Free Devlin's Grace by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy Page A

Her stomach rejected the coffee and
rolls.   Gracie lingered a few extra
minutes, rinsing out her mouth and splashing her face with cold water.   Good
thing I don’t wear make-up ‘ cause it’d be ruined.
    Gracie
didn’t plan to tell Devlin, but when she came out of the restroom, he
frowned.   When he took her hand, he
leaned over and sniffed.   His nose
must’ve caught the lingering stink of vomit because he asked, “What’s wrong?
Did you get sick?”
    Surprised
at his discernment, she nodded. “It happens sometimes after a wild ride. It’s
no big deal.”
    Devlin
shook his head. “You look pale.   How do
you feel?”
    “Good,”
Gracie said, honest. “I’m okay.”
    Despite
her protests, he insisted she sit on a shady bench and brought her a cool soda
to sip.   He fussed over her and although
she hated to admit it, she liked it.   They lingered for another fifteen or twenty minutes, enjoying the
sunshine filtering through the trees.   As
she watched a lazy yellow leaf drift to the ground, Gracie said, “Let’s go do
something.   I doubt this is much fun for
you, just sitting here hoping I don’t puke again.”
    “I’m
not complaining,” Devlin said.   “I’m not
in a hurry and I like being with my woman.”
    He’d
never called her that before and the words delivered a warm glow to her
heart.   “Let’s go ride Shootout in the
Flooded Mine.”
    “Are
you up to it?”
    She
laughed. “It’s a baby ride.   No thrills
at all.”
    “If
it’s what you want, let’s go.”
    If
he had any qualms about the name or wondered if there was any actual shooting
involved, Devlin didn’t voice them.   Gracie couldn’t remember how long the ride existed, but she knew from
past experience no real shooting happened.   The sound effects were more cartoon than realistic so she didn’t expect
they’d trigger anything.   They shared a
boat and used the laser equipped prop guns to aim at various items through the
indoor ride.   Floating the route, she
decided Devlin must be quite a shot in real life, because he never missed any
of the targets.
    Hunger
replaced her earlier nausea and so they snacked as they strolled.   Vendors offered everything from fried ‘taters
to popcorn and frozen lemonade.   The
kettle corn they bought had a sweeter taste she liked, and they wandered down
to watch the boats on the Lost River of the Ozarks.
    “Do
you want to ride?”
    On
a summer’s day, temperatures in the nineties, she would, but Gracie shook her
head. “I don’t want to get wet and the sign’s right – if we ride it, we’ll be
soaked.   It’s too cool.”
    At
the old time photographer’s studio, she talked Devlin into posing for a tintype
style photo.   He put on the gunslinger’s
outfit she suggested while she dressed up as a saloon girl to stand beside him,
one leg leaning against his chair.   They
stared into the camera with old-fashioned sober faces.   Even before they could pick up the finished
result, Gracie knew she would treasure the picture, the first she had with both
of them.
    They
sat down long enough to hear a traditional music group perform, watched the
glass blower at work, and avoided the other roller coasters.   Gracie wouldn’t have minded riding the
relatively tame Fire in the Hole, an older indoor coaster, but she recalled the
sound effects of an explosion on the final drop and rejected it for Devlin’s
sake.   Everywhere they went, they held
hands or he kept an arm around her shoulders.
    “I’m
hungry,” he announced long after noon. “Let’s find something to eat.”
    Choices
abounded, but they ended up eating barbecued chicken.   After they finished, they rode the carousel
just for kicks.   Gracie heard the high,
thin whistle of the Frisco Silver Dollar and exclaimed, “Oh, I almost forgot
about the train.”
    “How
could you?” Devlin asked. “It’s one of the original attractions.”
    “Let’s
ride it,” she cried.   The train, an old
steam engine