Free The Rancher's Second Chance (Martin's Crossing Book 3) by Brenda Minton Page B

her emotions. She had a little person who needed her to focus on the future. To do that she couldn’t become distracted.
    It would be easier if Brody was a stranger to her, and not the man whose secrets she knew and kept. Because there was a side of Brody that no one understood. Yes, he was charming. He played the part of the wild cowboy. But he was the furthest thing from that person he portrayed himself to be.
    Deep down, Brody Martin was good, with faith and convictions that kept him grounded, and able to step away from entanglements that would cause him to stumble and forget himself and his faith.
    When she came out of her room ready for church, Brody was sleeping on the couch. For the second time in two days. She sat on the coffee table and reached for his hand, but she stopped herself. Instead, she sat there, torn between waking him for church and letting him sleep.
    His eyes opened and he blinked a few times, clearing the hazy, sleepy look. “I fell asleep.”
    “Yes, you did.”
    He sat up, sighing. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”
    Neither had she, but probably for different reasons. “We should go. It’s almost ten o’clock.”
    “If you want we can leave my truck and walk down the street to church.”
    “That would be good. I could use some fresh air.”
    They headed down the sidewalk in the direction of the church that sat on several acres at the end of Main Street. The morning was warm and the sun was bright. Maybe walking hadn’t been such a great idea. The heat made her a little nauseated, and her steps slowed as they walked the short distance to the Martin’s Crossing Community Church.
    “Are you okay?”
    “A little sick, but it’ll pass.”
    Taking her hand, Brody led her across the street to a small green area with a fountain and a few benches. “Let’s take a break.”
    “I don’t want to be late for church.”
    “If we’re late, we’re late. If you pass out, we won’t make it at all.”
    “Passing out isn’t on my to-do list.” She sat on the bench and he sat next to her.
    “When was your last doctor’s appointment?” he asked.
    “I’ve only had one appointment. I need to find a doctor. I just thought I would wait until I got home to Forth Worth.”
    “Maybe you shouldn’t wait.”
    She shrugged off the suggestions. “I’m not having any problems. I just had a little nausea and lightheadedness from the heat.”
    “I’m not an expert here, Grace, but I think the standard thing is a monthly visit to the doctor, right?”
    “Yes,” she admitted.
    “If you need me to go with you, I can. If you don’t want me to go, I’m sure Oregon would.”
    The church bells began to ring and Grace watched as latecomers ran up the steps and into the church. It was a pretty building, classic in design with a vestibule at the front, a tall steeple with a bell tower and stained glass windows. She didn’t compare it to her grandfather’s church, all glass and stone, and covering several city blocks.
    Brody stood, his hand absently going to the chain on his neck before reaching for her hand. She smiled at the habit of reaching for the cross on that chain. She took his hand and stood, carefully, waiting to see if the sickness had passed. It had, and she prayed it wouldn’t return.
    They approached the pretty little building that had been the center of the community since the beginning of the town’s history. It had been added on to over the years, she’d learned from Lefty Mueller, but the stained glass windows, the bell tower and the woodwork were original.
    When they entered the church the congregation was standing for the opening hymn. Brody led her to a pew where Jake sat with his wife, Breezy, and Duke, Oregon and their daughter, Lilly. The two of them squeezed in next to Lilly.
    People stared. She’d known they would. But they weren’t cataloguing her sins. She knew that, even as heat rushed to her face. They were watching because they knew Brody and she was at his side.