The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels)

by Bryant, Cathy

  The horse whinnied and stamped her foot impatiently. Matt moved back to brush her down, determined to put the situation out of his mind. The best way to do that was bury himself in the mound of unfinished paper work and mail that had built up since his niece was born.

  A little while later, he sat behind the massive wooden desk in the equine ministry office and sorted through the stack of papers. He’d only been at work fifteen minutes when his cell-phone played a tune at his side.

  “This is Matt.”

  “Yo, Matt. Derek. How’s it going?”

  A smile sprang to his face. “Hey, man! Good to hear from you. You on the road?”

  “Just got back. Have a couple of weeks of break before we hit it again. That’s why I called.”

  The hair on the back of Matt’s neck snapped to attention.

  “Jack’s taking at least a month off to take care of some business, and I wondered if you might be interested in filling in.”

  Matt stared at the stacks. Push papers or play with a band? The pull of that lifestyle beckoned, but what about Andy and Trish? What about Gracie? “Interested, yeah, but not sure about able. I’m helping my brother and sister-in-law with their equine therapy ministry.” He jotted a quick note on his to-do list to come up with a better name.

  “Yeah, but does it have the potential to be a full-time gig?”

  “Full-time? Thought you a month.”

  “I said at least a month.” Derek cleared his throat. “Can’t really go into too much detail, but Jack’s starting to flake out on us. We’ve told him to fix it or else.”

  “Man, wish I could say yes right now, but I have to pray about this and talk to Andy. I can’t back out of my commitments unless there’s someone to cover me.” In a few weeks the horse rides would stop for the holidays, but would that be to late?

  “That’s one reason the band wants you. You’ll hang in there no matter what. Think you could call me back later today?”

  “You know it.”

  Matt said his good-byes and pocketed the phone in a quandary. He couldn’t just run off and leave Andy and Trish hanging. And there was Gracie to think about. A smirk slid onto his face. Not like it really mattered. She’d made it perfectly clear how she felt. An exasperated breath huffed out of him. How was it possible that he was already thinking about her again? Was this was God showing the way?

  He set back to work on the papers, his mind half on the work in front of him and half on how to broach the subject of the band with Andy. Lord, You know Andy and Trish need me here, but You may have someone else for this work. I need to make a decision, but I want Your will to be done.

  The weight in his chest lightened. God would take care of it. As Matt scribbled a note to talk to Andy later that day, his phone sounded again, this time with the Perry Mason theme. Andy and his impeccable timing. “Hey, bro. I was just thinking about you.”

  Andy chuckled. “What a nice sentiment. Warms my heart to know you think about me. Now tell me why.”

  Matt frantically searched for words, but none came. He should’ve thought through this a little more carefully before bringing it up. “I’d rather talk about it in person.”

  “Okay. Wanna do lunch?”

  An hour later, Matt hunkered down across the table from his brother at Soldano’s, a plate of chicken fajita nachos in front of him. He sniffed the steam rising off the plate, then stuffed a nacho in his mouth, pausing to savor the melted asiago cheese, grilled chicken, and freshly-made guacamole.

  Matt took in the lines of fatigue around his brother’s eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s just been one of those weeks. Barely had time to scarf down an apple for breakfast, and about the only time I get to see my wife is Bethany’s two a.m. feeding. Don’t know what we’d do without you running the ministry right now.”

  The words stabbed at his heart. Not a good time to leave Miller’s Creek.

  “What about you? You okay?” Andy gazed intently at him.

  “Not really. I told Gracie I wanted to see if there could be something more between us.”

  “And?”

  Matt suppressed a shudder. “Not good. Then on top of that you have to assign her to work on a case with her version of Mr. Perfect.”

  Andy’s forehead wrinkled. “She’s not on a case right now. That fell through.” He gave no further explanation. His brother swallowed a first swig of soda pop and hiccupped. “What did you want to talk with me about? I’m guessing it’s not Gracie.”

  “Brilliant deduction, counselor.”

  “Spill it.”

  Matt laid down his fork, wiped his mouth, and looked his brother in the eyes. Best just to tell him the truth, hard as it might be to hear. “I gotta call from a friend today, and he asked me to go on the road with him and the band.”

  Andy raised his eyebrows. “And what have you decided?”

  “Don’t know. I kind of hoped you’d be able to help me make the decision.”

  His brother shook his head, his lips pressed together. “Nope. It’s your call.”

  Matt rubbed the area between his eyes. “I wanna help you and Trish, but I also know God has given me musical abilities.”

  “Agreed, but He’s also given you the gift of helping hurt people.”

  And the desire to do it, but how did he decide between the two? And why did he have to choose one cherished part of himself over another?

  “What about Gracie?”

  His brother’s question slammed into his gut. The question of the century—what about Gracie? Thoughts swamped his brain, and twisted into a big knotted mess.

  “I thought you wanted to—”

  “Yeah, well, what I want and what actually happens are two different things.” Matt stared out the window and across the parking lot, focused on dry brown leaves clinging hopelessly to a clump of oak trees. “I can’t compete with her image of perfection. It’s impossible.”

  “Give her time. And give the situation time. She’ll come around.”

  Hope took wing inside. “You really think so?”

  “Believe it with all my heart. She needs you, and something tells me she’s gonna need you even more in the immediate future.” Andy lowered his head and scratched his chin. “As for me and Trish and the kids, we’d love to have you here, but I’m sure we could find someone else to at least help with the paperwork and day-to-day running of the place. It might take us longer to find a counselor, but it’s not impossible.”

  Matt shot Andy an appreciative grin. At least now he had his blessing. “I’m gonna pray about it this afternoon and then get in touch with Derek. Want me to call you later and let you know?”

  “Please.” Andy, his face grim, plucked the napkin from his lap and deposited it on the half-empty plate. “Sorry to cut this short, but there’s a gentleman here I need to see before he leaves. Will you excuse me a sec?”

  “No prob. I’ll wait outside.” After paying the ticket, Matt opted to sit on the covered patio, which in better weather would be packed. From his perch, he could watch his surroundings and see when Andy exited the building.

  A sleek black Maserati pulled into the parking lot, and Matt released a low whistle. Someone had laid out major bucks for that sweet ride. But who in Miller’s Creek could afford it?

  The car swept into a parking space and the driver’s door opened.

  Matt’s mouth immediately went dry.

  Jason Dent unfolded his lanky frame. The passenger door also opened. No, it couldn’t be. Matt blinked hard to make sure he was seeing correctly. It was Gracie. Jason offered his elbow and smiled down into her beaming upturned face. “Are you sure you don’t mind finding us a table? Sorry, but I need to make a quick call.” Jason’s British accent was unmistakable.

  “I don’t mind at all.” Gracie’s voice lilted like that of a songbird, and what Matt saw inscribed on her face was like a kick in the gut. She was smitten.

  The tall attorney moved down the side of the building toward him, and Matt mom
entarily panicked, looking for a place to hide. What would he say if Jason entered the shade of the patio? Thankfully, the handsome Brit stopped just shy of the area and leaned against the wall to make his call.

  “It’s me.” The man grew quiet, listening intently to whoever was on the other end. After a long minute, he spoke. “Play it cool. Getting upset will only cause foolish mistakes.” Jason grew silent again, and brought a hand up to rub his jaw. “The new girl is no threat.”

  Matt’s heart pounded faster. New girl? Was he referring to Gracie?

  “I tell you, she’s putty in my hands. No need to worry.”

  Sweat broke out along the nape of Matt’s neck. He’d been right about the guy all along. He’d use whoever he needed to accomplish his purposes.

  Jason clicked the phone shut and moved inside the restaurant.

  Matt’s mind raced. Should he say something to Andy? He thought back through what he’d just overheard. Nothing concrete, and Andy was already overburdened. Lord, help me know what to do. No verbal response came, but Matt was suddenly overcome with the most evident response of God he’d ever felt.

  A combination of relief and disappointment melded inside. They all needed him—the band, Andy and Trish, but especially Gracie. His brother had seemed more than a little troubled when he’d mentioned her over lunch, like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t. Did he know something—something he couldn’t reveal for whatever reason?

  Matt leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Without a shadow of doubt, God wanted him here, at least for now, to take care of her. And no matter how appealing it was to go on the road, he’d never sacrifice God’s plan for his own, especially when Gracie’s welfare hung in the balance.

  7

  Grace flung her purse across the bedroom Friday afternoon after work. The bag landed on the bed, but scattered the contents on the tile floor, popping like firecrackers as they landed. Though part of her frustration had to do with not being allowed to help on the Simmons case, a big part of it also had to do with Matt. Andy let it slip yesterday that his brother had an invitation to go on tour with a band. But why was she so put out by the news?

  She ambled to the dresser, removed the new silver hoop earrings, and deposited them in the jewelry box which once belonged to Mama. At first she’d convinced herself that she was upset because of what it would do to Andy and Trish, but if it bothered her this much, was it possible her feelings for Matt ran deeper than she realized? She removed the pins that held her hair in place, allowing the strands to fall to her shoulders, then combed them out with her fingers. This all had to be figured out, and sooner rather than later.

  How she’d missed Matt! She hadn’t seen him since Monday, and thanks to her stubborn pride, that hadn’t ended so well. Grace raised the mini-blinds to look out over the weedy garden spot she’d started years ago with Mama. A sparse handful of marigolds still bloomed, but would die away at the first frost. Multiple questions nibbled at her brain. Had Matt decided to take the gig? Had he already left town? Was he upset with her for going to lunch with Jason?

  A frown creased her forehead as her mind wandered to the past week of working around Jason. He’d been very kind and considerate and even treated her to lunch a couple of times. His legal skills were top notch, his dress and manners impeccable. Though flattered by his constant attention, there was something about him she couldn’t quite put her finger on, beneath the surface, like a shadow in the muddy creek after a big rain.

  Grace flopped down on the bed beside her purse. “Ow!” She stood, plucked a tube of lipstick from the bed, and tossed it in her gaping purse just as the phone rang. She hurdled her briefcase and raced down the hall, hoping it was Matt. “Hello?”

  “Grace? This is Elena Delgado.”

  Elena? She covered the mouthpiece with one palm, her heart thumping in her ears. She swallowed hard to find her voice and moved her hand away from the phone. “Yes?”

  “I was calling to see if this would be a good time for a tour of the District Attorney’s office.”

  Her mouth went dry, but she somehow managed to plow ahead. “Sounds great.”

  “Wonderful. I’m actually in Miller’s Creek right now. Why don’t I swing by and pick you up?”

  Elena come here? “Well, I—”

  “I won’t take no for an answer. The phone book says you live at 1351 Farm to Market Road 8204. Is that right?”

  “Um, yeah, but –”

  “I’ll be there in a few.” The line went dead.

  Grace dropped the phone to the receiver and raced back to her room. After a quick over-haul, she ran to the kitchen and living area to make sure that part of the house was presentable.

  Her heart sank as she scanned the room. What would Elena think? Mismatched furniture, worn and sagging, and kitchen cabinets that had long since seen better days. The bright-colored Mexican tile Mama and Papa brought with them from Mexico had been a pleasant reminder of her heritage at one time. Now it seemed to scream bad taste.

  She gave her head a shake. There was nothing she could do here. Instead, she hurried to check her appearance, quickly combing her unruly hair into place. Maybe she could meet Elena outside. The doorbell rang. With her pulse racing like mad, Grace forced herself to calmly open the front door. “Hi, Elena.”

  Before Grace could object, the other woman pushed her way inside, glancing around the room. “Love what you’ve done with your hair. So this is your house?”

  “It actually belongs to my father. I’m living with him while I pay off my school loans.”

  To her surprise, Elena smiled. “Smart idea. Are you ready to head to Morganville?”

  “Sure.” She followed the other attorney outside to where her beautiful red sports car was parked. Grace’s eyes widened. “This is yours?”

  “Yes. Isn’t it a beauty?”

  Classy black leather decked the interior, which still boasted that new car smell. Grace forced her mouth closed and clicked her seatbelt into place, all the while battling jealousy. Must be nice to have money to burn.

  Elena turned her head to peer over her shoulder as she backed out. “If you don’t mind, we’ll drop by my house first. I’d like to introduce you to my family.”

  “Um, sure. You live nearby?”

  “Between here and Morganville.”

  Grace checked Elena’s left hand. No wedding band.

  A few minutes later they barreled down the highway toward Morganville. In her designer sunglasses and chic clothing, Elena could’ve passed for a movie star or super model. Grace twisted sideways in the seat to face her. “Thanks for the invitation to tour the DA’s office. I really appreciate it.”

  “My pleasure.” Her smile revealed perfect white teeth, which glistened in contrast to her olive skin. “By the way, I heard there might be an opening. I immediately thought of you.”

  Her breath suspended in her chest. “Really?” Grace knew she must sound like an over-eager schoolgirl, but excitement pranced around like a wild horse within.

  Elena laughed, a musical sound like that of tiny wind chimes. “Yes, really. Sounds like you might be interested.”

  Grace chewed her lower lip. Until she had given this more thought, she shouldn’t say one way or the other. “Maybe.”

  “Didn’t you mention you’d always wanted to be a prosecutor?” Elena’s smile had disappeared, replaced with a colder façade—the same one that earned her the reputation of being a tough opponent in court. “What are your objections?”

  “I wouldn’t call them objections exactly.”

  “Then what would you call them?”

  Grace thought through the question. “I guess misgivings would be a better way to describe it.”

  “Why?”

  The woman’s machine gun questioning was getting old. Why the inquisition. “For one thing, I owe Andy a huge debt of gratitude for all he’s done for me.”

  “Such as?” Elena’s voice took on a curious undertone.

  “I probably woul
dn’t be here if it weren’t for him. He’s the one who made it possible for me to go to college.”

  Her arched eyebrows rose above her sunglasses. “You mean he paid for your schooling?”

  “Part of it.”

  Elena grew quiet for the rest of the drive, obviously deep in contemplation based on the squint lines barely visible behind her dark glasses. A few minutes later they pulled off the highway and on to a tree-lined drive. Once they cleared the trees a stately home appeared.

  “Beautiful.” Grace breathed the word in a hushed whisper. A combination of river rock and cedar made up the exterior of the multi-gabled house, and lush evergreens flanked the large windows. This place was the home of her dreams. A monster roared to life inside her. Would she ever be able to afford a home like this?

  Elena pulled to a quick stop and hopped from the car.

  Grace followed. Once inside, she glanced around the home’s interior. Exquisite furnishings and décor filled every room. “Did you decorate this yourself?”

  “Wish I had the time. No, I paid someone.”

  “It’s very nice.”

  “Thanks.” Elena walked toward the back of the home, swiveling her head from side to side as she peered in room after room. “Mom?”

  “I’m here.” An older and rounder version of Elena appeared from a nearby doorway, her face lit with a joyous light. She held out a hand to Grace, her smile wide and generous. “This must be the young woman you were telling me about. Welcome to our home. I’m Consuela.”

  Now the monster clawed its way to her heart, ripping it into ribbons. As if all this grandeur weren’t enough, Elena Delgado had the privilege of living with her mother. She came to her senses and took the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Consuela. I’m Grace.”

  “What a lovely name.”

  Elena craned her neck to look past her mother. “Where’s Jessie?”

  The smile on Consuela’s face disappeared, aging her instantly, like she shouldered a heavy burden. “She’s back here.”