Chapter 9 - The Horizon
The afternoon light filled the kitchen with a warm, golden haze that made the flour dust floating in the air look like a cloud of tiny stars.
Julian had lost interest in the box and was now tugging at his father’s trouser leg, demanding to be taken outside to see the tide coming in.
“In five minutes, Captain,” Ethan laughed, picking the boy up with one easy motion and swinging him onto his hip.
Grace watched them, her hand resting naturally over her stomach—not with the fearful tension of the past, but with the quiet, grounded certainty of a woman who knew exactly where she stood and who would never let anyone move her again.
“The publisher called from New York this morning,” Grace said, leaning against the counter as she watched Ethan wrestle a laughing Julian back down to the floor. “They want me to do a book tour next spring. Three cities. Boston, Chicago, New York.”
Ethan stopped, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Three cities? That’s at least ten days.”
“Twelve,” Grace corrected with a small, teasing smile. “And I want you and Julian to come with me. All of us. No private jets this time. Just the train across the country, stopping wherever the boy wants to see the cows.”
May you like
Ethan grinned, the last remaining tightness in his face disappearing entirely. He walked over to her, kissed her forehead gently, and then kissed the top of Julian’s head as the boy scrambled past their feet toward the back door.
“Done,” Ethan said. “Every cow between here and Manhattan.”
