“More than the man she thought he was? Or a different man altogether?”
“I think we all knew different versions of Walter Friar.” Kiley’s shoulders crept to her ears in a shrug. “I knew him as the man who thought of me as his dirty little secret. You knew him as a partner in the arena and a man you once wanted to model yourself after. Maren, Josie, and Carly only knew him as a doting father. I think he was ultimately all of those things—a man with too much pride to admit his wrongdoings, but also someone who had the capacity to love and protect and teach. He was more than just his failings. We all are.”
Looking across the kitchen at the woman who stood before him, it dawned on Grady just how much Kiley had matured, both in unassuming wisdom and in grace. She wasn’t the ditzy blonde that so many had once labeled her back in her teenage years. She was a young mother who, more than anything, longed to be loved and accepted. Though he’d never had romantic feelings for her, Grady had certainly grown to love Kiley like family and hoped she knew that.
“It’s Walter’s loss.” Tiny Colton began opening and closing his mouth, making little smacking noises as he rooted around against Grady’s chest like a baby bird. Kiley took note and rested her coffee mug onto the counter to retrieve her son.
“His loss?”
“Yeah. He missed out on getting to know you. And as someone who’s had the privilege of knowing you for a long while, I have some authority in saying that’s a huge loss.”
Grady secured Dusty to the hitching rail by the Friar’s barn and patted the horse on the rump. His truck would be in the shop for a few days more, so his mode of transportation was limited to the equine variety. Not that he had any issue with that. The weather was favorable and a bale of hay was currently cheaper than a tank of gasoline.
Dust clouds puffed around his boots as he moseyed up the path toward the farmhouse. Pots and pans clinked through the open kitchen window, the soundtrack of Sunday breakfast put together. The chatter of female voices met his ears next. He had to smother the emotion that climbed its way into his being, making him grimace at the reality that one day soon, those walls would never house those sweet voices again. He couldn’t imagine that rustic home belonging to anyone but the four women currently residing in it. It just didn’t feel right, like a shoe placed on the wrong foot.
Squealing on neglected hinges, the screen door yawned open the moment Grady stepped onto the first plank of the porch. Peg filled the frame. Her hands wiped her blue checkered apron and she wore a welcoming smile that eased the edge off of Grady’s mounting apprehension.
“Mornin’, Grady.”
“Morning, ma’am.” He pulled his hat from his head and lowered it to his chest in greeting. “Smells delicious.”
“Kind of you to say, but as I remember it, you’ll eat pretty much anything. I fed you quite often when you were a teenager. Ate more than all the girls put together.” She pressed her spine against the doorjamb to allow Grady to slide through and gave his shoulder a motherly squeeze.
“You’re not wrong there, but it honestly does smell amazing. What are those? Blueberry muffins?”
“Cranberry,” Carly corrected, moving into the dining room with a basket of steaming baked goods in her hands. She rested them in the middle of the large trestle table, right next to a casserole dish filled with scrambled eggs.
Josie came in next with a jug of orange juice. “I told Mama we needed to triple all of our recipes in order to keep your belly full. I swear you’ve got a hollow leg, Cutter. I don’t know where you put all that food.”
When Maren rounded the corner, the anxiety Grady had amassed flew right out the open farmhouse window. Her mouth was lifted into the same affectionate grin that had imprinted on his heart the very first time he’d been on the receiving end of it, back when he was a young boy who could barely tie his own shoes. There was security and reassurance in that beautiful, honest smile. It felt a lot like love written on her face.
“Good morning.” She was at his side in a blink, lifting up on her toes, about to press a kiss to his cheek.
Something low in his stomach flipped like a pancake. “Morning, Mare,” he crooned and swiveled his head fast, smacking a kiss on her lips before her mouth met its intended spot.
A few feet away, Carly giggled as she dropped with a thud into her seat and Grady swore he saw Josie roll her eyes, but the smirk that hung on her lips wasn’t one of jealousy, only approval.
“Okay, lovebirds,” Josie mocked. “Let’s eat before we lose our appetites from all of this sickeningly sweet PDA.” She waved a hand at them with a look of false disgust.
Holding out a chair for Maren, Grady pushed it in once she sat and took the seat directly next to her. Discarding his hat to the empty space on the table to his right, he was about to grab onto his fork and knife to dig in when Peg stretched a hand across the table.
“Grady, would you mind saying grace for us?”
“Not at all, ma’am. Happy to.”
Hat already removed, Grady started right in, giving thanks for the bounty before them, the blessings around them, and the bright future ahead of them. At the amen, hands let go and utensils clinked, dishes lifted as huge scoops were plopped onto their plates. Peg served each hearty portion like they were at a family reunion picnic.
Grady crammed a spoonful of the egg casserole into his mouth and chomped. With the distraction of food now before them, he had to deliberately search for some sort of transition, some timed pause where he could break into the conversation he was really there to have. The breakfast was satisfying and appreciated, but the whole production felt a bit like a ruse.
He forced a shallow cough to clear his throat.
“The girls and I had a long talk last night, Grady,” Peg cut in before the words could dislodge from his mouth. “I know you came here to share something with us, but I can’t tolerate watching you squirm over it any longer.”
“Am I squirming?” he asked in a voice that cracked like a pre-pubescent boy’s.
“A little.” Peg chortled. “And you’re sweating more than a sinner in church.”
Grady grabbed the cloth napkin from his lap and mopped his forehead. “I suppose I am.” He tried to laugh, but it wouldn’t come.
“Let me start by saying that you should know I knew Walt differently than anyone else did. I knew he wasn’t an unflawed man. That he had some dark secrets and a past that he desperately wanted to keep hidden.”
“Are you saying you knew about…?”
“Kiley?” Peg leaned back in her chair and lowered her orange juice glass to the edge of the table. Strings of pulp clung to the sides of the cup. She worried her bottom lip with her front teeth, and aimed her eyes directly at Grady. “No, not Kiley specifically. But I knew there was always the possibility of her. Walt was about as faithful as a stud horse, Grady. I was well aware of that. He’d cheated on me the summer after we were married with the daughter of one of the stock contractors he’d been working for out on the circuit. Back in his bulldogging days. That man had a wandering eye, as well as wandering hands, lips. I wasn’t unaware of that.” She flicked a tear from her cheek with her index finger. “But let me tell you, when those wandering eyes of his did lock in on me, it made me feel like I was the only one he ever saw.”