down beside her.
"That's a great memory, darlin'."
She nodded and rested her head against his shoulder.
"I know. We made lots of good memories before he died, and Mama went crazy. I'm going to have to remember them more."
"We can make us some good memories, too," John said. "But after you lose your raccoon eyes and the staples in your head."
Gracie blinked, burst out laughing, then punched him on the leg.
"Oh, shit. You made me laugh. It hurts to laugh," but she was still smiling.
John sighed. Just when he thought he couldn't love her more, she proved him wrong. Growing old with her was going to be a blast.
The next three days were a blur.
John got Gracie's car to a body shop to have the hail damage repaired.
Donna and the girls sent her flowers—a dozen yellow roses for the girl from Texas. And the next afternoon, a big bouquet of flowers was delivered to her from Edward Rollins, the man she'd saved from choking.
Gracie didn't know there had been video of the rescuers bringing her out of the Wisteria Inn on the news, but he'd seen it and wanted her to know she was in his prayers.
The third day, Donna came by after work with a pie from her favorite bakery. She kept telling Gracie how sorry she was, not to worry about anything but getting well, and that her job would be there for her when she felt like coming back.
John and his crews worked from sunup to quit, just cleaning up storm debris.
Gracie slept, and rested, and Lucy fed her, entertaining her with an ongoing jigsaw puzzle and many hands of Blackjack while they drank endless glasses of sweet tea and Coke and told stories. Lucy talked about her men who'd gotten away, and the ones she'd dumped. To Gracie's delight, Lucy laughed when she admitted to regretting none of it.
John brought them lunch every day and stayed long enough to realize he never wanted to play Poker against Gracie. Her laughter was easy. She was healing from the storm, but she was also healing from what had come before.
He took her home with him every night and held her when the dreams turned bad. She talked in her sleep, revealing way more than she'd told him awake. Crying because they were hungry or cold, or hungry and hot. Crying when the last of the cattle were gone. Crying when her mama didn't remember her anymore. Crying because her siblings had abandoned them.
He was falling deeper in love, and at the same time, realizing how broken she was. The greatest gift he could give her now was time.
On the seventh morning after the storm, John brought Gracie back into Branson and settled her into her apartment for the day.
Gracie was feeling more confident about being alone, but he and Lucy weren't. They hadn't given her a choice. Not until she could at least stand up straight and walk without groaning.
John was just getting ready to leave, and Lucy had yet to arrive. Gracie got her morning Coke out of the refrigerator and he waited for her to settle.
"Gracie, honey, do you need anything before I leave?" John asked.
She paused. "My goodbye kiss."
John grinned. "You were going to get that, anyway," he said, and gently cupped her cheeks before brushing a soft kiss across her mouth.
Gracie sighed as he let her go. "That was exactly what the doctor ordered."
"I can do better when your bruises are gone," John said, and then there was a knock at the door.
"That must be Lucy," Gracie said. "Would you let her in?"
John strode to the door and swung it inward, but it wasn't Lucy. It was a man from FedEx.
"Special Delivery for Gracie Jean Dunham."
"She's here. I'll take it," John said.
"I'm sorry, sir, but she has to sign for it."
"Oh, sure. Hey Gracie, can you come here a sec?"
Gracie came out of the kitchen, a little bent over and walking slow. The messenger's eyes widened when he saw the bruises and the way she was walking.
"I'm so sorry, Miss. I could have come to you if—"
"It's okay," Gracie said. "Just went ten rounds with a tornado, but I'm still standing."
"Jesus! Oh wow. Uh..." Then he held out his delivery scanner and a stylus to sign the screen. "Sign here."
So she did.
He handed her the envelope, gave her one last horrified glance, and took off down the stairs.
Gracie carried it to the sofa to open, pulled out some papers, then frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know... It's from