The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels)

by Bryant, Cathy

  His confidence deflated like an unknotted balloon. She didn’t have to sound so excited about it.

  “What time?”

  He glanced at his watch. Already 2:30? “How about I swing by and pick you up in an hour?” That should give him plenty of time to talk to Trish and get back to town.

  “I’ll see you then.”

  Matt pocketed the phone, climbed from the Pinto, and ambled down the front porch between Austin limestone and cedar posts to rap on the massive wooden door Trish had imported from Mexico.

  It swung open. “It’s about time you showed up!” His sister-in-law spit out the words in a frenzied rush as she enveloped Matt in a split-second hug. “I hoped you’d be here earlier.”

  “Didn’t Andy tell you I was having lunch with Mama Beth?” He followed her into the house.

  She gave her dark ponytail a shake. “No, he stayed in town after church to do some work at the office.”

  “Sorry.”

  Trish sent a sheepish grin. “Not your fault. With a newborn in the house, some things just don’t get communicated.” She shut the door behind them. “Sorry if I sounded frantic. Bethany finally fell asleep a few minutes ago, but then Brady woke up. Bo just called. I need to go pick him up at a friend’s house just down the road. I won’t be gone long.”

  Gone long? She was leaving him with a four-year old and a newborn? He scratched his cheek. “Um, go on, Trish. Gotcha covered.” He tried his best to sound convinced. Him? Keep kids? Not exactly in his comfort zone.

  Trish snatched her purse from the hallway table, blew him a kiss, and quietly shut the door behind her on the way out.

  Brady peeked up at him from the living room doorway, his ruddy cheeks and disheveled red curls proof that he’d recently awakened from a nap. Both times Matt had been to visit, Brady was already in bed sound asleep. It was good to finally see him awake. “Hey, bud, how’s it going?”

  Brady didn’t answer.

  Matt knelt to his nephew’s level. “It’s me, Brady. Uncle Matt.”

  The four-year-old frowned. “Nuh uh. Unca Matt looks diffewent.”

  “I just have shorter hair now.”

  “And hair on your face.”

  Matt laughed and rose from his knees. “Yep, but it’s still the same old Uncle Matt underneath.” He made a move toward Brady to give him a hug.

  His nephew let out an ear-piercing scream and bolted for the sofa. “Leave me alone!” He added another scream for emphasis.

  “It’s me, buddy. I promise.”

  A strange sound emanated from down the hallway, and Matt stopped in his tracks. “What’s that?”

  “The baby. You’re in twouble now. You woke up the baby and my mama’s gonna be vewy mad.”

  “Me? I didn’t wake her up. You’re the one screaming like a banshee.” As Matt made his way down the hallway toward the sound, chubby arms encircled one of his legs.

  “Leave my sistew alone.” Brady hung from him like a koala on a eucalyptus.

  “I’m just gonna check on her. Let go of Uncle Matt.”

  “No!”

  “Okay. Have it your way.” He somehow managed to make it to the baby bed with extra weight clamped to his leg.

  His niece, her head wrapped with a piece of shiny pink elastic, squirmed red-faced in the bed below him. How could such a gosh-awful racket come from someone so small? He patted her chest. “Shh, little one. Mama will be back in a minute. I’d be crying too if they wrapped that thing around my head.” Her cries intensified until she turned a scary shade of purple.

  Man, how did he get himself in this mess? Did he dare pick her up? He considered his options, and then caved. Anything to stop the noise. He cradled the baby’s head in one hand and her bottom in the other just as something sharp sank into his right hamstring. “Ow!” Matt flinched and looked over his shoulder.

  Brady, still clinging to his leg in a bear hug, now had his teeth sunk into tender flesh. The baby stopped crying and peered up at him through tiny eyes.

  Forgetting the pain radiating down the back of his leg, Matt smiled. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s Uncle Matt.” A foul odor reached his nostrils. His face wrinkled. “Man! What’s that smell?”

  A muffled answer came from his nephew.

  “Can’t understand you with your mouth full, Brady.”

  The teeth unclamped. “She has a poopy diapew.”

  Matt held the pink bundle further from him. “You sure?”

  “If it smells like poop, it must be poop.”

  He raised his eyebrows and glanced at his nephew. “Pretty wise observation from a tyke like you.”

  “I’m not a twike. I’m a boy.” He latched to Matt’s skin with his teeth again.

  “Ow! Stop it, will ya?”

  Bethany wriggled and screamed again, her tiny fingers curled into flailing fists.

  How was he supposed to handle this? He made his way to the changing table just as the front door slammed. Good. Trish was home. “Back here!”

  A second later Trish and his oldest nephew, Bo—now almost as tall as his mother—appeared in the doorway. The incredulous looks on their faces were quickly replaced with smiles and laughter.

  “Here, let me take her.” Trish made it across the room in a few steps, reached for Bethany and pulled her close, before making a face and quickly depositing her on the changing pad. “Brady, let go of Uncle Matt.”

  His nephew obeyed and moved to stand beside his brother.

  Matt scowled at him. “Hope you don’t have rabies.”

  “I don’t have wabies, I have lice.”

  Trish burst into laughter. “No you don’t.”

  “That was last year at preschool, Brady.” Bo tousled his brother’s hair then looked up at Matt with eyes that looked just like Trish’s. “Wanna go for a ride, Uncle Matt?”

  Though his scalp started to itch, Matt resisted the urge to scratch. Instead he bumped fists with his oldest nephew. “Love to, Bo, but I can’t right now. I need to talk to your mom for a second before I meet Gracie in town.”

  “Gracie?” Trish eyed him with a knowing look, and then scooped the baby up to her right shoulder and cast a quick glance at Bo. “Why don’t you take Brady for a ride?”

  “Mo-o-om . . . ” One swift look from Trish was all it took to still his objection. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned to his younger brother. “Come on, Brady, let’s go get your boots on.”

  With a hoot and a holler, Brady took off down the hallway, a reluctant Bo right behind him.

  “You’ve done a great job with Bo, Trish. He’s turned into a fine young man.”

  She smiled. “Thanks to Andy. I couldn’t have done it without him. Bo has come such a long way.” Her voice choked a bit, but she quickly regained control. “Now what did you want to talk about?”

  “What’s your opinion of Jason Dent?”

  Her eyes widened. “I sure wasn’t expecting that question. He’s a great guy. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.”

  Trish moved the baby to cradle position in her arms. “Andy said you might stick around to help with the equine ministry.”

  “Another thing I wanted to discuss. I’m torn about what to do. I only wanna say yes to the job if I’m doing it for the right reasons. Right now, I feel like I’m only here to see if . . . ”

  “If things work out with Gracie?”

  Matt nodded uncomfortably. Gracie needed him. She just didn’t know it.

  Trish sent a sympathetic look. “Look at it this way. It’s a chance to use your degree and help so many hurting people. And it’ll give you and Gracie the opportunity to really get to know each other. But we realize that what we want might not be what God wants for you.”

  Bingo. She’d just hit the proverbial nail on its proverbial head. This was God’s call, not his, not theirs, not Mama Beth’s. “I just want to follow His plan.”

  A smile landed on her face. “I totally understand. When I first met your brother, I struggled with that very thing. God wi
ll reveal His plan to you in His perfect time.”

  “It’s like I have a bunch of puzzle pieces, but I can’t quite figure out how they all fit together.”

  “And you’re wondering how Gracie fits in?”

  Gracie! His pulse zoomed to cheetah speed as he glanced at his watch. There was no way he’d make it by 3:30. “Sorry, Trish, but I’ve gotta run. I promised Gracie I’d meet her for hot chocolate.” And her pet peeve was people who were late.

  Trish laughed and followed him to the front door. “Maybe she won’t kill you. We’ll talk later. Hope your time together helps you figure out at least part of the puzzle.”

  From Trish’s mouth to God’s ears. Matt hurried to his car with a final wave to his sister-in-law. As he pulled onto the ranch road, he prayed Gracie had chosen to wait for him.

  5

  Grace stationed herself at the front window to wait for Matt. With every tick of the clock, the look in Papa’s eyes morphed into a triumphant “I told you so!”

  The comment he made when he learned Matt was picking her up for hot chocolate replayed in her brain. “He is not the kind of man you need, Graciela. Imagine what everyone will be saying and thinking about you for hanging out with his type.”

  She’d argued her case for Matt with every tool she had in her attorney arsenal—accused him of judging Matt by his appearance, reminded him who’d thrown the surprise party—but now she couldn’t help wondering if Papa was right.

  Grace checked the time again. 3:45. Matt was staying true to form, and without knowing it, giving validity to Papa’s opinion.

  One way or another, once he arrived, she had to find a way to let him know she was only interested in friendship. It would be hard, but it was the right thing to do.

  Just as she began to lay down her things, a yucky green car pulled into the driveway. Matt?

  Rather than embarrass him with Papa’s rude treatment, she opted to let herself out the front door and met him as he climbed from the pea-green car. “Where’d you get this?”

  Matt squinted against the sun. “I gather from the look on your face that you don’t like it?”

  “The color is . . . um, rather institutional, don’t you think?” Grace moved to the passenger side, and Matt followed.

  “At one time, someone probably paid a lot of money for this custom color.”

  “I sure hope they got a good price.” She eyed the beat-up car and the brown rusty hole in the back fender. Maybe no one would notice her in the car. She scrunched up her nose. Yeah, right. It wasn’t the kind of car people didn’t notice.

  “All right, little Miss Perfect, may I remind you that you drive around in a beat-up white farm truck from the sixties?”

  She glared at him. “That’s different. Everyone in Texas drives a pickup.”

  “Not me.” He stood with arms crossed and his chin lifted.

  Grace rolled her eyes and opened the door. “No, you drive the puke-mobile.”

  Matt laughed and held the door while she climbed in. “Hey, I like that name!” He closed the door and moved to the driver’s side.

  She glanced around the shabby interior. Figured he was the kind of guy who actually enjoyed the derogatory nickname.

  A few minutes later they parked close to Granny’s Kitchen. Grace couldn’t help but smile as she crossed Main Street to her hometown café, where light shone from the plate glass windows. She could smell the mouth-watering food from outside.

  The bell above the door announced their arrival, and the usual crew looked up and waved. As Grace scooted into the booth she and Matt always occupied, a feeling of contentment washed over her. How she loved these people!

  Mama Beth and Big Bo sat at a table with Steve and Dani, or “Mr. and Mrs. Mayor” as the townspeople called them. A loud burst of laughter echoed from nearby. Grace knew it was Coot without even looking. She turned her head their direction. J.C., Coot, Otis, and the rest of the old geezers congregated at a booth, most likely discussing the latest gossip.

  One of the Grannies zigzagged through the tables to where they sat. “Hey, kiddos, what can I gitcha?”

  “Two hot chocolates, please, and bring them in cups with lids.” As she bustled away, Matt made eye contact with Grace, his sandy brown eyes apologetic. “Sorry I was late, but I can explain. I went to see Trish, but she had to go pick up Bo. The baby was asleep and she needed me to stay with Bra—”

  “No excuses necessary.”

  “But they’re not excuses. I really did have to babysit.”

  Grace pointed a finger at him. “Just stop already.”

  He raised both hands in surrender. She could practically see words slamming into each other behind his teeth, but he kept his lips clamped in a tight smile.

  The Granny arrived with two large cups of steaming hot cocoa and placed them on the table, the chocolaty aroma teasing Grace’s nose.

  Across the table, Matt grew unusually quiet. He stared at nothing, his eyes glazed. Uh oh. This couldn’t be good. Something was brewing in that head of his.

  “Earth to Matt.”

  He blinked and sat up straighter. “Sorry. Guess I kinda zoned out there.”

  She gingerly sipped the cocoa, careful not to burn her mouth. Dare she ask? “What’s on your mind?”

  As expected, he jumped on the invitation. “Remember how much fun we had two summers ago?”

  It had been a great summer. One of those rare times in her life when she’d actually had fun. “Yeah, probably because we were just two crazy kids having a good time. I sometimes find myself wishing I was a kid again.”

  Matt laughed. “You’ve never been a kid, Gracie Mae. Admit it. I’ll bet you acted like an adult when you were twelve.”

  Memories of herself at twelve moved to the front of her brain. She leaned back and crossed her arms. “Because I had to.”

  “Sorry, Gracie, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  She relaxed her posture and attempted a smile. “It’s okay. It’s the truth, like it or not. Some of us don’t get to be kids.”

  Matt nodded and leaned forward, his eyes glimmering with boyish excitement. “Let’s be kids while I’m here.”

  While he was here, implying that his time in Miller’s Creek was short-term as she’d suspected.

  “I know we can’t be kids all the time, but let’s try to do something fun at least once a week.”

  A surprising flicker of hope lit inside her at the thought of repeating the fun they’d had two years ago. “Sounds good.”

  He held out his right pinky finger. “Pinky swear.”

  A belly laugh burst from her lips. “You weren’t joking about being kids again, were you?”

  Matt just sat there with a lackadaisical expression and his pinky at the ready.

  She gave a quick scan of the room to see if anyone was watching them, then joined her right pinky with his, her elbow at rest on the table. “I cannot believe I’m doing this.”

  “Repeat after me, killjoy.”

  A giggle escaped. “Okay.”

  “I, Gracie Mae Soldano.”

  No way would she use that name. “I, Grace Soldano.”

  “Do solemnly pinky swear.”

  Her brows wrinkled. “Can you do a pinky swear solemnly?”

  “Quit over-analyzing everything, Gracie. That’s not kid stuff. Do solemnly pinky swear.”

  “Okay, okay, do solemnly pinky swear.”

  “That I will do kid stuff with my BFF, Matt Tyler, at least once a week.” He finished with a wink.

  She groaned. “Honestly? BFF?”

  He feigned a hurt expression. “I am your BFF, aren’t I?”

  “Good grief! All right. I’ll do kid stuff with my BFF, Matt Tyler, at least once a week.”

  Matt released her pinky and sat back, victory plastered on his face. He looked ready to crow.

  Grace gave her head a shake. “I’m convinced you have Peter Pan syndrome.”

  Matt laughed. “And you harp on me for diagnosing your quirks.” He
slurped hot chocolate and smacked his lips, then scooted out of the booth.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Time for a little of that fun we just promised to have.” As they passed the counter, Matt paid the tab. “Thought we could walk to the park. Is that okay?”

  “Nothing like a walk on a pretty day to clear your head.” She followed him out the door and waited while he retrieved something from his car. He held up a Frisbee, and a smile landed on her face. “I haven’t played Frisbee in forever.”

  They meandered through the heart of town toward the park. Matt gave her a sideways glance. “We haven’t had a chance to really talk much this week. Anything eventful happen?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. Andy might put me on my first case with Jason.” Was this a good segue point into the “let’s-just-be-friends” speech?

  Matt’s face paled momentarily, but he sent a congratulatory smile. “Way to go, Gracie Mae.”

  Why did he feel the need to call her that? “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that name?”

  His eyes held a teasing gleam as they crossed the street to Creekside Park, the gurgle from the creek a siren’s song, beckoning them to play. “Which one? Grace or Gracie Mae?”

  “Well, since you asked, both.”

  He looked somewhat taken aback. “I can understand the one, but what’s not to love about Grace? It’s a beautiful name.” He motioned her to one end of an open area in the park and tossed the Frisbee.

  She caught it and returned it. “And impossible to live up to. I have a hard time just wrapping my brain around the concept, much less putting it into practice.”

  Matt chased the disc. “Difficult maybe, but not impossible. And don’t sell yourself short. I’ll admit grace is pretty hard for us to comprehend. Just about the time I think I have a grasp on it, God shows me a little bit more. It’s like a bottomless supply.”

  The same thought she’d had earlier in the week. She marveled. Yet another drop of grace.

  “I used to think mercy and grace were the same, but I don’t feel that way anymore. The difference between them is actually astronomical.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “How?”

  “Grace is getting something wonderful, something you could never earn or get for yourself, something you don’t deserve. Mercy is not getting what you truly deserve.” Matt sailed the Frisbee high.