Read Online Forever Grace by Linda Poitevin - Free Book Online Page A

and she jammed her fingers into the front pockets of her jeans. Then she shook her head. “Of course not. But do you think you should be doing so much?”
    Balancing on his crutches, he twisted to set the pot back on its pad. “I’m supposed to be fending for myself altogether, remember?”
    “And you really think you can do that?” she asked as he teetered.
    “It’s all a matter of practice.” He righted himself with a grin. “Now, how do you take your coffee?”
    “Just black, thanks.”
    He slid a cup across the counter and watched her perch on a stool, head bent and face hidden from him. He sighed. “Look, Grace, I’m not trying to be nosy, but—”
    “She’s in a coma,” she said softly.
    Sean stared at the dark, bowed head, not sure he’d heard right. “I beg your pardon?”
    “My sister. The kids’ mother.” Grace looked up to meet his gaze, her deep chocolate eyes raw with grief. “She’s in a coma.”
    “Jesus,” he breathed. He set his crutches against the counter and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the chipped laminate surface. A glance toward the hallway assured him none of the kids were there. He pitched his voice low anyway. “Grace, I had no idea. I’m sorry. How long?”
    “A little over a month.”
    “Will she—do they—” He didn’t know how to continue. How the hell did one phrase a question like that?
    “They don’t know. There’s minimal brain activity, but they say as long there’s any at all, there’s hope.”
    “Do the kids know?”
    She pressed her lips together. Nodded.
    “So that’s why you’re hiding out here.”
    She flinched, her eyes widening. “H-hiding?”
    “For the kids’ sake. I don’t imagine they’re up to facing school and friends right now.”
    A quick recalibration took place behind her expression—so subtle, he almost missed it. So fast, he didn’t have time to react before she shook her head.
    “No. No, you’re right. They’re not. We don’t talk about it. I think we’re afraid if we do…” She trailed off and looked away, blinking back a sheen of tears.
    Sean reached out to cover her forearm with his hand, pressing gently. “Hey,” he said. “Positive thoughts.”
    Grace sniffled. He nudged her coffee mug closer to her.
    “Drink,” he said. “You’ll feel better. Or at least more awake.”
    She picked up the mug and rewarded him with a watery smile. A little thrill of triumph ran through him. He smiled back, resisting with every fiber of his being the sudden urge to sweep back that dark curtain of hair. Whoa there, McKittrick. Down, boy. He cleared his throat.
    “So, tell me—what can I do to help?”
    Grace’s smile vanished. “What?”
    To be honest, the question had surprised him as much as it had her, but he pushed away his misgivings. It was the human thing to do, after all. Nothing more, nothing less. He shrugged.
    “I mean it. What can I do to help? I know I’m a little laid up at the moment, but there must be something. Color pictures with Sage, entertain Annabelle, read stories.” He gave her his most disarming grin. “I happen to have it on good authority that I do a superior baaa .”
    Grace turned bright red and choked on the coffee. Sean tried to pat her on the back and nearly fell over in the effort, and Grace ended up lunging forward to grab a fistful of his shirt to steady him.
    “ Please don’t fall again,” she said. “I don’t think either my nerves or your cast can take it.”
    “Not to mention the damned leg in the cast.”
    Balance restored, Sean clenched his jaw against the wave of pain following the unexpected movement. He closed his eyes and let his head hang between the outstretched arms clinging to the counter. “Freaking hell, that hurts.”
    “Are you all right?”
    He let out a hiss of air. “I will be. Just give me a sec.”
    He hadn’t taken any of Grace’s codeine tablets this morning, anticipating a return to his own heavier-duty and much-needed medication. Now he