The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels)

by Bryant, Cathy

  What had happened? She closed her eyes, trying to remember. Yes, the gun Jason pointed at Elena went off, and she’d jumped in its path. The possibility that the other woman could be killed before making things right with God had been unthinkable to her. But at what cost?

  She swallowed several times to get rid of the dry desert taste in her mouth, and then twisted her neck to the left to see a large window covered in heavy draperies, with cracks of light rimming the edges in blue. Must still be night. She craned her neck even further at the sound of heavy breathing. Two chairs in reclined position both bore blanketed bodies. Even in the dim light she could make out Papa. But who was the other one?

  The second person startled awake and sat up. Gracie tried to make out features in the darkness, but without success. Maria, maybe? That would make sense. Then the person stood and sauntered from the chair toward the bed. Only one person she knew had that loose-limbed, free-spirited gait.

  A sudden comfort wrapped around her soul. She could get through anything now. Thank You, Lord. Hopefully she could soon give voice to her feelings for him.

  His face, covered with several days’ growth, leaned closer, his eyes red-rimmed with fatigue. “You’re awake.” He spoke the words with a sense of awe and wonder.

  “As are you.”

  He chuckled softly. “Yeah, but I’ve been awake. You haven’t.” His voice broke and his chin trembled. He fell to his knees, his head lowered to the bed, his thick shoulders shaking with sobs. “Thank You, God, for bringing her back to us.”

  Her heart went out to him, but it also leapt for joy. He truly loved her. Of that there was no doubt. She laid a hand, which seemed extraordinarily heavy, on his head, his hair length finally to the point where she could discern curls. “It’s okay, Matt. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The words seemed to hurt rather than help, because now his shoulders shook violently. Only after several minutes and obvious concentrated effort was he able to raise his gaze to hers, his lashes wet and clumped. He looked embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “Please don’t apologize.” She struggled to find the next words to say. Part of her wanted to find out the details of the past few days, but a bigger part of her wanted to confess her love. Unsure of how to best tell him her feelings, she opted for the first choice. “The details of everything that happened are a little fuzzy. Can you fill me in?”

  His sandy brown eyes closed slowly, as though even the thought of reliving that time was painful.

  “Never mind, Matt. We can talk about it later.”

  He lowered his gaze and shook his head, swallowing hard. “No, it’s okay. It’s just—” His voice cracked again. “Sorry.” He pressed his trembling lips together for several seconds before he was able to look at her. “Jason meant to kill Elena. You stepped in front of the bullet.”

  “Well, that much I remember.”

  A tired smile touched his lips. “Oh, so the sarcastic Gracie is also awake?”

  “To know me is to love me.”

  Now his face grew solemn. He probed her eyes for a moment, like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring himself to form the words. “Anyway, Ernie came and carted Jason and Elena away. Based on what I’ve read in the papers, Elena has agreed to cooperate with the authorities and testify against him.”

  “And Jason?”

  His face hardened. “He’ll most likely be out of commission for a very long time.”

  Sorrow flooded her heart and made its way to her face.

  Matt’s expression fell, the tired lines around his eyes deepening. “You still love him?”

  “It’s not like that, Matt, and it really never has been.” She glanced behind his head to the brightening light beginning to stream around the edges of the curtain. “I care about him and wish things could have turned out differently.”

  Disappointment joined the fatigue on his face. “Still wishing for Mr. Perfect, huh?”

  “No.” Gracie gave her head a vehement shake to re-emphasize the word. “If I’ve learned anything from this experience it’s that the old saying is true. All that glitters isn’t gold.” She paused to catch a breath and stave off her dry throat and the bad taste on her tongue. “In fact, if it glitters at all, that’s a pretty good sign I need to run fast and furious in the opposite direction.”

  The smile returned to Matt’s face, only bigger.

  Her heart thumped furiously. She needed to let him know how much she loved him, but surely he’d find her words insincere after the many times she’d made him think she didn’t care for him at all.

  Just as she gathered the courage to express her love, the door swung open. A woman in a white coat entered, a man in scrubs right behind. “Good. You’re awake.” The kind-eyed woman poked the button on a container of sanitizer on the wall, rubbed her hands together, and then leaned forward to shake Gracie’s hand, the smell of rubbing alcohol heavy in the air. “I’m Dr. Jackson. You gave us quite a scare. We didn’t think you were going to make it there for a while.” The woman straddled a nearby stool.

  Gracie glanced at Matt, who had closed his eyes, like the memory was more than he could bear. What she wouldn’t give to erase his sorrow. Getting well was the first step, but then would her words of love be enough?

  Papa joined them, his eyes still bleary with sleep.

  She sent him a smile and turned her gaze back to Dr. Jackson. “Well, I’m tougher than I look.”

  “Glad to hear it, because you’ve still got some hurdles to overcome.” Her words were hushed, but sincere, giving them greater weight.

  A slow shudder raised goose-bumps on the flesh of her forearms. “Sorry, but I’m not following. Other than being weak and thirsty, I feel just fine.”

  Matt now hung his head between his shoulders, and without raising his eyes, he reached over and took her hand in his, caressing her fingertips. Papa also stood with his head down, but one hand rose to wipe away tears.

  A heavy sigh escaped from the woman beside her. “The bullet lodged near your spine, Gracie. It caused pretty extensive damage.” Dr. Jackson paused and swallowed, her kind eyes full of compassion. “There’s a pretty good chance you’ll be paralyzed for the rest of your life.”

  The news seeped into her spirit in clumps. At first she wanted to laugh and shake her head, to tell the doctor there must be some mistake. Instead she decided to prove them all wrong. She threw off the covers and tried to move her legs and toes. Nothing.

  The room began to spin and grew distorted, like she viewed them all through a long, dark tunnel. “Any other great news you care to share?” She knew the bitter acid words she spoke sounded harsh, but at the moment she didn’t care.

  Dr. Jackson nodded. “The bullet destroyed your uterus.”

  A feral sob that seemed to come from a place outside her pierced the dark silence. Her act of grace had been more costly than she’d ever imagined possible.

  She made the mistake of glancing at Matt. Though his form was blurred by her tears, his head still hung low, like he couldn’t bring himself to even look at her. Why would he want to?

  Who would want a future with a crippled woman who could no longer bear children?

  26

  Matt stood in the waiting area at Baylor Medical hospital in Dallas, a sleepy island in the midst of a sea of noise and hubbub, trying to summon strength to help Gracie through the challenges of another day. The hours had stretched into days and the days into weeks. Christmas and New Year’s had come and gone, and now the doldrums of February had set in. The weather seemed to mirror how he felt—completely iced over. And to make matters worse, today was Valentine’s, a day for couples to celebrate their love.

  Another piece of his heart crumbled to ashes and fell to his feet, but he couldn’t give in to despair. Not when Gracie needed him.

  A few nurses smiled as he wandered past their station to the coffee machine to pour another large cup. The smell drifted to his nose, bringing a small measure of comfort. Where
had the past few months gone? Sometimes he found himself wondering which day of the week it was. At other times, he could think of nothing he’d like to do more than just run away from it all. A shuddering sigh escaped. He couldn’t. He loved her too much.

  Gracie’s depression was a giant wall yet to be scaled. Most of the time she merely toyed with her food, and though confined to bed with absolutely no exercise, weight continued to drop from her petite frame. She hadn’t shed one tear since that fateful day when Dr. Jackson had given her the news.

  Matt plopped into a blue chair in the waiting room, not quite ready to face her, and sipped his coffee. Gracie’s surgery had been eight grueling hours of praying like he’d never prayed before. At least the surgeons now held some hope of her walking again, but it grew increasingly obvious that if it happened, it would be later rather than sooner.

  The news that she might walk again seemed to help Gracie, but not near as much as they’d hoped. It was as if she’d closed herself away in a dungeon of her own making, only allowing brief glimpses of the person she once was.

  Matt rubbed his forehead as yesterday’s painful ordeal joined his thoughts. She’d started rehab with great exuberance, but it hadn’t gone well. If anything, the day left her more defeated than ever, with depression once again rearing its ugly head.

  Was there no end in sight? He stood, chunked his cup in the trash can, and ambled to the window. Below him, people scurried like ants into surrounding buildings to escape the bitter cold, and he couldn’t help but wish he were one of them.

  The worst part of this time was Gracie’s constant rejection. She completely dismissed him anytime he tried to hold her hand or converse with her. No matter what he said or did, each incident drove the wedge between them even deeper, and he had no idea how to make it stop.

  The night of the accident he’d regained some confidence that she cared about him. The way she’d reacted when he pulled into Elena’s driveway had renewed his hope, but that hope had long since departed.

  Lord, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Please send answers and help. Show me how to reach her. Inner groans that words couldn’t express continued in his spirit for several minutes.

  Finally he shoved his hands deeper in the pockets of the old jacket he remembered to bring back from a recent trip to Miller’s Creek. His hand hit something hard. He fished it out of his picket, angst turning the coffee in his stomach to acid. The promise ring he’d bought to give Gracie for Christmas.

  A sudden desire to chunk it across the room skittered through him, but he stilled it with a deep breath.

  Give it to her.

  The quiet voice in his head brought a frown to Matt’s face. That had to be the stupidest idea he’d ever heard. Give a ring to her when she usually refused even eye contact?

  Give it to her.

  The voice was still soft and low, but pressing.

  Lord, I don’t know how to do this. She bites my head off if I look at her the wrong way. How can I risk it?

  The answer came immediately. If this one simple act made a difference in her outlook and progress then it would be more than worth it in the end. If she got upset with him, he’d just have to deal with it until she got past it.

  Was he ready for this? He opened the black velvet box and examined the simple gold band with tiny diamonds creating a heart. With this ring, he’d promise his love and commitment to her, with the intention of one day asking her to be his wife. Yes, the fact that he was still at her side proved his readiness. Was she ready?

  His shoulders raised and lowered as he heaved a sigh. There was only one way to find out, but first he had a few details to take care of.

  A few hours later, his heart reinforced with newfound resolve, he strode down the antiseptic-smelling hallway to her room, knocked on the door, and entered. Encircled with flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, and other gifts from the people of Miller’s Creek, the room bore testimony to the love others had for her. Many folks had made a special trip to see her, but even then, she kept a wall up, like she couldn’t quite bring herself to completely trust anyone’s friendship.

  Gracie didn’t face him when he entered. Instead she kept her head turned toward the plate glass window, her eyes unseeing.

  “How’s my girl?”

  “Fine.”

  Her emotionless response didn’t shock him in the least. Most of her answers nowadays were mono-syllabic. But impatience flared inside him, a sleeping monster easily awakened. God, give me the words to say, and help me not to say anything I shouldn’t. With quiet determination, he moved between her gaze and the window. “I need you to come with me.”

  She said nothing.

  Matt pulled the wheelchair from the corner, unfolded it, and moved it closer to the bed.

  Her face darkened in a scowl. “What are you doing?”

  “I already told you. I need you to come with me.”

  “Well, that’s kind of hard to do when my legs don’t work, isn’t it?”

  Her sharp words stabbed holes in his fragile patience. He calmed himself with another deep breath and stepped closer to the bed, raising it to an upright position. He punched the red button to call one of the nurses he’d just spoken to.

  Bridget appeared a moment later and sent Matt a conspiratorial wink as she bustled into the room. She threw back the sheet and blanket covering Gracie’s legs. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

  “That depends.” Her voice held an acidic undertone.

  Bridget ignored the comment and motioned Matt to Gracie’s other side with her head. In a moment’s time, Gracie rested in the wheelchair. Matt stooped to slip her fuzzy red house shoes on her feet and dismissed the daggers she shot at him.

  She didn’t say a word as he wheeled her down the hall to the elevator and down two levels to the room the nurses had helped him procure at the last minute. But as he maneuvered the chair through the door, she gasped.

  Miniature twinkle lights sparkled from the faux trees he’d confiscated from several places. In their midst sat a small table for two, wrapped in a white tablecloth and more lights. Two tall tapers flickered from the table and soft music played from a nearby boom box. The smell of grilled steak permeated the space.

  Gracie’s jaw hung open, her eyes reflecting the lights. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Pure pleasure trickled through him. Just the reaction he’d hoped for. “And this is just the beginning, sweetheart. I figured you could use a break from hospital food, so I arranged for a catered meal. Later we’ll watch a movie.” He pointed to the other end of the semi-darkened room to a big-screened TV. In front of it lounged two recliners with small tables on either side to hold their drinks and popcorn. “Just another one of those BFF things.”

  Her eyes softened momentarily, but then went stone cold. “Thanks, but you don’t have to entertain the crippled lady.”

  Flames of fury flashed, and his jaw cinched into a hard knot. Lord, help me to remember all she’s been through, but show me how to not let her get away with self-pity and rudeness. Matt squatted in front of her so she wouldn’t look past him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m about ready to pound some sense into that pretty little head of yours.”

  Her eyes widened.

  At least he’d gotten her attention. Matt rose to his feet and rolled her to the table. He lowered himself to the chair next to her and snapped open a napkin to place in his lap. “I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to go through what you’re experiencing right now, but I can tell you what it’s been like for me and the other people from Miller’s Creek.” He stared her down. “We hurt, too, Gracie. Maybe not in the same way, but we still hurt. It hurts to see you so distant and aloof. It hurts us that none of our efforts to help seem to affect you in the least.”

  Her facial features tightened, but she still didn’t speak.

  “I have something I’d like to give you. Regardless of your response, I want you to know I’m gonna st
ick to you like glue until you make it through this. But you get to decide what happens after that.”

  Her dark eyes, so big in her pale face, held questions. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.” Matt reached in his pocket and removed the box of candy hearts he’d bought at a ridiculous price in the hospital gift store. All but one heart had been removed, and he’d cushioned it in white tissue paper so the message showed through the cellophane window. It simply read, ‘Be mine.’ He dropped it to the table and slid it across to sit directly in front of her. “Read it, and then open the box.”

  She stared at it for a moment, then moved her gaze to his, still silent. After what seemed like an eternity, she picked up the box and gingerly opened it, the ring rolling into her cupped palm.

  “It’s a promise ring, Gracie.”

  Her face twisted and contorted, then heavy sobs racked her body. Matt scooted his chair closer and took her in his arms to stroke her long dark hair, praying her tears would be the catharsis she so desperately needed. The sound of her sobs and the soft scent of her soap sent an ache through his chest. “It’s okay, Gracie. Let it out.”

  The tears she’d held back for the duration of time she’d been in the hospital now flowed with no end in sight. For a good half hour, Matt held her. Finally, and much to his regret, she pulled away.

  With a sniff, she wiped her face for the millionth time and peered at him through puffy eyes. “It’s lovely, but I can’t accept it.”

  The softly-spoken words gouged into tender flesh. “Why?”

  “You think I want to be promised to someone just because they feel sorry for me?”

  Fatigue forced his impatience to a quick angry boil. He leaned back in the folding chair and struggled to control the edge to his words. “Is that what you think? You really believe I’ve put up with you and your foul moods for the past two months because I pity you?”

  “You can’t deny that you feel sorry for me.”

  “You’re right. I can’t. But I can say with all honesty that I didn’t give you the ring because of pity. I bought it after that Friday night at the lake house.”