Trusting Grace

by Maggie Brendan

  “By the way,” he said, “your foot is not nearly as swollen, but the bruise sure is turning blue.”

  She looked closely at her foot as she took it out of the water to gently pat it dry with a towel. “I think you’re right.”

  “It’ll be healed in time for you to go to the Bozeman Ball.” He grinned.

  Grace giggled. “You forget that I just sent the man who was courting me packing.”

  “True, but there’s Robert.” Owen gave her a level gaze.

  “I don’t think he’s interested in me or going to any ball. He keeps to himself and seems to like it that way.” She slipped on her sock and shoe.

  “You don’t know that,” he countered.

  Grace shrugged, and picked up the pan of water to dump outside. “I think you’re dreaming.”

  “You can’t tell me you aren’t attracted to him. He’s a good man.” He continued talking as she went into the backyard to throw out the water.

  When she returned, she saw Ginny arriving in her carriage. “Ginny, dear. How are you?” Grace hurried to open the door for her friend. “You look much better than when I saw you on Sunday.”

  Ginny smiled. “Oh, I am to be sure, especially by each afternoon. I heard about Sarah and your foot from Robert, but I needed to see for myself how everything was.”

  “I’m doing much better. I just soaked my foot in bath salts that Robert got for me. Sarah has a little cold but seems better today. But tell me, how are you feeling overall?”

  “Robert bought some bath salts. How thoughtful.” Ginny shot her an endearing look, then continued. “Some foods don’t always agree with me, or the very thought of them makes me queasy. For instance, coffee. I can’t bear to drink it now.”

  “I poured her a cup and she turned a pale shade of green.” Owen laughed, and Ginny giggled.

  “Let me fix you some hot tea then.” Grace moved to the stove.

  “That would be nice. Becky mentioned something about Warren. What happened?”

  Grace and Owen told her about the fiasco with the cat.

  Once Ginny stopped laughing she said, “I’m sorry. It sounded so funny when you told it, but I think you did the right thing, Grace. This is very concerning about Warren’s attitude. Do you mind if I tell Frank about this?” Ginny said, then took a sip of her tea.

  “Not at all. There’s something about Warren that I can’t put my finger on. He wants me to be focused totally on him and no one else.”

  “I agree, that’s odd.”

  Owen pushed his chair back. “I’ll leave you two to chat—”

  “Wait, Pop. Before you leave, tell Ginny what Stella told us today about your health.”

  “I don’t want to bore her with my health,” Owen replied.

  “You won’t be boring me. You know I consider you like a second father. Please, tell me. Have you received some bad news?”

  “Maybe. Dr. Avery hasn’t been sure I had a stroke, and now we might have an idea what is wrong with me.”

  “Then I want to hear about it, Owen,” Ginny said.

  Owen explained what Stella had told him, summarizing the details as best he could. “I don’t think it’ll kill me, but it will impact my life.”

  Ginny shook her head sadly, then looked at him and Grace. “But at least you may be closer to knowing what to do about it, right?”

  “That’s just it. It’s rare and not a lot of research has been done. We’re going to town tomorrow to talk with Dr. Avery. He’s busy today because Matilda is in labor.”

  “Then please, let me know what you discover,” Ginny said.

  “Perhaps I can come by and help you with the nursery too.”

  “Not yet, the fabric hasn’t been delivered last I checked. I need it to pick a paint color.” Pushing back her chair, Ginny set her teacup down and rose from her chair. “Thanks for the cup of tea. I’m glad I came to check on you and you as well, Owen. You know you’re like family to me.” She reached over to hug Owen and Grace noticed tears in his eyes—which was the case more often than not anymore with him.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” Grace offered, standing up.

  “Uh, you mean you’ll hobble. Don’t trouble yourself. I can let myself out.” Ginny squeezed her hand. “Please take care of that foot so you’ll be fit as a fiddle to go to the ball.”

  “Ginny. I haven’t said I was going. You know I haven’t a dress to wear to a ball.” Grace expelled a deep breath.

  “We’ll see about that when you’re in town.” Ginny glanced at her watch dangling from a gold chain. “Oh, goodness. Look at the time. I must get home before Frank or he’ll be worried about me. Toodle-oo.” She gave a tiny wave, then left.

  As Ginny left, Becky burst into the kitchen with Sarah trailing a little slower behind her. “I’m hungry. Can we start supper now?” Becky inquired.

  Grace motioned for Sarah to come close. She wanted to test her forehead for fever.

  Sarah leaned against her. “I’m tired.”

  “Does she have a fever?” Owen watched as Grace felt her face and arms.

  “I believe she may, Pop. Sarah, why don’t you go back to your room, and we’ll bring you supper in bed?”

  “I’m not hungry,” she answered with glazy eyes.

  “Then, I’ll make you some chamomile tea and bring you some crackers.”

  “Okay. Can Becky come with me?”

  Grace nodded. “Yes. That’s a good idea.”

  “But I was going to help you so you won’t be on your foot,” Becky reminded her.

  “Not to worry. It’s feeling so much better. Get Sarah into bed and then come help me.”

  Owen piped up. “No, you sit still. I can still walk, you know—just not fast. Why don’t we see what’s left over from the dinner Stella brought?”

  “Thanks, Pop. That will be fine, if we have enough.”

  He winked at Becky. “It’ll be plenty, especially when I whip up a pan of biscuits.”

  Spring quickly turned into summer and Grace’s flowers were blooming, but more importantly, the potatoes showed signs of a good crop when she’d walked through the field yesterday. They’d do well at harvesttime—thanks in part to Robert’s help and Tom’s. She was so glad that Ginny had told Robert about her need, especially since that brought the children and Robert into her life, which was richer than it had ever been.

  She was up early and stood kneading dough for bread by the kitchen window—which offered a pleasant morning view—thinking over the last several months. Tomorrow, at Dr. Avery’s urging, she would take her father to the hot springs to help him manage his ailment. She hoped it would help. Even if it didn’t, Stella had energized him better than any medicine could.

  Her foot had healed and Sarah was back to her happy self, full of smiles and giggles, although Robert still lived in town with the children. Many times they would ride to the farm when Robert came and help with baking or laundry. Neither of the girls liked pulling weeds, so she enlisted Tom and got to know him better. She found him to be smart and eager to please. His sullen looks were replaced with an ever-warming smile and inquisitiveness to learn everything he could. Somehow, Stella had gotten him interested in the medical field, and he told her he was determined to be a doctor.

  She punched down the dough, then patted it into two loaves. She could feel totally peaceful . . . if . . . If her father was better . . . If she was able to get a good price at the market for the harvest . . . If she had a nice dress for the Bozeman Ball . . .

  She admonished herself. Too many ifs. Why am I so ungrateful when I have so many blessings in my life? An unexpected tear fell down her cheek. She knew why. She was in love with Robert and his children, but what could she do about it?

  Grace set the dough aside, covering the loaves with a muslin cloth, then stepped outside. Smiling, she watched as Bluebelle came waddling up to the porch. She bent down and lifted the duck to her arms. “You silly duck. What would I do without your companionship? I’m hoping to have a compa
nion for you soon. No one should be all alone without someone to love.” Bluebelle pecked her on the face and she laughed.

  “Does that apply to you as well as Bluebelle?” Grinning, Robert strode into the yard and stood watching her and the duck. “I see you talk to your duck quite a bit.” He chuckled.

  Grace turned around. She hadn’t realized he’d arrived. “I talk to Bluebelle because she doesn’t talk back,” she quipped.

  ———

  Robert couldn’t resist teasing her. “That’s the way it is with most women, they want to do all the talking.”

  “I beg your pardon?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “If we didn’t have to read minds, I think conversation would be a whole lot different.” She put Bluebelle on the ground and watched her waddle off with a quack.

  “I’ve always answered you.”

  “Yes, usually with one-word answers.”

  He gazed down at her and she looked at him, her hands on her hips and chin lifted with a fake defiant look that he’d come to know. All he could think about was the kiss he’d stolen and the softness of her lips beneath his. “I’ll try to do better.”

  “That would be a nice change indeed.”

  “I try to please.”

  “Then maybe you could start today.”

  “All right . . . about that kiss—”

  “I know. It was a mistake.” She lifted her skirts to leave, but Robert touched her arm and she paused, lifting her gaze to look at him through warm honey-colored eyes that went straight to his heart.

  “No, it was not a mistake. What I wanted to say was I’m not sorry that I stole that kiss.”

  Grace blinked. “It’s much too early to be talking about such things.”

  “I thought you wanted me to talk more.”

  “I—I do, but—” Her eyes flittered away.

  “But what? Are you still seeing Warren? Owen told me what happened after me and Tom left that day.”

  “I haven’t seen him since that day, and I don’t intend to.”

  “Well, then. Maybe you’d like to take a turn down the lane on a proper courting ride.” He waited, stiff shouldered.

  “Well . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t let me twist your arm. Either you do or you don’t.”

  Grace stood gazing back with a blank look. Apparently, he’d gotten the wrong impression that she might actually like him in that way. “Forget it. I’ve got work to do.” He twisted on his boot and strode in the direction of the barn.

  “Where are the children?” she asked.

  “They’re not coming today,” he tossed over his shoulder. He couldn’t get away fast enough. How stupid of him. Why did he think she’d share his feelings? He had absolutely nothing to offer her. When had he decided he was looking for another woman in his life? He felt foolish. He’d hurry through his chores and get back to the mercantile. There was plenty of work to do there that would take his mind off her and get his focus back on the children that he’d promised to care for. Permanently.

  31

  Grace almost went after him. But what would I say? She hurried back inside, knowing she may have just ruined any chance she had with Robert.

  She picked up the basket to gather eggs. Hopefully her mood would improve before her father asked questions.

  Owen took time to pray, sitting on the edge of his bed, regretting that he couldn’t get on his knees before the Lord. Many times, he felt the need to humble himself before his Creator in prostration, but it had become too hard for him. He prayed about the visit to the hot springs and thanked God for Stella’s friendship and concern for his health. He also prayed for his daughter’s future. After pouring his heart out, he rose and shuffled his way to the kitchen where breakfast smells assailed his nostrils, realizing that he was hungry for a change.

  “Good morning, Grace,” he said, making it to the stove for coffee.

  “Morning,” she replied, tight-lipped. She didn’t look at him but continued frying bacon.

  “Anything amiss?”

  “No. Why?”

  He scratched his unshaven face. “Oh, I don’t know. You seem a little grumpy.”

  “Well, I’m not. I’ve been trying to get my chores done earlier today so I can get us packed for tomorrow’s trip.” She laid the cooked pieces of bacon on a plate, then viciously cracked two eggs to cook sunny-side up for him.

  He knew her well enough to know something was bothering her, but it was up to her if she wanted to talk about it. “I was thinking of asking Robert to go along with us. What do you think?”

  “No,” she answered through clenched lips, then she flipped the eggs. “We don’t need him. Besides, who will watch out for the children?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but I’m sure Stella would keep an eye on them for the day.”

  She placed his breakfast before him, then poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down.

  “My thought was he could help me in and out of the springs. He’s a lot stronger than you. I don’t think he’d mind.” Owen watched her face while he ate. Did her mood have something to do with Robert?

  Grace sighed. “I didn’t think about that. I believe I made him angry this morning, but you can ask. Just don’t be surprised if his answer is no.” She stirred the sugar in her coffee.

  Owen washed down his eggs with a swig of coffee. “A fight so early in the morning?”

  “Oh, Pop. I think I made a mistake. He told me he wasn’t sorry about the kiss that I told you about, and I didn’t answer him right away so he took it to mean that I didn’t want him to court me. I’ve probably lost any chance of his courting me.” She blurted out the string of sentences without taking a breath.

  Have mercy. How his daughter could talk when she chose to. He shook his head. “My goodness, Grace. You can’t ride a horse in both directions. I’ve watched you. You give him different signals, and unless I’ve missed the mark, I think you care more for him than you let on. It’s no wonder he hasn’t said anything to you before.”

  He watched her face crumple and she started to cry. “There now, sweet daughter. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he soothed, covering her hand with his own.

  She pulled her handkerchief out of her apron and sniffed into it. “I’m just so confused, Pop. Remember, he didn’t know much about his first wife and wound up with three children. How do I know he has real feelings for me?”

  “Well, a man don’t have real thoughts about women till he’s thirty-five. A’fore then, all he’s got is feelin’s. I’d say since you’re both older, thoughts are worth a whole lot better than just feelin’s,” he reasoned, then tipped his cup for the last bit of coffee and waited for that to sink in.

  She winced, her face softening, and said quietly, “I never knew I was giving off any signs to him. He’s a man of few words so I didn’t know he might want to get to know me better.”

  Owen crackled with laughter. “I could see how he looked at you when no one was watching. Did it ever occur to you that he wanted to proceed with caution after what happened with him before?”

  “Yes, but it also made me think he might be the kind of man who went from woman to woman.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “Grace, listen to yourself. Robert would have been long gone from here soon as he had two coins to rub together if it weren’t for you, and he’d have dumped those kids off back on their aunt, or he never would’ve taken them in. What kind of man do you think he is?”

  She breathed a long breath. “I suppose you’re right, like you always are, but after the way Warren acted, I wasn’t sure.”

  “Then you must see how hard it was for Robert to entertain the idea of trusting anyone, much less a woman.”

  “How did you get so smart?” Grace sniffed, a weak smile crossing her face.

  “Years of living with your mother. Take the time you need, but don’t take more. I should know. Time is precious.”

  “Are you speaking about you and Stella?”

 
“I guess so. I’m not saying your mother wasn’t the best thing I ever had. She was, just as you felt Victor was, but they’re both gone and we have to see others as a gift while we live out our last days, don’t you see?”

  Grace walked around the table and kissed his half-bald head. “Yes, I do see. I love you. Thanks, Pop. Why don’t you ask Robert to come along tomorrow? I’ll be all right with that.”

  Owen squeezed Grace’s hand resting on his shoulder in response. “I love you too, daughter.”

  The Saturday ride to the hot springs wasn’t long, just fifteen miles south of Bozeman. Robert had agreed to come along, and Owen had given him the reins of the carriage, so Grace sat behind them. Neither she nor Robert gave one another direct eye contact, but her mind was saying a lot—just not out loud. In fact, she was deciding she would try to find a time when she could talk to him alone.

  “I sure am glad Eli let you off today. I know Saturday’s a busy day at the store,” Owen said.

  “It is usually, but Tom will pitch in and do whatever he can to help. Tom is a lot smarter than I used to credit him. He’s been reading some of those books of Stella’s on medical stuff. At least it’s keeping him outta trouble.”

  Grace listened to the conversation without adding to it, studying the back of Robert’s broad shoulders, his taut muscles pulling his shirt tight against him. Working on the farm had toned his muscles, and he looked leaner than when she first saw him. He sure wasn’t afraid of hard work—but what impressed her most now was he seemed to genuinely care about all the children like they were his. She not only saw this, but also heard it in his voice just now when he talked about Tom. Her heart lifted and she was reminded how God answers prayers. Now, as they traveled to the springs for her father, she prayed silently that the minerals from the waters would be beneficial to his weakened body.

  “We’re here.” Robert slowed the horses to a walk as they came upon crude wooden buildings hastily constructed for patrons of the springs. He found a spot where several other wagons, carriages, and a couple of horses stood tethered.

  Robert helped them both alight, then picked up the carpetbag holding the men’s change of clothing. Grace saw a sign posted on the porch that read ENTER HERE. From somewhere behind the building, voices could be heard that she assumed were patrons “taking the waters”—the term Dr. Avery had used.