Just For A Moment by Kate Carley
Chapter 1
“Find Beck.Cross the railroad tracks. Drive into town. Go to Granddad’s house.” Grace Holland repeated today’s agenda as she scanned the horizon, searching for the Hudson County Airfield.
With every curve in the road, she expected to see the open stretch of space with a few aircraft hangars lining the black ribbon of runway. Soon. It had to be just around the next bend, and if her phone battery hadn’t died ten miles back, she’d know for sure.
According to the lawyer, Grace would find both Aaron’s Aeronautics and her granddad’s good friend, Beck, there. And while Beck wasn’t necessarily expecting her today, he held the packet of information Grace needed to fully understand her granddad’s estate.
Her mom’s share of the estate had been straightforward. She had received the family business—a machine shop that milled aluminum parts for aircraft—along with all monetary assets within her father’s estate. Grace, on the other hand, had inherited her granddad’s house and all his worldly possessions—all being the operative word.
Although not quite a hoarder, Edwin Ross had been a collector of all things related to World War II. From her earliest moments of childhood, Grace had paged through war-related books filled with black and white photos of years gone by. She’d fingered the rough fabric of military uniforms stored in one of the bedroom closets. And when no one had been looking, she’d touched every last piece of military bric-a-brac she could reach. From daggers to ammo belts to military-issued metal mess kits complete with forks and spoons.
Her granddad had collected—with pointed specificity—a little bit of everything related to the war his own father had fought, so she wasn’t expecting to find ten thousand used plastic margarine containers stacked from floor to ceiling in the old cellar under the house. Nor was she expecting years of daily newspapers shoved under every bed like a fire hazard ready to roast the beds’ occupants.
Grace prayed that his focused collecting had continued in a similar pattern as she refocused her attention on the road. With trees on either side obscuring what was ahead, she rounded another slight curve and released a loud sigh. Jittery anticipation filled her at the prospect of returning to her hometown, and all the twists and turns weren’t helping in the least. Oak Bend, Michigan was somewhere around one of these curves.
It had been years since Grace had been back, and now that she’d committed to this, she wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. Was it too late to turn around? She could hire one of those companies to empty the contents of her granddad’s house, sell off everything of value, and donate the rest.
But what about the memories?
No. Grace couldn’t do that. To honor her granddad, she at least had to walk through his home. She had to touch the things that were important to him and the things that had belonged to her grandmother even though Grace had never met her.
This entire adventure today—driving across the railroad tracks, crossing the city limits of Oak Bend, and then stepping into her granddad’s house—all of it was going to be unpleasant, and Grace just wanted all those firsts to be over so she could enjoy her return to Oak Bend.
Grace rounded the next corner, and there it was on the left—the airfield along with a variety of metal shed-like structures meant to store aircraft. Somewhere among those airplane hangars was a business called Aaron’s Aeronautics where she could find Beck.
She turned off the main county highway and onto a gravel road, following the ruts in the makeshift thoroughfare and passing more than a dozen hangars. Like a small town unto itself, the airfield was alive with activity. How could there be so many people in the area that owned their own Cessnas and Beechcrafts?
At the end of the first row of buildings stood an oversized, generic tan hangar with the signage Grace had been looking for. She pulled her car to the side and shifted into park. Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow breath, counted to ten, and released it.
Of all the things she had to do today, this would be the easiest.
Go see Beck.
Grab a document of some sort.
Get the heck out of there.
That was all she needed to do. This was easy. She continued to reassure herself as the distant hum of an approaching aircraft caught her attention and dragged her from her worries. She could tell the aircraft was making its descent, so she slipped out of her car and looked to the east just in time to witness the compact two-seater touching down. Even for the small aircraft, it seemed an impossible feat that what appeared to be the tiniest wheels could handle such an impact as they made contact with the earth.
“Okay, Grace. In and out. You’ve got this. Plus, you’ve got bigger fish to fry today,” she said out loud, giving herself a little pep talk. “All those firsts. This is simple. Let’s get it done.”
With those words, she reached for the door, pulled it open, and stepped inside before she lost her nerve. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but the space was a huge repair shop for aircraft. Just like when bringing her own vehicle in for an oil change, there was the clank as one tool was dropped into a toolbox and the clatter as someone dug around, searching for the next important implement in the repair process. The smell, too, was similar. A slight sent of oil lingered in the air. The physical space within, however, was far larger than her auto mechanic’s shop in order to accommodate the three aircraft inside.
“Hello?” Grace called into the vastness, hoping not to startle the one person she could see. Only the lower half of his body was visible where he stood, working inside the engine compartment of the middle airplane.
“Hey,” a man’s voice called back to her. “Give me just a second here.”
Grace walked past the first airplane, marveling at its sheer size and the fact that this or any other aircraft could ever get off the ground, and moved toward the voice. While she couldn’t quite see the man’s face, she could see his tousled dark brown hair. Head bent, he leaned into the front section of the plane near the propeller. Hopefully, he could quickly direct her to Beck, and she could be on her way.
The man straightened, ducking to avoid hitting his head in a practiced maneuver he’d likely done a thousand times before. He snatched up a rag on his rolling tool cart, wiped his hands, and tossed it back where he’d found it. Then, he directed his attention to her, meeting her gaze with brilliant green eyes.
“How can I help you?”
The timbre of his voice caught Grace off guard. She’d always found men with that rugged, deep tone incredibly attractive. His hair was a bit long, and it scraped at the collar of his blue button-down work shirt. A swoop of hair fell over his forehead and landed just north of his left eye, and he raked it back as he gazed at her expectantly.
“I’m looking for Beck.” Grace stood a little taller and infused her words with a confidence she wasn’t feeling at the moment. But soon she’d be out of here and back to that list of firsts that needed to be accomplished today.
“You’ve come to the right place.” With a friendly grin, the guy took another step forward and stuck out his hand. “Aaron Beckett. Everyone around here calls me Beck.”
This was her granddad’s friend. She’d expected some old coot in his sixties, not someone in his mid-thirties. Not someone who was as attractive as this man in front of her. His well-trimmed facial hair and sharp jawline alone was enough to make most women stop and take note. And he had a natural confidence about him that Grace imagined would make becoming friends easy.
A sense of relief washed over her. She wasn’t sure what she would find when she arrived back in Oak Bend. A pleasant welcome was exactly what Grace needed in this moment, and she couldn’t help but return his smile as she reached for his outstretched hand. “Instead of Aaron’s Aeronautics, you could’ve named the place Beck’s Birds.”
Like his voice, Beck’s laughter was hearty, echoing through the immensity of the hangar and sending an unexpected zing of warmth through Grace’s body directly to that sweet spot between her legs. Her lips parted on an uneven breath. Good Lord, was she panting?
His laughter and the way it made her body respond was something Grace would love to stand around and explore further. But sex with Beck was not on the agenda for today.
Crossing the railroad tracks.
Entering Oak Bend city limits.
Stepping into Granddad’s house.
That was all Grace had time or energy for at the moment.
“Beck, I’ve heard so many great things about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“People been talking?” Beck chuckled again, but he was studying her face, assessing her with those stunning eyes.
“My grandfather, Win Ross. I’m Grace Holland, and he left instructions that I should reach out to you. That you would have something for me.”
Beck tilted his head a bit to the left, a tender expression passing over his face. “Gracie Jane. I figured you’d be stopping by here at some point. I was sorry to hear about Win’s passing. Everyone in town loved him. And I felt blessed to call him my friend. God, I miss him every day.”
“Thanks for saying that, Beck. I miss him, too. And it’s just Grace now. I think my granddad was the only one still calling me Gracie Jane.”
“He did.” Beck nodded. “He talked about his granddaughter all the time. He was so proud of you and how you started that company of your own.”
As he spoke about her granddad, Beck’s eyes softened and his voice warmed. Talking about the most important man in her life with someone she’d just met felt bittersweet. But according to her granddad, Beck was one of his dearest friends.
“I remember how proud he was when I told him about my new business venture.”
“A website design business. What’s it called again?”
“Holland Designs.”
“Right.” He bobbed his head. “Win said you had more work than you could do in a lifetime.”
“That sounds about right.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the memorial. I searched for information but never found anything.”
Grace bit her lower lip and then shook her head. The memorial had been a point of contention between her and her mother. “There wasn’t one.”
“Yeah, he always said he didn’t want anything like that, but I wondered if his family would have one anyway.”
“No. My mom and I…We just wanted to do exactly what he wanted.” Grace’s mother had an entirely different interpretation of what Edwin Ross had wanted. “And his wish was to not have people standing around, staring at him.”
Beck chuckled softly. “I remember Win saying that.”
Several unpleasant tasks still remained to be accomplished today, and they dampened the joy Grace generally experienced reminiscing about her granddad. “My granddad left something here for me. Do you have that?”
“Right.” Beck pointed toward the corner of the enormous hangar. “It’s in my office.”
With quickened steps, Grace kept pace beside Beck. “This place wasn’t here before. I mean, when I used to live here, there was the airstrip, but there weren’t many hangars. Maybe two or three.”
“It’s become a thing. Owning a plane. Faster than the ferry if you’re crossing Lake Michigan. Lots of people around the county can afford it. And none of the other towns in the area have an airstrip.”
Stopping at the door to his office, Grace watched while Aaron walked to his desk and lifted a heavy-looking silver paperweight shaped like an airplane. He plucked a key from underneath and went to a tall wooden cabinet in the corner. With a twist of his wrist, he unlocked the door. From her position outside his office, she could see the small black safe. He entered a code, and the door swung opened. Shifting the contents around, he produced a manilla envelope. Then, Beck reversed his steps until he was standing in front of her again, presenting her with the envelope.
The strained expression on his face was exactly how Grace’s heart felt in the moment. A deep ache—one of loneliness and sorrow—created by the loss of a precious soul. Slowly, she reached for the envelope.
“Thank you, Beck. Thank you for keeping my granddad’s wishes safe for him. For me.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Beck pinched his lips together and glanced around before meeting her eyes again. “So, are you ready for your tour?”
“Tour? Now? No.” Grace shook her head, fighting a choking feeling at the back of her throat. A tour—wasting time, wandering around—wasn’t part of her plans for today. Not even for a few minutes. “No. I don’t need a tour. But thanks for this.” She lifted the envelope to indicated she had all she needed at the moment.
Again, he tilted his head the slightest bit to the left and then gave a gruff grunt.
“Suit yourself,” he said. Like a switch had been flipped, his tone turned dark and sarcastic, and Grace had no idea why. “See ya around, Gracie Jane.” Without another word, he headed back to the plane he’d been working before she’d interrupted him.
* * *
“Suit yourself?”Grace slipped behind the wheel of her crossover and tossed the envelope from Beck onto the passenger seat.
“Suit yourself.” She let the words fall from her lips with the same snide tone Beck had used. She’d always hated that kind of flippant statement. Kind of like, ‘Good for you,’ said with that sarcastic attitude. He might as well have said, ‘Whatever.’ And then rolled his eyes.
In Grace’s opinion, adults should be able to say something more mature. More complete. More thoughtful.
But that wasn’t the crux of it. Win had been the most thoughtful man on the planet. And for some insane reason, she’d assumed that the man he’d been friends with would also be thoughtful—at least while dealing with her. And oddly enough, he had been at first. Beck had offered his condolences. He’d spoken of his interactions with Win. From the way he spoke, it was apparent that he was quite fond of her granddad.
But then, like flipping off a light switch, all the warmth in Beck’s voice had disappeared, and his attitude had turned brisk and callous. And that sizzle of attraction? Yeah, that had disappeared, too.
All fine with her, because life was a lot easier if her libido wasn’t egging her on. Right now, she shouldn’t get involved with anyone—especially not Beck. Because first, it hadn’t been that long since she broke up with her old boyfriend. Grace had been in love, and Jeremy hadn’t even been committed enough to stay out of another woman’s bed. And second, she wasn’t sure what her future in Oak Bend held.
With the intention of staying on permanently, Grace planned to set up her home office in her granddad’s library. She loved that room. But if what her parents always said was true—her heart could never handle that—then she wouldn’t be staying long. No need to pursue a relationship at this point.
Geez, she hadn’t even crossed the railroad tracks into town yet. What if she had a nervous breakdown stepping into Granddad’s front entryway. There were just too many unknowns to even consider the way her body had tingled when she’d first caught sight of Aaron Beckett.
And third, as if she needed any other reasons to avoid this guy, Grace had a strict dating policy. If a guy wasn’t nice, she couldn’t date him. Logical. Practical. A rule all parents agreed with, and a rule all wise women should follow.
There. Three reasons she should get her mind off Aaron Beckett.
Grace’s mind always worked better if she had three reasons.
She shoved the key into the ignition and revved the engine harder than necessary. With a quick K-maneuver to reverse directions, she sped back to the main road, turning left toward town. The road curved once, and then Grace spotted the signage for the railroad tracks.
The unmistakable X across a bright yellow sign. The crossing arms that moved up and down, and the signal lights that flashed when a train was coming.
Clear as day.
How could anyone miss that?
Grace held her breath as she neared the deadly crossing, scanning the horizon and the land on either side, listening for the tell-tale sounds of an oncoming train. And then, with an almost insignificant bump, she went over the tracks and came down on the other side. She let out a small cry of success. For more than sixteen years, she hadn’t crossed that spot where Caroline had died. But Grace made it, and she’d survived.
It hadn’t been as hard as she’d imagined. In her mind, over the years, she’d built it up as an impossible feat. And of course, her parents had chimed in heavily about how much they hated the idea of going over the railroad crossing in the weeks and months after Caroline’s death. How they couldn’t keep doing it, so they’d moved away. To get away from the horrible memories and the people who’d refused to allow them to forget the past.
Grace set her eyes on the Welcome to Oak Bend sign. There was something about it that was indeed welcoming. It was warm and comforting in a way she hadn’t expected. While the sign was a bit faded and weathered, it was the same old sign from her childhood.
She drove along the main street in town with its quaint little shops to the town square and then turned right onto Oregon Street. One block down, on the corner of Oregon and Montana, stood the stately Victorian that had been in her family for more than a century. Her great-great-grandfather had started building it in the late 1800s, and it was still a gorgeous, well-maintained example of the period’s architecture.
She pulled into the driveway, turned off the engine, and sat admiring the house. Her house. As a child, she’d adored this place. And now it belonged to her.
Grace was finally home.