When Grace Sings

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Alexa decided it was best to ignore the girl’s theatrics. “Mr. and Mrs. Kirkley, your room has its own bathroom, but the room for Nicole has to share the bathroom with another room. Would you mind letting her come in and use your bathroom since I already have a guest”—technically, Anna—Grace wasn’t a guest, but the Kirkleys didn’t need to know everything—“making use of the shared bath? She’d probably feel more comfortable sharing with you than with a stranger.”

  Nicole made another sour face, but the adults nodded in agreement.

  “Thank you.” Alexa inched toward the staircase. “If you’d like to join my grandmother and our other guest in the dining room, we’ve got cookies and tea.” She looked at Nicole. Despite her trendy, mussed-looking haircut and abundance of oversized jewelry, Alexa guessed her to be around twelve or thirteen. “Or milk, if you’d prefer.” The girl rolled her eyes. Alexa almost mimicked her. “Make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll let you know when the room is ready.”

  “Come with me.” Grandmother led the way, and the Kirkleys followed her.

  Mr. Plett approached Alexa and lowered his voice. “I didn’t mean to cause you trouble. If you want me to, I’ll tell them it won’t work for them to stay here.”

  Alexa smiled, hoping to reassure the man. “It’s fine. That’s what I’m here for—to provide a retreat for travelers.”

  He nodded. “All right then. Thank you for making them welcome. I’ll come out tomorrow morning and check on them. Good night now.”

  She closed the door behind him, then darted upstairs. Within twenty minutes she’d finished remaking the bed, performed a quick dusting and sweeping, and transferred the clothes to Anna—Grace’s room. She hurried back to the dining room to let the Kirkleys know their rooms were ready. Surely by now Grandmother was ready to wring Nicole’s skinny little neck. Old Order children were taught better manners than this one seemed to possess.

  Soft chatter—lighthearted, relaxed—greeted her as she rounded the corner from the staircase. As she drew closer, she realized the one doing the talking was the Kirkleys’ daughter. She stopped in the doorway rather than interrupting so she wouldn’t chase the smile from the girl’s face.

  “… long shot, but Mom and Daddy said if it’s what I really want, then they’ll help me as much as they can.”

  Steven said, “You’re lucky to have a mom and dad who support your dreams. I hope you let them know how much you appreciate it.”

  Nicole hunched her shoulders and flicked a sheepish glance at her parents. “Probably not as much as I should. But I am thankful.”

  Grandmother looked up and spotted Alexa. She waved her into the room. “Nicole here was telling what she and her folks are doing on the road. There’s a talent contest in Branson, Missouri, and she’s going to compete. She sings and plays guitar.”

  “Is that right?” Alexa moved to an empty chair and sat. Anna—Grace offered her the cookie plate, but she shook her head. “What do you sing, Nicole?”

  “Country-western tunes mostly, but sometimes I add a little bit of pop.” She tossed her head, sending her floppy bangs away from her dark black eyelashes. She must have used an entire bottle of mascara to get her lashes that thick and gloppy. “Depends on the audience.”

  Her eyes wide, Anna—Grace leaned toward Alexa. “She’s been performing since she was six years old. She even sang ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ at a professional football game.”

  “Not the pros, just college play-offs,” Nicole corrected.

  “Even so, with all those people in the stadium?” Anna—Grace shook her head. “I would have been scared to death.”

  Nicole shrugged. “You get used to it.” Her eyebrows rose. “Wanna hear a song? I didn’t get a chance to practice this afternoon.” She didn’t wait for a reply but scampered to the front room and retrieved her guitar. She slung the strap around her neck and stood at the head of the table. “You all are religious people, so I’ll sing ‘Jesus, Take the Wheel.’ It’s a country song, but it’s kind of religious.”

  Without further preamble Nicole positioned her fingers on the strings and broke into song. For someone so young she had a strong, sure voice. Alexa didn’t know a great deal about music, but she knew a pleasant sound when she heard it. She joined the others in enthusiastic applause when the girl finished.

  Nicole beamed a smile across the group. “Thanks.” Then she sighed. “I hope our car gets fixed fast so we can get to the competition. I don’t want to miss it. Agents and producers come to these things. It could be my big break.”

  “Well, we will pray you make it on time if you’re meant to be there,” Grandmother said.

  The girl turned a scowl in Grandmother’s direction. “What do you mean, ‘if’?”

  Grandmother chuckled. “What I mean is you have a gift, just as Alexa here has a gift for cooking. When God gives people gifts, He has a special purpose for the gift. If your purpose is to become a performer, the way you said you want, then God will make it happen for you.”

  Nicole stared at Grandmother as if she’d lost her senses. “But—”

  Mr. Kirkley pushed away from the table. “Since our rooms are ready, I think we’ll turn in.”

  His wife also rose. “Yes. It’s been a very long day.”

  Alexa rose. “I’ll take you up.” She carried Mrs. Kirkley’s suitcase and led the family to the upstairs bedrooms.

  Nicole bounced on the edge of the bed, then flopped backward across the mattress. Alexa hoped she wouldn’t pop any of the careful hand stitches on the patchwork quilt. The girl raised one hand as if conceding defeat. “This’ll do. Close the door, Mom.”

  Mrs. Kirkley pulled her daughter’s door shut and then turned a weary smile on Alexa. “Thank you for the refreshments this evening and for opening the rooms to us. We appreciate it.”

  Alexa smiled. “You’re very welcome. Breakfast at seven thirty?”

  The adults exchanged a look. Mrs. Kirkley said, “How about eight thirty?”

  She’d have to fix two batches—Steven and Briley ate earlier—but she nodded. “That’s fine. Do you have any food allergies?”

  “Kathy and I are vegetarians, and Nicole is a vegan,” Mr. Kirkley said.

  Alexa would have to do some quick research before she cooked breakfast. “Okay. Well …” She inched toward the stairway opening. “If you need anything, just knock on this door.” She pointed to the door of the Ruth 2:10.

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Good night.” Mrs. Kirkley ushered her husband into their room and closed their door.

  Alexa started down the stairs, and she met Anna—Grace who was coming up. The other girl offered her a sympathetic grimace and spoke in a near whisper. “Aunt Abigail said you moved your things into the room you gave me. I’m sorry you got ousted from your room.”

  “It’s okay. It’ll probably just be one night. I’m sorry I had to invade your space.”

  “It’s no invasion.” Anna—Grace’s smile grew hopeful. “It’ll give us a chance to really talk. Get to know each other better. I’d like that.”

  Why did Anna—Grace always have to be so nice? Under other circumstances the two of them would probably be great friends. But trying to keep secret Anna—Grace’s parentage left Alexa on edge. Being overly friendly would lead to spilling things she wasn’t supposed to spill. She didn’t know how to respond.

  The girl’s smile faded. “Or … if you’d rather, I can take my things to Sandra’s in the morning.”

  Say something! “You don’t need to do that. As I said, they’ll probably be here only one night. I’ll be back in my own room tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Anna—Grace lifted her foot to the next riser but didn’t climb the stairs. “Steven went home. I feel so bad for him, sleeping on a mattress on the floor and having to use an outhouse. He bathes in the barn!” She cringed. “I wish he could stay here once a room is available. I asked Aunt Abigail, and she didn’t say no, but I could tell she had apprehensions.”

  The do
or to Nicole’s room flew open. The girl pounded across the landing on bare feet and banged her fist on her parents’ door. “Mom! I need to brush my teeth!” They let her in.

  When it was quiet again, Alexa spoke. “She’s probably concerned about what people would think or about what it might tempt you to … to …” She didn’t want to say anything disparaging, but Anna—Grace and Steven were published. She’d seen the looks flying between the two of them. They loved each other, and their impatience appeared to be growing. Mom and Paul Aldrich had given in to temptation, and their choice carried consequences still today. “Grandmother is trying to protect you.”

  “I know.” Anna—Grace ducked her head for a moment, then offered Alexa a shy smile. “And she’s right. We shouldn’t be alone.”

  Alexa swallowed a knot of jealousy. What was it like to be so in love?

  Anna—Grace grabbed Alexa’s arm and tugged. “Let’s go to my room. We can talk there instead of on the stairs.”

  A part of her wanted to resist, but she let Anna—Grace propel her up the stairs and into the room. She clicked the door closed, sat at the foot of the closest bed, and draped her elbow over the top rail of the footboard. An impish grin appeared on her face.

  “I’ve been dying to ask you something, and now that we’re finally alone, I can do it.”

  Alexa sat on the edge of the second bed and braced herself.

  “Are you and Briley Forrester, um, you know … interested?”

  “Interested?”

  “Yes.” Anna—Grace shrugged one shoulder. “In each other.”

  “What? No!” Heat exploded in Alexa’s face. She fanned her flaming face with both hands. “Gracious sakes, no.”

  “Oh.” Anna—Grace looked surprised. “The way you tease each other, I just thought—”

  “I only give back what he gives me.” Alexa’s tone clipped out more briskly than she intended. “When you’ve been around him more, you’ll discover he flirts with any female who breathes. I could never be interested in someone like Briley Forrester.”

  Anna—Grace fiddled with the brass finial on the footboard. “That’s too bad. That he’s a flirt, I mean. I’ve never seen a better-looking man.”

  “Did you really just say that?”

  The girl had the audacity to giggle. “Well, you have to admit, his looks are kind of hard to miss.”

  Sandra had said something similar. Sitting there with her blond hair tucked under her cap, her innocent expression unable to mask the ornery glint in her eyes, Anna—Grace even resembled Mom’s youngest sister.

  Alexa jumped up and reached for her pajamas, which she’d placed on the chair in the corner. With her back to the other girl, she began dressing for bed. “Good looks aside, Mr. Briley Forrester is trouble waiting for a place to happen. Only a fool would take his teasing seriously.”

  “Oh.” Anna—Grace’s soft voice carried to Alexa’s ears. “That’s disappointing.”

  To her chagrin, Alexa agreed.

  Briley

  Briley stepped into the kitchen Tuesday morning, took one look at Alexa, and burst out laughing.

  She lifted her frown from the computer screen and aimed the glower at him instead. “What’s so funny?”

  “You. Your face.” He laughed again, then drew his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect she spent the night barhopping. But wouldn’t she look out of place in a bar in her tunic-style sweater, long twill skirt, and tennis shoes? “Sorry, but I’ve never seen you so bleary-eyed.”

  “You’d be bleary-eyed, too, if you only got three hours of sleep.”

  He rested his hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “And just what stole your sleep last night?”

  She gave him a look that said she had no intention of answering.

  He chuckled again. “Okay, aside from being tired and cranky, what’s the matter?”

  She pointed at her laptop screen and huffed out an annoying breath. “I have a guest upstairs who is vegan, which means no food from animals—no meat, eggs, any kind of dairy product … I’ve been hunting for a vegan breakfast recipe, but I don’t keep tofu or chard or black beans in my cupboard. I have no idea what to fix for her!”

  Briley pinched his chin. “Do you have potatoes, onions, and peppers?”

  “Well, of course.”

  She really was in a foul mood. He could have some fun tormenting her, but she might decide not to serve him breakfast. The scent of bacon seasoned the entire kitchen. He wouldn’t risk it. “Then make O’Brien hash browns—fried in vegetable oil instead of bacon grease—and toss a piece of dry toast on the plate.”

  “Dry? Why not with jelly?”

  “The strictest vegans won’t touch anything with jelling agent in it.” He remembered something. “Oh, and unless your bread is free of animal-based oil or eggs, it’s a no-go, too. So hash browns and whatever fresh fruit you have around—a banana, an apple, or an orange—and call it good.”

  She gawked at him. “How’d you know all that?”

  “My boss is vegan. I’ve gone to enough breakfast meetings with him to know what he orders.” He fought a smile, remembering Len’s excitement about the possibility of turning the public’s eye on an illegitimate birth in the midst of a Plain community.

  “Well, thanks for the suggestion. I can do hash browns without too much trouble.” She closed the computer and set it aside. “For the vegetarians I’ll add scrambled eggs and a sprinkle of cheese.”

  “A vegan and vegetarians in the inn, huh?” Briley waggled his eyebrows. “My, my, you’re branching out.”

  She frowned as she moved toward the refrigerator. “A family from northeastern Colorado got stranded in Arborville, and they ended up here by default. Their daughter is supposed to compete in a talent show in Branson on Thursday, so they’re eager to be on their way.”

  He’d likely be on his way soon, too. Len had encouraged him to pry out the details of his discovery and hightail it back to Chicago as quickly as possible. Yesterday the prospect of returning to the newspaper office made him eager to go. The sooner he got the story written, the sooner he could see his byline in print. Len had promised front-page status—a huge step up from the middle-of-the-paper articles he’d done in the past. But at that moment, leaning against the counter in Alexa Zimmerman’s clean, good-smelling kitchen, he experienced a reluctance to leave this place behind. You gettin’ soft, Forrester?

  He straightened and headed for the dining room doorway. “Good luck cooking for those veggie lovers, but remember I’m not one of ’em. I want some of that bacon I smell frying.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get some.”

  As he reached the doorway, she called his name. He turned and found her pinning him with a repentant look.

  “I shouldn’t have been so snappish with you this morning. I laid awake last night worrying about—” A delightful blush stole over her cheeks. “Well, just worrying. And I kind of took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

  In his circle of acquaintanceship, the girls had forgotten how to blush. Sad, because he found the pink flush adorable. He grinned. “I figure I’ve given you a reason or two to snap at me in the past, and you held your tongue. We’ll just call this one payback for those times, okay?”

  A weak smile crept up her cheek, making her seem much less tired and cranky. “Thanks, Briley.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, pay attention to what you’re doing and don’t burn my bacon!” He waited for her huff, then entered the dining room laughing. He poured a cup of coffee and sat in his regular spot at the table. In the closed bedroom behind him, Mrs. Z and her nurse chatted, creating a soft mumble. From the kitchen, clanks and clunks told of busyness. He inhaled the aromas of coffee, bacon, and bread, and he heaved a sigh. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he’d miss the homeyness of this place.

  Alexa zipped around the corner with a plate of muffins and a sectioned dish containing whipped cream cheese, butte
r, and strawberry jam. She placed the items on the table.

  He raised one eyebrow. “That is not bacon.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s coming, it’s coming …” She flashed a grin, then trotted back into the kitchen.

  He sighed again. Even harder to admit, he’d miss her. He’d grown rather attached to the not-quite-Mennonite innkeeper. He sipped his coffee, frowning. Would Len agree to let him create pseudonyms for the people in his article? He hoped so. He fully intended to share the story he’d uncovered. He had to tell the story. But he’d do what he could to protect Alexa at the same time. He might be a tease, but he wasn’t a traitor.

  Alexa

  The Kirkleys’ vehicle, which needed a new water pump, wasn’t finished until Wednesday afternoon, so they chose to stay one more night and get an early start on Thursday. Nicole threw a minitantrum over the decision, but her father remained firm. Alexa was glad to see it. Over the short time with them, she’d been given the impression Nicole ruled the roost, and although she had no experience with parenting, she was wise enough to recognize that the girl didn’t possess the maturity to be in charge.

  Everyone ate breakfast at seven thirty Thursday morning so the Kirkley family could get on the road as quickly as possible. Alexa had a hard time not giggling at Nicole’s reaction to Briley sitting beside her. The girl was young, but she knew how to use her feminine wiles. To Briley’s credit, he remained friendly and attentive without lapsing into flirtation. She considered commending him, but then decided he didn’t need anyone giving him compliments.

  More importantly, she needed to hold her distance from him. Over the past three days, he’d gone beyond curious to pushy, questioning her about why she’d been raised in Indiana instead of Kansas, why she didn’t dress like the other Zimmermans, why she wouldn’t talk about her father.

  Sometimes he caught her when she was working on something else—cooking or cleaning or checking e-mail, which meant she answered before she thought. Other times he started out talking about himself, little pieces of growing up in the foster care system without a mom and dad to claim as his own, and it seemed natural to share about her life in return. She’d told Anna—Grace only a fool would fall for Briley’s charm, and apparently she was more foolish than she’d ever believed. Twice she’d let slip things she wished she hadn’t, so now she stayed on her guard. He wouldn’t trip her up again.