A/N: Hey guys. I'm currently working like a monster to get as much written as I can this month. I find myself enjoying it again, maybe it's because I'm at a particular point in the story, I don't know. But as I am emigrating next month I am trying to do as much as I can before the move, as after that I'm not sure when I'll be back at it. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 30

After a long ride through the forest, a walk by the river with a light picnic for a late lunch and some nice, casual conversation, the couple arrived back at the house some time after four.

They put the horses away in the stable after their long day and Grissom found he had quite a fight on his hands when Dante decided he wanted to be in the same stall as his new lady friend. The threat of nothing but hay for the next week was enough to put the animal back in his place and he sulked into his own stall, kicking the door once before his master snapped it shut.

"Hey!" Grissom half reprimanded, half chuckled, holding a finger up to his horse. "No temper tantrums, my boy, or I'll confine you to your stall for the rest of our stay. Do I make myself clear?"

Stomping his foot, Dante shook his head before turning to face the stall next door. He stuck his nose through the gap in the wood and touched noses with Pandora.

Holding her hand over her mouth, Sara laughed. "I think he's in love."

Looking at her in disbelief, the rancher's mouth dropped open a touch but he found he just couldn't hold in his own amusement and snorted loudly. "That's all I need," he chuckled.

"Is it such a bad thing?" she asked. "Are we not in the breeding business?"

"You mean…" Grissom flicked his finger between Dante and Pandora's stalls. "…these two?"

"Why not?" She stepped forwards and patted Dante on the back. "He is a fine specimen and I couldn't think of a better horse to mate with Pandora."

Dante neighed loudly before stomping his foot again, Pandora joined in with a thump of her own back foot. Sara smiled before looking back to her teacher who was just gawking at her. "What?" she asked.

"This conversation is…um…well…getting a little…odd."

"Is it?" she questioned. "Oh, I didn't realize. I didn't think so. It's obvious these two animals are simply attracted to each other and we can aid their happiness, what more is there to it?"

"You're serious?" he inquired, a slight frown forming on his brow.

"Why not?" she returned.

"Hmmmmm……" he breathed as his frown deepened. "I'll think about it."

"Well," she began, patting Dante one more time before stepping away from the stall, "Don't think about it for too long or she may not want him." That said, she walked away with a sly grin and headed for the open stable door.

As he watched her, his right brow reached for the sky, then his eyes drifted back to his horse, as he, for a final time, stomped his foot to the floor. "I said I'll think about it, alright?"

Bobbing his head, Dante snorted and Grissom shook his head before following after Sara. Stepping out of the door he found that she was waiting for him.

"You know she'll be good for him, don't you?"

"I get it," Grissom said quickly, mockingly holding up his hands.

"Do you?" she replied swiftly and little more assertively than he would have liked.

Finding himself lost for words, he sighed heavily. "Maybe I don't."

Now, there was an awkward silence as they just gazed at each other. Clearing his throat, Grissom decided the day had been too pleasant to spoil over such a silly conversation. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "You are right; she would be good for him."

"Really?" she just about squeaked.

"Yes."

"I think…" she smiled now. "…she will appreciate that and…oh…so…will he."

He licked his lips, placing his hands on his hips and he couldn't quite hide the quaint smirk which arose on his lips. "I'm sure…."

Broadening her smile, she stepped forwards and slipped her arm through his, hooking onto him, startling him somewhat and a secret, heavy swallow slipped down his throat. "It will be dark in several hours," she began, "I think we should maybe get to your trimming while I still have enough daylight to see what I'm doing."

"Oh, well," he stuttered as he felt her warmth radiating through him, "it can wait, it's not a problem."

"Oh no," she disagreed. "I insist, otherwise I have a feeling you will keep changing your mind." Tugging on his arm she smiled. "Come on."

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An uneasy feeling churned through Grissom's gut as they walked into the house. He stepped over to the small dresser by his bed and pulled out a leather bag. He opened it up and handed it to Sara. She looked at the contents as he grabbed a chair and placed it in front of a mirror which hung on the wall just off to the left of the fireplace. Inside the bag was a small box, a shaving brush, a leather strap and a pair of scissors. She opened the box and found it housed a worn but fine looking blade. The handle looked like it was made from some sort of bone.

"I'll, go mix up the cream," he started picking up the shaving brush. "I keep it in the kitchen."

Nodding her agreement Sara placed the bag and blade onto the bed and picked up the leather strap, eyeing it closely. "Oh…" She turned to look at him and he stopped before he reached the kitchen. "…you may want to remove your shirt, unless you…want to get itchy." Picking up the scissors, she grinned as she held them up for him to see, snipping at the air.

"Right…" His response sounded completely uncertain and was almost a whisper. Smiling weakly he slipped into the kitchen and began to unbutton his shirt. After the third button he stopped, placed his palms onto the sideboard, closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Why did he agree to let her do this? He struggled enough when she was close to him, let alone actually touching him. Opening his eyes he urged himself to relax. After all, it was just a shave and a haircut, right? Nothing more. It would be fine. Grabbing a small wooden bowl, the shaving powder and a canister of water, he prepared the cream.

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Walking back into the room with the bowl in his right hand and his shirt in his left he saw Sara sitting on the bed, waiting. She looked up and a chill ran down his spine as she appeared to be ogling his bare upper half, well, apart from the bandages and when she smiled he felt goose bumps form over his flesh. Clearing his throat he dropped the shirt on the bed and handed her the bowl. She took it and stood.

"Ready?" she asked.

"I guess so," he replied a little nervously, fiddling with the locket around his neck. "You have done this before, right?"

"Of course," came her swift reply. "Gregory has utilized my talents many a time."

"Oh, good…" He frowned. "I think."

Snorting softly, she ushered him towards the chair. "Sit, please."

Slipping into the chair in front of the mirror, he felt himself tense, just a little, as he heard the sharpening of his blade along the leather strap but as Sara then placed a towel over his shoulders and tipped his head back a fraction to look at her, he tensed even further.

"Hey, relax," she urged.

Sighing quietly, he shuffled a little and attempted to do as requested.

"Do you, trust me?"

He heard her gentle words and his eyes fell to the mirror to catch hers as she stood behind him, holding up the blade in one hand and the shaving brush in the other.

"If you don't, then I don't have to…"

"I trust you," he said immediately and with complete sincerity.

Smiling bashfully, she set down the razor on the bed and slipped the brush into the bowl of cream before moving to the front of her teacher. "You're sure?" she asked.

"Yes." Was his simple answer and his eyes met hers as her delicate fingers came to rest on his chin and gently pushed his head back.

"The full works or just a trim?" she asked with a slender grin.

"A trim will do just fine," he responded, attempting to recall the last time he was actually clean shaven. He couldn't quite pin point it but it was certainly several years ago.

"Then," She smiled, "A trim it is."

Sitting patiently as Sara brushed the cream over his over growing beard he realized this was the first time a woman had ever shaved him. He was used to the town barber or simply doing it himself but he had to admit, this actually felt nice.

"That's a very nice chain around your neck," she said as she moved from his left cheek to the right. "Where did you get it?"

The rancher's hand reached up to the locket, his finger tips lightly brushing over the silver pendant. "It belonged to my mother. It's…" He paused for a moment and Sara stopped dabbing the cream onto his face and looked at him. "…the only connection to my family I have left."

"You feel it keeps you safe."

Her words, spoken as a statement rather than a question, somewhat startled him, it wasn't quite what he was expecting in response. "How…did you know?" he asked with a frown.

"I'm…not sure." A soft smile graced her lips. "Somehow, I just, did."

Now he smiled.

"Shall I…" she waved the brush through the air. "…continue?"

He nodded. "Please do."

"You know," she started as she brought the brush back to his face, "I don't know much about how you came to The Grove. Father has mentioned a few things here and there but nothing substantial. It would be nice to…" she finished applying the cream and stood back. "…you know, hear your story."

"So inquisitive," he declared with a grin. As he sat with face full of shaving cream, he found himself completely and totally lost about how on earth he was going to deny Sara anything she asked of him, even if it meant revealing his past and his deepest, darkest secrets.

"I just…" she placed the cream down and picked up the blade. "…want to know as much about you as you will offer. I've always been the curious type." A soft pout graced her mouth as her lips twitched.

"I gathered," he returned. "How about I tell you about it during the hair cut rather than when you have a blade at my throat? I feel I probably shouldn't talk during this time."

"Probably a good idea," She half grinned as she stepped forward and once again her fingers found his chin and she tilted his head to the side. "Just relax, alright?"

Closing his eyes he nodded faintly. "I'll try."

Bringing the blade slowly and carefully just below his right ear she began with one, smooth, long stroke.

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After several minutes Grissom felt himself sighing within. Her touch and stroke was masterful yet tender and so far, she hadn't given him a nick. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen at all. He could smell her lovely essence every time she moved a little closer to check her handiwork and goose bumps formed on his skin with every breath he inhaled. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and his glance fell upon her face bearing nothing but a complete look of concentration, her tongue slightly peeking through her lips as she continued. He knew he was in safe hands and now completely relaxed, his eyes closing once more and they didn't reopen until she was finished.

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"There," she announced, pulling the towel from around his neck, "all done."

Grissom's eyes flicked open and they immediately met hers, then the broad smile on her face caught his eye. She handed him the towel.

"I don't think I've done too badly," she said proudly. "What do you think?"

Taking the towel he wiped the tiny bit of remaining cream from his face as he stood and leaned towards the mirror. Working his jaw from left to right he eyed Sara's handy work before rubbing his right hand over his now perfectly trimmed beard, "Just right."

"Yes?" She obviously needed confirmation.

Turning to look at her, "Yes," he responded with a smile, a smile which she quickly replicated.

"I'm so glad."

"Me, too," he sighed, once again rubbing his hand over the shortened stubble.

"Oh," she began, now picking up the scissors, "I meant to ask how your bruises feel." She pointed to his torso with her free hand. "Your eye does look a little better, but how about your stomach?"

"Its fine," he said sitting once more. "Not as sore as it was."

"Will you allow me to take a look…" she stepped back in front of him. "…once I've done your hair?"

"I'm sure that isn't necessary but I do appreciate…"

Cutting in, she didn't give him the opportunity to finish. "I insist."

Snorting through his nose, he licked his lips. "Yes," he hissed, "you have a tendency to do that. Don't you?"

All she offered in return to his question was a cheeky smile.

A tender sigh fell from his lips as he conceded to her once again, "As you wish."

"Good," she retorted swiftly and stepped right up to him. "So, how much would you like me to take off?"

With his right brow rising he looked a little stunned at her question.

"Your hair, Grissom," she said quickly, her cheeks reddening a touch.

"Oh…" he stuttered, clearing his throat and feeling stupid. "…of course, sorry, um, again, just a trim."

"Right, fine," she replied shaking her head a little. "Try and keep still for me, alright?"

"I will."

Bringing the scissors to his hair she began. "So, now you can tell me your story," she encouraged him as she snipped.

Grissom agreed and as Sara trimmed his growing locks he told his story and how he ended up at Providence Grove.

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The rancher's story was finished, his hair was trimmed and his beard was looking perfect. All in all, he was a fine looking specimen of the male species.

As he looked at himself in the mirror once more, Sara couldn't help but ogle him as she sat on the bed.

A sense of pride washed through her that he was actually happy with her work. She was glad he allowed her to do it. Happily, she would do anything for him. She had felt sad when he told her about his parents but the fact he got on with life despite of his loss made her admire him all the more. Grissom was, even if it was with the aid of her father, a self made man and no matter what he said, he was successful, even if he didn't believe that himself.

Fine, he didn't have thousands of dollars but he supported himself and helped others around him. In a man, she couldn't ask for anything more.

The only issue was his continuing reluctance to become close to her. She was certain he was attracted to her. After all, he had admitted it and he'd kissed her, but how was she actually going to get him to let go and take that next step?

That, she didn't know but she wasn't about to give up.

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"Thank you, Sara," he said, spinning around to face her. "Everything is perfect."

"My pleasure," she replied. "So, you will allow me to look at your stomach now?" she then asked.

"If you must."

Standing, she grinned. "Oh, I must."

Stepping up to him, her fingers reached for the knot on the top bandage and gently tugged on it. Slowly and carefully she unraveled the bandages from his body and he watched her every move. Once he was free from his medical confinement he closed his eyes as her soft finger tips lightly brushed over his bruises. Sucking in a heavy breath, he closed his eyes for a moment as her touch made his whole body tingle. When his eyes opened, their gazes met and she was smiling at him.

"They look a little better, are they still very sore?"

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "Not as much as before."

"You promise me?" she asked.

His reply was soft and truthful. "I do."

"Good." Rolling the bandages into a ball she placed them on the bed. "So, we don't need to put these back on then, do we?"

"No," he agreed. "Would you please pass me my shirt?" He pointed to the garment which now lay next to the ball of bandage.

"Sure," she replied swiftly. Picking up the shirt she handed it to him. "There."

"Thank you," he said, taking the shirt. As he was about to put it on, Sara stopped him.

"Wait…" Moving back to him her hand came to his shoulder and gently wiped. Their eyes locked again before Sara blew lightly onto his skin. Shrugging her shoulders and removing her hand, "Just a little hair," she informed him.

"Oh…" Was all he could manage before a weak smile passed over his lips and he slipped his shirt on. "I should clean this up," he suggested, pointing to the trimmings of hair on the floor.

"I can do it," she offered. "But first I need to wash my hands, I feel a little sticky."

"Its fine, Sara," the rancher began. "I can clean up but if you feel in need of refreshment how about that bath? If I start boiling the water now, it will be ready before dark."

Squeezing his arm in appreciation, she smiled. "That is way too much trouble. A nice thought but…"

"I insist."

Her smile broadened. "Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yes, just like you have a habit of insisting." A large smirk appeared on his lips.

"Well," she paused in thought, "it would be nice, I guess, especially after camping last night."

"Then a bath you shall have," he informed her. "And no arguments."

"Just one condition," she cut in.

With a frown crinkling his brow his eyes narrowed a little. "What?"

"You let me help you bring in the water."

"I don't need you to…"

"I insist."

Now he laughed, "Fine."

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After dragging in the copper bath from outside, Grissom and Sara began bringing in buckets of water from the well to boil on the stove. There were only two pans and only enough room on the stove to heat the number of utensils that Grissom owned so it took a little time to boil the water. In between boiling the water Grissom cleaned up the hair from his trim while Sara relaxed out on the porch and enjoyed what was left of the daylight. He also gave the house a little dusting to ensure it was as clean as possible for Sara's stay.

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Darkness was now upon them and as the last of the water boiled Grissom lit several lanterns around the room as well as a couple out on the porch before he moved back into the kitchen.

Pulling the tenth and final steaming hot pan from the stove the rancher lifted the utensil with a grunt and carried it from the kitchen. The water bubbled as he poured the boiling liquid into the bath to join the rest of the water and he sighed contently once the pan was empty.

"There you go," he said to Sara, looking at her as she watched him from her position on the bed across the room. "It's now all yours."

Standing with a grateful smile she walked over to the tub. "Thank you so much."

"Not a problem," he responded smiling back. "Now, while you, um," he hesitated, suddenly getting an image of Sara bathing in his mind, "do whatever it is that you do, I, um, will go and chop more wood. I used most of it in the stove and the nights here can get quite chilly."

"Alright," was all she managed to say before Grissom rushed from the cabin without uttering another word.

Sighing heavily once the door closed behind him, he shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the impure thoughts he was having at that particular moment. It wasn't quite as easy as he thought and he couldn't get Sara out of his mind. He needed to busy himself, take his mind off of her, as much as he possibly could. With haste he grabbed a lantern and rushed towards the barn to collect some wood to chop for the fire.

A/N: Well, hmmmm, how much longer can Grissom hold out? I have a feeling, not long :) Ahhh, but you know me, heheehhe.