Saving Grace

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Saving Grace Page 4

by Carolyn Davidson


  “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean to bring back memories that would upset you,” he said, his hand touching her shoulder, and then falling away, as if he feared being too forward.

  She turned to him quickly. “Oh, no. I’m not upset about my memories, but I find I still tend to be a bit weepy when I talk about my family. It was awfully hard to accept that they were gone after the fire, and I truly grieved, knowing I’d never see them again. If I hadn’t been visiting with my friend, who knows what might have happened to me, for I’d have been caught by the flames, too.”

  “There’s a reason for everything that happens, Grace,” Simon told her, his arm lifting to enclose her shoulders as she wept. “We may not understand why things happen the way they do, but I’m a firm believer that there is a plan for each of our lives, and that ultimately, we have no control over those things that change our circumstances.”

  She turned her head and her gaze touched his. “Thank you, Simon. I appreciate your kindness. I have good memories about my family and our home, and I try to concentrate on those instead of mourning.”

  “You’re a brave girl. You have my admiration,” he said, his big hand squeezing her shoulder in comfort. “I find myself drawn to you, Grace. I don’t want to be too bold or forward with you, but I must tell you that you appeal to me on many levels. In fact, I’d like you to consider me as more than a friend.”

  Her breath seemed to stop for a moment, as if she were stunned, and then she lifted her head, her gaze meeting his for a moment. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, Simon, but I’d think being friends would be best for both of us right now. I would hope I haven’t placed you in an uncomfortable position. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated to me, or think it’s necessary to court me because you’ve been landed with the responsibility of looking out for me.”

  “That doesn’t enter into it, Grace, but if you’re satisfied with a friendship between us, I’ll bow to your needs in this. Just know that I would never choose a wife strictly because I felt a responsibility toward her,” Simon said quietly. “I only want you to understand that I admire you, that I am very attracted to you. My mother has long been after me to find a wife, and until now I’ve not seen a woman who appealed to me as a bride. Not until I brought you into my home and found that you fit well here. I won’t tell you I’m in love with you for I have no intention of lying to you in any way. But I can say, very truthfully, that you make me yearn to know you better. I fear I’m smitten with you, as the ladies back home used to say when a young man trailed around behind a young lady and obviously admired her.”

  Grace chuckled softly at his words, her head bowed, as if she would hide her face and thoughts from him. And so they sat together for long minutes, Grace seeming to soak up his warmth, Simon aching to bend closer to the girl beside him, yearning to press his lips against her forehead, longing to touch the fine skin of her temple. For he was well and truly caught up in the spell of her femininity. As if she were meant to be in his life at this time and in this place, he felt a kinship with her. But as he’d told her, if friendship was what she wanted from him, he would oblige her.

  She looked up at him and her smile was once more that which he’d seen before: a welcoming gesture of warmth he accepted gladly. “I appreciate you, Simon. And Ethel, as well. She’s a nice lady and she’s been ever so kind. She brings to mind my aunt Sadie, my father’s sister, who died several years ago. When I saw Ethel, it made me feel somehow as if I’d come home again.”

  “That’s how I want you to feel, Grace. As though this place is home to you. If you decide to do otherwise than to stay here, sometime in the future, it will be all right, but for now, I want you to consider this your home. If you want to go back to your uncle Joe’s place sometime to visit, I’ll take you. But you’re welcome here. I hope you know that.”

  She sighed. “I do. I really do. And I don’t know if I could ever go back to Uncle Joe’s ranch. I felt like a fish out of water there, with all those menfolk around and only a housekeeper to speak with. I’d feel more comfortable if he came to see me here.”

  Simon’s heart lifted, and he couldn’t help but smile at her. She was so honest and forthright, so open in her words and actions. He hadn’t been impressed with a woman to this extent in a long time.

  For even in his younger years, his thoughts had been on his education, not the females in his circle. But not so, now. So he spoke quickly, before he lost his courage.

  “I have to tell you that I’m drawn to you, Grace, as a man is to a woman he’d like to court. I know we haven’t had any time together to speak of, hardly know each other really, but I’m a man who makes up his mind in a hurry. And I’ve seemed to settle on you. You are all I’ve ever looked for in a woman, and I want you to know that my thoughts are centered on making you a part of my life. Can you consider it, having known me for mere days? Am I rushing you too much, or perhaps frightening you?”

  She shook her head. “No, you don’t frighten me. Perhaps I’ve also looked for a person I could come to care for. You are a wonderful man, Simon, and I feel…fond of you already. Just know that I have no fear of your feelings and I’ll consider you in that light.”

  He smiled, a warmth radiating from his face as he spoke. “It’s exactly what I have in mind, Grace.” He bent then, his mouth touching her brow, sliding to her temple and thus to her cheek. “You smell warm and sweet, Grace. I can’t help but want to kiss you, but I wouldn’t insult you for one minute.”

  “You haven’t, Simon.” Her face was rosy, warm from the pleasure of his kisses, and she could not help but smile at him. “I’m not fond of the idea of kissing, for I’ve met more than one man who felt it was his right to put his hands on me if I’d allowed him to walk me home after an event at church or if he’d spent an afternoon on my porch back home. But I find that you are different than most of the men I’ve known in the past, more genteel perhaps, a gentleman in your behavior. I don’t feel that I must defend myself from you, for there is no fear of you in my mind.”

  Simon gently bent to place his lips against hers, his arms circling her waist as he held her a bit closer to himself. The kiss was brief, but he held her even after his lips lifted from hers. “You smell of flowers, Grace. Fresh and sweet.”

  She knew she was blushing, feeling flustered by his touch. “I’m going in the house now. I’m not certain that we’ve just held to the limit of friendship in the past few minutes, Simon. And I told Ethel I’d fix supper tonight. It’s time to begin putting things together,” she said, rising from the step beside him and walking across the porch.

  Simon rose quickly, reaching ahead of her and opening the door for her to go into the kitchen. “And I’m going to take my horse back to the livery stable,” he said, thinking of the gelding he’d tied to the front gate and then ignored until this minute.

  Grace nodded quickly, her eyes shining in the late-afternoon sunlight. “You’d better hurry and take care of your horse, Simon. Get him settled in his stall with his supper.”

  He clapped his hat on his head and grinned at her. “I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t work too hard, ma’am.”

  Her smile was answer enough, he decided as he went around the corner of the parsonage and down the front walk to where his patient gelding awaited him.

  He met two gentlemen from his congregation on his way back from the livery stable and made it his business to explain to them about his houseguest. He was brief and to the point, assuring them that his housekeeper was keeping Grace company, and was met by their guarded approval. It seemed that they found it only fitting that a young woman whose life was in jeopardy should take shelter in their parsonage. With a clap on his shoulder, Simon found himself congratulated on his actions in defending her and offering her a temporary place to stay.

  “Maybe the good Lord sent her to you, Reverend,” one of them said with a sly grin. “It’s about time for you to be taking a bride, ain’t it?”

  Simon laughed. “So my mother tells me
. And per haps she’s right. I’ll have to consider that Grace came to me at an opportune time in my life.” With hearty farewells ringing in his ears, he made his way back to the parsonage. Bemused, yet made more confident by their attitude, he made haste to gain sight of his home, but met the sheriff before he’d gone far.

  Lifting a hand in greeting, the lawman stopped him. “I’m going out for another try at picking up the Summers fella, Reverend. Sure hope I can get my hands on him this time, for I’m gonna feel a lot better once I slap him in a cell.”

  Simon breathed a sigh of relief as he walked to his back door and stood on the porch. Grace was busy at the stove and he watched her through the screen door for a few moments, caught by her movements in his kitchen. She was elegance personified, he decided, his gaze caught by her swishing skirts and the sound of her humming beneath her breath.

  He opened the screen door and she turned quickly, her eyes lighting up as she smiled at him. “I’m making beef stew and dumplings for supper,” she said, picking up two thick pot holders as she opened the oven door, her hand testing the degree of heat within before she closed it again.

  She slid the Dutch oven from the back of the stove to a front burner and removed the lid, then picked up a bowl from the table. She scooped biscuit dough out of it by the spoonful, adding it to the bubbling gravy in the large pan before her, then replaced the lid atop the dumplings. A savory scent arose from the pan that drew Simon closer to her, and he inhaled deeply, signifying his approval of her work. Without hesitation, he bent to open the oven door, stepping back as she lifted the stew pot and settled it in the depths of the oven.

  Grace stepped to the sink to wash her hands, then returned to the table, unconsciously lifting her hand to touch the swelling where hard knuckles had caught her cheekbone, for it had begun to throb when she bent low over the oven. A quick glance in Simon’s direction made her rue the gesture, for he flinched, as if her pain were his own.

  “He had no right to touch you, Grace.”

  “I know. But I still feel like I might have led him on in some way. I certainly didn’t mean to, Simon, for I tried to ignore him as much as I could. Uncle Joe was pushing me to find a man and get married, and I suppose he thought Kenny was the one I should accept. Heaven knows the man made his intentions clear.”

  “Did he ask you to marry him?” Simon asked.

  She laughed, a derisive sound. “In a roundabout way. He said I’d never get a better offer. That I was just a poor relation to Uncle Joe and he’d probably be glad to have me settled with a husband, so he wouldn’t have to be responsible for me anymore.”

  Simon shook his head. “I doubt your uncle felt that way, Grace.”

  “Perhaps he did, Simon. He seemed to be pushing me at Kenny, even offered Kenny a small cabin on the ranch if I married him. I thought I was earning my keep, doing the cooking and my share of the chores, but perhaps it wasn’t enough to please Uncle Joe.”

  “You did the cooking for his crew of men?” Simon asked.

  “Yes, for Uncle Joe and six ranch hands. The housekeeper did the rest around the house, but once I arrived, Uncle Joe said I should cook. My mama made sure I knew my way around a kitchen by the time I was sixteen, so I managed pretty well.”

  “That was a lot of responsibility for a young woman, I’d say. I’d think your uncle would have kept you apart from his workers. He should have taken better care of you. Did he give you a wage for the work you did, Grace?”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “Why, no, of course not. He gave me a home and a room to call my own. I suspect he thought I owed him my work in return.”

  “Then how did you manage to buy clothing or anything else a woman might need?”

  “I didn’t. I just got along with what I had. And I don’t want you to think I’m complaining, Simon, for I appreciated Uncle Joe. I just didn’t feel he understood me very well.”

  “You need new clothing, Grace. I’m taking you to the general store to find a couple of dresses and anything else you need. You can consider your work here as my payment. And I won’t take no for an answer. We’re going now, in fact.”

  Even as he spoke, he hustled her to the front door, and with a nod at his housekeeper to take over the cooking, he escorted Grace down the walk and along the road to the general store. They found themselves the center of attention as they entered, with several of the town’s ladies doing their shopping.

  “Hello there, Reverend,” one woman called out from the back of the store, to which Simon nodded and smiled, his hand on Grace’s back as he led her to the wide walnut counter where the proprietor’s wife awaited them.

  “What can I get you, Reverend?” she asked, looking at Grace with interest.

  Simon spoke simply and briefly. “This is Grace Benson, Joe Cumberland’s niece. She’s staying at the parsonage with myself and Mrs. Anderson, and she finds herself in need of some clothing. I fear she came to us unexpectedly and has a limited wardrobe. Can you take care of the situation, ma’am?”

  “Why of course I can. Why don’t you just go over and have a seat, maybe find part of the newspaper to read. It just arrived here an hour or so ago, so it’s still in one piece. I’ll just take care of Grace here.”

  She bent closer to Grace, her voice soft, as if she did not want to be overheard. “You just put yourself in my hands, dearie. We’ll find you some dresses and all that goes with them. I’m sure you’ll earn your way at the parsonage, helping out in the kitchen and especially in the garden. Young bones find it easier to kneel and pull weeds than older ladies can handle. Ethel Anderson is a good worker but I’m sure she can use your help.”

  She lifted several glass containers from the shelves behind her and held up garments for Grace’s approval. “Here’s a nice pink-checked dress, good enough for church on Sunday, or just to wear when you’re on the porch swing of an evening.”

  She investigated the contents of another container and placed a petticoat on the counter, then two vests and two pair of drawers on top of it. “You can get along with but one petticoat, so long as you have vests and drawers to wear beneath it,” she said nicely, shaking out the batiste fabric and showing Grace the lace that edged the neckline and shoulders.

  “And here’s another dress, more of an everyday thing to wear when you’re in the kitchen or out in the garden,” she said, holding up a darker print, green with daisies blooming across the skirt. “You’ll still look nice, even when you’re working.”

  “That’s enough,” Grace said quietly. “I don’t want to run up a bill with you, for I only need some stockings and a pair of soft shoes for in the house. I have outdoor shoes and an old dress to wear in the garden.”

  “Well, then, let’s just add one more thing. Here’s a nice nightie, cotton, not too sheer, but sorta dainty-looking for a girl like you to sleep in.” She held up a long gown, smocked across the bodice, and buttoned with small pearl fastenings down the front.

  “This may be too much, ma’am,” Grace said, her eyes wide as she looked at the items on the counter.

  And then from across the store, Simon called out politely. “Make sure she has enough to wear, and an extra pair of shoes, ma’am. You decide for her, for Grace won’t spend money freely.”

  “I think we have it about solved, Reverend. Do you want to take a look at what we’ve chosen for her? I’ll find a pair of house shoes to fit her now.”

  Simon shook his head as he approached the counter. “No, I’ll trust your judgment. If you’ll put this on my bill, we’ll settle for it later.”

  Within moments she had found a pair of soft shoes for Grace to wear inside the house and added them to the rest of her choices. “That’s fine, Reverend. I’ll just bundle everything up for you.” And within minutes, she’d done just that, sliding the package across the counter to Simon, who accepted it with a nod of thanks.

  Simon took Grace’s arm as they walked back to the parsonage. “Are you sure you got everything you need?” he asked.

 
She nodded, her throat filling with tears as she thought of his kindness. “You’re a good man, Simon. Your mama must have raised you right,” she said after a moment, and then was all too aware of the eyes that touched upon the two of them as they walked down the road. Her relief was great when they were once more inside the walls of the parsonage and she spent a happy half hour showing Ethel the clothing Simon had purchased for her.

  “He did well,” Ethel said finally. “You’ll be able to go from one wash day to another without any trouble. Did you get some drawers?” she asked quietly as she looked over the pile of clothing.

  Grace lifted the petticoat and showed Ethel the two pairs of drawers that had been included in the purchase. “I didn’t need so much, but Simon insisted,” she said ruefully.

  “He did just right,” Ethel said stoutly. “You needed every single thing you brought home with you.”

  “It didn’t seem right to have a man buying clothing for me. It was sort of like he was responsible for me, Ethel. And I don’t want him to feel that he is.”

  “He’s taken on the job of looking after you, Grace. Let the man enjoy it.”

  “Enjoy it?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting.

  “Exactly. The man is looking after you, just as he should. You’re a guest in his home and he’s sure enough planning on making your presence here a permanent thing, unless I’m missing my guess.”

  Simon came into the kitchen, causing Grace to wrap her clothing in a flurry of brown paper, lest he catch sight of the unmentionables she’d shown to Ethel. Ignoring her flustered movements, he spoke quietly.

  “I talked to the sheriff a few minutes ago, Grace. He came by and said he’s on his way out to look for Kenny Summers again. When Judge Hale comes through on his regular schedule, the Summers fellow will face him if he can be found before then.”

  It was later that evening, supper dishes done and the kitchen cleaned, when Charlie showed up at the parsonage again, and his news was far from reassuring. It seemed that when he’d gone to pick up Kenny at Joe’s ranch, the man was still nowhere to be found. A thorough search of the bunkhouse and barns came up empty, and the men who were questioned swore they had no knowledge of his whereabouts. He had disappeared and apparently without a trace.

 

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