn off from where the horse had grabbed it with his teeth. She wasn’t even wearing lip balm, much less a carefully applied full face of makeup, and the only cute item she had with her was her black-and-white Kate Spade handbag.
She was the sister who was always well put together before leaving the ranch, but when she’d received a call about the anonymous buyer showing up, she hadn’t wasted a second before hopping into her truck and heading to town. Big mistake.
“How did you know it was me and not my sister, Daisy?”
“You might be identical twins, but I can tell you apart.” One corner of his mouth twitched as if he would smile, but the moment passed.
Her stomach clenched. Managing things around her made her feel in charge of her own life, and she hated this sudden lack of control over her emotions. The deep ache being dredged up would take time to unpack, sort through and be delt with in a way she hadn’t done properly in her early twenties.
She tried to adjust her torn sleeve, but it was no use. “I seem to be in the right clothes to start cleaning up this place, but you’re a bit overdressed for poking around an abandoned building.”
He glanced down as if he had no idea what he was wearing. “I had a meeting this morning before leaving Houston.”
“What are you doing here?” She circled her hand to encompass the whole of the space she hoped to turn into a community center. It was the perfect place to reinstate the Old Town Christmas celebration that her mother had chaired for so many years.
“I just bought it.”
“You bought the grist mill?” It seemed so unlikely that she was having trouble making sense of it.
“That’s right. I’m the new owner.”
“Really?” She’d been so distracted by the sight of him, she hadn’t connected the obvious dots.
“You find it hard to believe?”
“It’s unexpected. I didn’t think you would ever come back to Channing.”
“Me either,” he said under his breath and then turned in a slow circle while looking up at the crossbeams. “It looks pretty sturdy.”
“You’re the architect, and if you say it is, I’m sure it’s true.” The anger she’d carried into this meeting vanished. She had been prepared to hate the out-of-town buyer, especially if they had plans to tear it down. His owning it was great news, and a worry lifted from her mind. Grayson’s great-great-grandfather had helped build this grist mill beside Channing Creek, and there was no way he would tear it down.
But why had he bought this building? Surely they weren’t moving back. Or were they? “Does this mean...?”
A door banged in the back corner, and a young girl walked out of the office space. “I hope the house is better than this junky old place,” she said.
Sage’s whole body went numb, and her vision wavered. She’d only thought seeing Grayson was the biggest emotional shock of the day, but there was no mistaking the teenager walking their way. A child she’d never expected to see again but had thought about so very often over the years. Her light brown hair was long and falling loose around her face almost as if she was trying to hide.
“Loren,” Sage said with a hand pressed tight against her stomach as if that would hold in the rush of emotions.
The young girl’s head snapped up, and her curious gaze flicked over Sage’s unfortunate state of dress. Her face was definitely more expressive than her father’s and was somewhere between horror and humor. “How do you know my name?”
Sage worked her mouth, but words refused to come.
“This is Sage Dalton. An old friend.” When Grayson said the word friend, his throat bobbed.
“It’s very nice to see you again, Loren.”
“Nice to meet you.” She tugged on the hem of an oversized black T-shirt that went along with her black leggings and sleek motorcycle boots adorned with shiny silver Prada buckles. “What happened to your clothes? Were you in a fight or an accident?” Loren asked Sage.
Grayson spun away from them, and she had the feeling he was fighting a smile he didn’t want her to see.
“Not exactly.” Sage hadn’t missed the young girl’s amused reaction to her disheveled appearance. She dusted off more flecks of dried mud while her cheeks flamed. “I was trying to bathe a very feisty foal.”
“A foal?” The tilt of the teenager’s head was so much like her father’s.
“A baby horse. I own a ranch.” Why had she thought it would be okay to come into town looking like this, and what were the chances of them showing up on the first major fashion-don’t-day she’d had in the past ten years?
Loren scuffed the sole of one designer boot against the dusty concrete floor. “Dad, we have to be at the house before the moving truck gets there.”
Moving truck? So they are moving back to Channing.
The metal band of his TAG Heuer watch shifted with a soft clink as he raised his wrist to check the time. “The truck won’t be here for a couple more hours.”
“But I haven’t even seen this old house you’re moving us into. Don’t we have to move stuff out before we can move in?” Her arms spread wide and then dropped in a theatrical move that could only come from a dramatic teenage girl.
“We might have to pile some of the existing furniture into one room for a while.”
“But Dad... I haven’t even picked a bedroom, and who knows how much crap—” She cut off her words when he cleared his throat. “How much stuff will be in the room I want. And what will I do if my furniture doesn’t fit?”
Grayson sighed and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of one hand. “We’ll figure it out.”
Was this obviously unwanted move from big city to small town the source of the teen’s angst, or was it something deeper? There was a sadness in Loren’s eyes that made Sage’s heart ache, and she forgot about her own unfortunate appearance. She wanted to pull Loren into her arms and tell her everything would be okay, but Loren didn’t know her. It would only make things more awkward than they already were.
Sage adjusted the thin purse strap on her shoulder. She needed to get out of here before she did or said something to embarrass herself like she’d done the last time she’d been in a room with Grayson and Loren—and before the third member of their family showed up. She’d had enough emotional upheaval for one day.
“I need to get going.” Sage took a few steps back. “I’m sure I’ll see you two around town.”
“I’m sure you will.” His brow creased, but he held up a hand in a quick wave and finally gave her a small smile. “Bye, Sage.”
As father and daughter refocused on one another, she allowed herself one more quick glance at them before turning to go. How was she going to handle randomly seeing them around town?
Back out in the midday sunshine, she took a long, deep steadying breath. A pivotal part of her past had hurtled back into her life without warning, plunging her into painful memories. She was too rattled to be around a bunch of people who might want to stop and chat. Since so many of the businesses had opened over the last month, this original part of Channing, known as Old Town, was bustling with people—both local and tourist. She needed time alone to sort through the roar in her head and heart.
Instead of taking the shortest route along the sidewalk to where her truck was parked in front of her friend Emma’s new boutique, Glitz & Glam, Sage walked behind the row of shops on the oldest part of Main Street. Too bad she hadn’t made a stop in the boutique for a speedy wardrobe change.
On her way to the gently sloping incline that stretched all the way down to Channing Creek, she had to walk through a wooded area of oaks, elms and Texas redbuds that changed with the seasons. Redbuds were her favorite, and it’s why they’d planted them along each side of the long driveway at Dalton Ranch. She stopped under one and plucked off a shiny green heart-shaped leaf. It was smooth between her fingers, but she crumpled it in her fist—because that’s how her heart was feeling.
Wounded and put away years ago without fully healing. Forever bruised.
As she came out of the trees, she walked closer to the water’s edge where bald cypress dipped their roots into the briskly moving creek. A string of ducks floated by on a current that forced them to drift in a wavy pattern. She could sympathize because it felt as if she’d been caught up in a strong riptide.
It was unnerving to have Grayson turning up at the precise time she was soul searching about the next phase of her life. At age thirty-six, her biological clock wasn’t just ticking, it was gearing up for the final sprint of life’s timed race. She needed to make a decision about whether or not to become a single mom. Soon. Was it time to get serious about seeking medical assistance?
Her phone chimed and startled her. She pulled it from her purse and read a text from her sister, asking her to bring home a gallon of milk. She sent an affirmative text message, and with a reluctant sigh, she started up the creek bank, keeping her head down and hoping no one would approach her.
Talking all this over with Daisy would help. Her sister would be as surprised as she was about the town’s newest residents. It was already apparent that her feelings for Grayson had not died as she’d tried to convince herself of over the years, but this time she would have to do a much better job of hiding them. He wasn’t hers to love and never would be. Neither of them were. Brittany DeLuca had that honor.
When she got into her silver BMW, she instantly spotted her pink linen shirt draped across the passenger seat. “Ugh. Why didn’t I put that on before going into the mill?”
She found a hair tie in the console, and as she was pulling her hair into a ponytail, she caught sight of Grayson in front of the coffee shop, Crafty Coffee. He was turning one way and then the next, looking around with obvious concern. Loren wasn’t in sight, and she had a feeling that’s who he was looking for. His parental concern was something she couldn’t ignore. She grabbed the pink linen shirt, put it on over her T-shirt, buttoned it and tied the shirttails in a knot at her waist and then got out of her car.
In a town the size of Channing, she couldn’t avoid seeing him, but if she wanted to get Grayson on board with turning the one-hundred-year-old mill into a community center, she would have to see him fairly frequently. That thought made her heart race, and she wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or anxiety.
He saw her coming and held up both hands in a what are you going to do? gesture. “Have you seen Loren?”
“No, I haven’t.” Where was Loren’s mother while all of this was going on? “Want me to help you look for her?”
He hesitated. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s no trouble.” But just being around him could get her into more trouble than she needed right now...or ever.
“Then yes, please. Let’s head this way.” He pointed up the street toward the Rodeo Café.
She fell into step beside him. “What happened?”
“We got a call that the moving truck full of our furniture was in an accident.”
“Oh, no.”
“Everyone is okay, but Loren got upset and took off.” His hand shot forward in a speeding motion. “Running away is her newest rebellion tactic. At least here I’m not nearly as worried as I was when she did this in Houston. It’s a big part of why we left.”
So many questions tumbled through Sage’s head, most of which were too intrusive to ask this soon. “There’s not too much trouble to get into here, especially in the middle of the day. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“She was hungry, and I’m hoping she only ran as far as the café.”
Not exactly what she was asking, but her curiosity would have to chill along with the rest of her. “Have you called Britt? Maybe she’s heard from Loren.”
His steps faltered and he came to a complete stop, his face showing all the emotion it hadn’t before. “You don’t know?”
Copyright ? 2024 by Margaret Culver