A scratch on the bike’s frame made her wince a little. These bikes were expensive. But they were rentals, and wear and tear was going to happen.
“Okay, what’s wrong? I gave you the perfect opportunity to give me a hard time, and you completely passed it up.”
Grace shrugged. “A lot on my mind, I guess.”
Molly stepped inside and grabbed a bike, kicking up the stand. She wheeled it over. “Would it, perhaps, be the same thing that was on Wyatt’s mind earlier? He walked right past the front desk without a word. I don’t think he even saw me.”
“Yeah. Probably the same thing.” She got the bike into the slot and looked at Molly. “Guess I may as well tell you. You’re going to get it out of me anyway.”
“Smart girl.”
So Grace told her sister why Wyatt had come to Bluebell, what Wyatt had been looking for in the mountains, that his mother not only died out there years ago but had been killed. Then she told Molly about the connection between Grace’s abduction and Wyatt’s mom.
Molly gasped. “His mom was Janet Jennings?”
“Yes.”
Molly stared wide-eyed at Grace. “He’s Governor Jennings’s son then. This was his summer home. The same man who tried to abduct you killed his mom?”
“Yes.”
Molly grabbed Grace’s hand. “Oh, honey. Are you all right? That must’ve really thrown you for a loop.”
“Not gonna lie—it kind of freaked me out.”
“Of course it freaked you out! Did Wyatt know who you were the whole time he’s been here?”
“He was as caught off guard as I was. He’d only told me his mother had died up there—not that she’d been murdered. I didn’t put it together until we were at the actual scene of the crime. Molly, he was there when she was killed—just twelve years old. He must’ve felt so helpless.”
Molly placed a hand to her chest. “Oh, the poor dear.”
“He’s had a difficult time finding closure. And when I found out who he was, who his mom was, all I could think was . . . if I hadn’t gotten away his mom would still be alive.”
Molly’s brows drew together as her eyes searched Grace’s. “He didn’t make you feel that way, did he? Grace, that was in no way your fault.”
She thought of those moments in the car earlier, Wyatt’s tender words and gentle touches. He’d been so loving, so careful.
Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered. “Oh, Molly . . . he was so incredibly kind. He was . . . amazing.” His words were too private to share. She wanted to hold them close to her heart and savor them instead.
“Okay, well, good. This whole thing is just so crazy, him coming here and meeting you. Maybe God brought him to this inn—to you—to bring him healing.”
“I think you might be right. He didn’t even have a reservation when he came to town. He just drove by the inn because he wanted to see his old summer house. When he saw it had been turned into an inn, he decided to stay here.” That must’ve taken a great deal of courage. Must’ve stirred up a million memories, both good and bad.
“God at work. That’s so cool.”
It was kind of cool. That God cared so much about both of them. That He took two hurts and spread His healing touch over both of them with one simple stroke.
“So . . . ,” Molly said, “I can’t help but wonder, where does that leave the two of you?”
Grace considered the question, wishing for some miraculous solution to appear. “I don’t know. I guess in the same place we were in before. He has a life somewhere else doing something he loves. And I . . .” She looked around the garage at all the merchandise she’d so lovingly selected. “My dreams are here. I just bought a house, and Bluebell is my home. The thought of moving away from here—it would tear me up inside.” Though losing Wyatt wouldn’t exactly feel great either.
Molly squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“To be honest, Molly, Wyatt’s not the only one who needed closure. I’ve kind of been struggling lately.”
“Struggling how?”
She gave Molly a sheepish look. “I might’ve had a panic attack or two.”
“Grace! Why didn’t you say something? We need to get you to the doctor. Panic attacks are nothing to mess around with, and you probably need to have some blood work—”
“I’ve only had two, and I really think it’s about what I