Grace

by Cheryl Wright

  After the meat was carved, Joe carried it to the table, then returned for the vegetable platter. Grace carried the gravy boat and the plates.

  It really did smell delicious. Joe was right – she even surprised herself.

  She was about to sit down but jumped up again. “Oh! I need to check the apple pie.”

  He grabbed her hand as she walked past. “You really are spoiling me, Grace,” he said softly, then let go of her hand. He seemed reluctant to do so.

  Tonight had been overwhelming already, and it had only just begun. She needed to distance herself from this charismatic man she felt attracted to.

  She had long made the decision to be a spinster. Grace wanted a career, her own business. She didn’t want to be tied down by a husband and family. She’d made that abundantly clear to her father when he’d told her that was exactly what she would be doing.

  He was going to make certain of it. She put a stop to his plans by running away the very next day.

  She pulled the apple pie out of the oven and put it aside to cool, then returned to her visitor.

  His eyes were on her as she entered the dining room. The moment she sat down, he reached across for her hands.

  “Shall we say a prayer of thanks for our food?” he asked quietly.

  Grace felt ashamed. She should have realized his intention, but instead thought he had other plans. Not that she would have complained. Not really. She liked it when he touched her.

  A shiver went down her spine, and a feeling that she’d never had before entered her whole being. She wasn’t sure what any of it meant.

  “Please help yourself before the food goes cold,” she said when he’d finished speaking.

  He began to place food on her plate before his own, and Grace felt humbled. Never before had she seen such a thing. Her father had always served himself first, leaving the leftovers for the women.

  She assumed that was normal, but now wondered if she was wrong.

  “That is far too much,” she said, holding her hand up for him to stop. “I cannot eat anywhere near that amount.”

  He studied her. “You are far too thin. I think I should fatten you up.” He laughed as he said the words, so she took it as a joke.

  Joe was very different than what she’d seen before. Perhaps he was more relaxed away from work? Whatever it was, she liked this version of Joe.

  She liked the tailor version too, but this one seemed far happier.

  He placed two large potatoes on her plate, along with two carrots and some beans. “Enough, please,” she said, exasperated. “I simply cannot eat this much food.”

  She began to remove some of food and he frowned. “I’m not a big eater, I never have been,” she said. “But please, help yourself and pile it up. I’d hate for the leftovers to go to waste.”

  She poured gravy onto her plate, then offered the gravy boat to Joe. She hoped it tasted fine. Of course the night she has a guest has to be the night she messes it up.

  Grace sighed.

  “It tastes as delicious as it smells,” he said, taking a mouthful. “The gravy is perfect too,” he said, pulling a face.

  She inwardly groaned. It was horrible. The gravy tasted horrid.

  She gingerly tasted it. “That was an awful trick you played,” she said, pouting. Her gravy was perfect, like the rest of the meal.

  He grinned slowly. “I just wanted to stir you up. No one should be so perfect as you.” He stared into her eyes, and Grace fought to pull her gaze away, but couldn’t.

  His hand slid across the table, and gently covered hers. Grace wasn’t sure if she should pull it away, or enjoy the warmth of it.

  She finally found the fortitude to look away, and glanced down at their entwined hands. “Joe...”

  He snatched his hand away. “You’re right,” he said, looking thoroughly guilty. “I shouldn’t presume. It won’t happen again.”

  She nodded and they both went back to their food. The incident was not mentioned again.

  Joe lifted the napkin to his lips and Grace watched his every move. “The meal was delicious, Grace. Thank you for inviting me tonight.” He placed the napkin on the table, and began to stand. “But I suspect you hadn’t intended to ask me.”

  “I, er,”

  He waved his hands about. “It doesn’t matter. I think we both enjoyed the evening. Would you like to go for a stroll?”

  He glanced at the pile of soiled dishes. “After I help you clean up this mess, of course.”

  “I would enjoy a stroll. I can tackle these later.”

  But he would have none of it. “You have been the perfect hostess. Now I shall be the perfect guest.” He didn’t wait for an answer but poured boiling water into the sink.

  Joe rolled up his sleeves and got right into it. The sooner they cleaned up, the sooner he would have the amazing Grace Sunderland on his arm. Her warmth would pour into him, and he would feel whole again.

  He closed his eyes. He had to stop having these fantasies about Grace. They had become friends and business acquaintances, and that was the way it should stay.

  Besides, he was far from interested in finding a wife.

  There was a time he was interested in Emily Stanton, but he had hesitated and she had instead married Patrick Harper. He was over that now. He’d decided it was an infatuation – they’d attended school together, and had spent a lot of time together.

  Now that Emily was taken, marriage was totally off his agenda.

  But it was nice having Grace around, even if marriage was not on either of their minds.

  As Joe passed over the clean dishes, Grace dried them and put them away. Her little kitchen was almost back to normal. Soon they could embark on their stroll around town.

  “Tell me,” Joe said as they entered the main street. “What are your long-term plans?”

  She frowned as she turned to face him. “Long-term? My store is my long-term plan.” She looked forward again.

  Surely that couldn’t be it? She must have other plans for her future? “You don’t want to expand your business? Take on staff?” He turned to look at her then. “Find a wonderful man to marry?”

  He grinned at her, but she didn’t find it funny. In fact, she snatched her arm away. “What are you suggesting, Mr Harkley?” She stepped back and scowled at him.

  “I, I’m suggesting nothing, Grace,” he said, wondering what happened to her calling him Joe. His insolence was probably the cause of that. “I was being silly. Trying to get a reaction from you.”

  She put her hands to her hips. “Well you certainly got that.” She hooked her arm through his again, and they continued their walk. “And just so you know, I have no intention of getting married.”

  He stared at her. “Not ever?”

  “I decided a long time ago to be a spinster. So no, not ever.”

  A headache was starting to develop. Why would such a charming woman make a ridiculous decision like that?

  There was only one reason it could be – she’d had her heart broken.

  “What was his name,” he asked gently.

  “What? Who?” Now she looked totally confused.

  “The man who broke your heart. What was his name?”

  She stopped walking again and stared at him. Then she scowled. And finally she laughed. “You really have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, then reached over and patted his hand.

  Warmth flooded him.

  “I have never been courted, nor do I wish to be.” This time she pouted.

  Never been courted? Well that was just crazy.

  In that moment, Joe made it his mission to court the captivating Miss Grace Sunderland.

  Chapter Five

  Joe collected Grace for church, ensuring he was there before she left home. There was no coffee and biscuits this morning due to the picnic.

  Everyone would be rushing about to prepare their picnic luncheon. Joe had theirs ready, as he told Grace he would.

  He gingerly knocked on the do
or, not wanting to rush her, but eager to spend time with her.

  The door was flung open, and there stood Grace, resplendent in a fresh gown and a pretty bonnet on her head.

  His eyes scanned her from head to toe. “You look nice.” He could have kicked himself. She looked more than nice, she was beautiful no matter what she wore.

  She could be in tatters for all he cared – she would still be spectacular in his eyes.

  She smiled. “Thank you. I didn’t want to wear my Sunday best to the picnic. Oh, but you have.” She stared at him in dismay. “Should I go and change?”

  She stepped aside for him to enter. “I have more than one suit, Grace. If this one is ruined, I can always ask the town tailor to make me another.” He winked at her.

  That made her smile. He liked it when she smiled, which was nowhere near enough. She grabbed up her reticule and was about to step out of the house when she turned back.

  “I almost forgot,” she said, taking up a container. “Blueberry muffins – my contribution to the picnic.” She pulled a face. “Goodness knows what they taste like, but at least I tried.”

  He was trying too. Trying to get this young woman enamoured to him. The more time he spent with her, the more fond of her he became.

  They wandered down to the livery where Joe had arranged for a buggy. He had once considered buying his own, but for the little use it got, it hadn’t been worth the expense. If his courtship with Grace worked out, he may reconsider.

  Young Charlie was there today – his father never worked on weekends, in fact rarely worked at all these days – and had the buggy ready. Joe placed the picnic basket, blanket, and the container of muffins in the back, then held Grace by the waist, ready to lift her onto the buggy.

  The moment he touched her was one he would never forget. Shivers went down his spine and he stood gazing into her eyes.

  She frowned. “Joe, is everything alright?”

  She had no idea how much her presence moved him. How much her laughter thrilled him, or how much her touch meant to him.

  No, he wasn’t alright. He was far from alright, as had been the case since the moment Grace Sunderland had entered his life.

  He continued to stare at her, continued to hold her by her dainty waist. Then he did the worst thing he could have possibly done – he gazed at her lips.

  “You need help, Mr Harkley?” Charlie’s voice shattered all thought of kissing Grace, and Joe knew it had been for the best.

  One day he would kiss the lovely Grace, but it wouldn’t be here in the livery, amongst the dirt with the horses and their excrement. That would just be too...crass.

  Grace deserved better than that.

  He glanced across at the teenager, then reached into his pocket. “Here’s a little something for you, Charlie,” he said quietly. “Not for your father – this is for you.”

  Charlie’s face lit up. Everyone knew Charlie had a hard life. He was treated little better than a slave to his scandalous father, and everyone tried to help him in whatever way they could. “Put it aside for your future, Charlie.”

  Charlie nodded, but Joe doubted he would build a nest egg. One of these days Bart Smith would keel over and die from the sheer amount of alcohol he consumed.

  The man was brutal, but young Charlie was not so young anymore, nor was he a boy any longer. He was almost a grown man. Rumor had it that Charlie had already begun to fight back and had protected his mother on more than one occasion.

  Joe had a real respect for him.

  He glanced at Grace again. She waited patiently, more patiently than he would have been. Finally he lifted her onto the buggy fighting back thoughts of how good if felt to hold her.

  Joe walked to the other side of the buggy and climbed up, then flicked the reins to get the horse moving.

  The seat of the buggy was not large, and they were forced to sit close together. Joe didn’t complain. He relished the feel of Grace next to him, and if he was truthful, had been looking forward to it all week.

  “How many people will be at the picnic?”

  Her words brought him out of his revelry. He glanced across at her and the act of merely gazing at her sent his senses into free-fall. “Most of the parishioners attend the picnic. It’s a big event.”

  “Oh. How many have you attended?”

  He kept his face forward this time, needing to concentrate on what he was doing. “I’ve been to most of them.”

  She didn’t say anything for a moment, but he could feel her gaze on him. She eventually spoke. “I’ve never been to a church picnic. Father wouldn’t allow it.”

  What sort of man was this father of hers? Grace had told her a little about him, especially how he’d tried to force her to marry despite her objections.

  The man sounded like a brute.

  At least she was able to avoid his clutches. They wouldn’t have met if she hadn’t.

  “We’re almost there,” he said, trying to change the subject from that of sadness, to something far happier.

  The picnic was always held in the same place – in a clearing not far from the Mississippi River, about half an hour out of town by buggy, less by horse.

  They didn’t picnic close to the river because of the children, but anyone who wanted to could wander down later.

  Joe pulled the horse to a slow trot, then parked the buggy behind all the other wagons and buggies.

  This was traditionally a day for families, and Grace felt like family to him. He hoped she felt the same.

  He helped her down and steadied her before letting go. Her hands held his arms, as though she was afraid she’d fall. He stared down at them.

  “I won’t let you fall, Grace,” he said firmly.

  “Of course not,” she replied. “I feel safe when I’m around you.”

  His heart thudded. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions but...

  She licked her lips, and he reached for her again, pulling her close. “Grace.”

  His words disappeared from his lips when he brushed them across hers.

  Her eyes opened wide, but then closed gently, and she leaned into him. But only for a moment. It was as though she suddenly realized where she was. Or perhaps what she was doing.

  She shook herself and stepped out of his arms. “We should join the others,” she said abruptly.

  He’d pushed her too hard. Moved too quickly, and now... had he lost her? He felt hollow, as though he’d lost something precious that meant the world to him.

  In reality, he absolutely had.

  Grace went to the back of the buggy and reached for the blanket and muffins. She couldn’t quite reach them.

  “Here, let me.”

  Joe’s nearness sent a tingle through her. What was it about this man that sent her nerve endings on edge?

  When he’d pulled her close against him, she was certain she would faint, she was so excited. And when his lips brushed hers, her heart pounded. She could even hear it in her head.

  Was that normal? Did kissing a man cause that to happen?

  She wasn’t sure if she had been elated or just plain scared.

  Once her head cleared and she’d understood what was happening, she’d pulled back. It might have felt nice, and although he set her heart alight, she was not interested in being courted.

  She’d told him that – in no uncertain terms – so why did he continue to pursue her?

  “Grace! Oh, Grace!” She looked up to see Mrs Baker waving to her, Mrs Davis by her side. Joe mumbled something behind her, but she couldn’t make out the words, though she could probably guess.

  She waved back.

  Looking past Mrs Baker she could see a whole heap of people gathered in the area. They made their way to the picnic area, and she looked about. “This is lovely,” she said to Joe, as she clutched his arm.

  She felt a little apprehensive. After all, she’d never been here before, and truth be told, if she needed to leave by herself for some reason, she would be stuck.

  But Jo
e was a gentleman. He would never abandon her. Not here or anywhere.

  “This looks like a good place to put down our blanket,” he said, placing the basket down on the ground and taking the blanket from her hands.

  He flicked it open and she sat down. It seemed comfortable enough, but she had no intention of sitting here all day.

  She looked up at her escort who was still standing. “Could we go for a walk later?”

  “Of course,” he said, a smile forming on his mouth. “Would you like to see the Mississippi River? It’s through that stand of trees.”

  He pointed and she could just make out water in the distance.

  The voices of children playing drifted into her ears and Grace glanced in the opposite direction. A group of young children were playing Ring a Roses, their mothers close by.

  It was nice, this picnic day. She’d had no idea it was like this, and had assumed people just sat around eating then went home.

  As apprehensive as she’d been, Grace was pleased Joe had asked her along. She was enjoying being part of a community. She’d never really done that before, but now that she was, it felt good.

  Joe grabbed both her hands and pulled her onto her feet. “We have time to go for a quick walk now. Not to the river, but into the forest a bit.”

  She stared up into his eyes. She’d noticed his blue eyes before, of course, but today she studied them. They were the most striking blue she’d ever seen, and they pierced through to her very soul.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, startling her.

  She chewed at her bottom lip. “Nothing.”

  He laughed. “Is it so bad you can’t tell me?”

  “It’s your eyes,” she said quietly. “The blue is so striking – I haven’t really noticed them before.”

  He studied her. “Your eyes are so brown, and I most definitely have noticed them before.” He pulled her close. “I’ve noticed everything about you – how could I not?”

  She wasn’t sure what she should say to that, so pulled away. “What are you trying to say, Joe? I thought we were just friends?”

  He stared into her eyes, then his eyes moved down to her mouth. “We are far from friends in my mind.” He lifted his hand to her cheek and caressed it. “At least that’s how I wished it was.”