Saving Grace

by Carolyn Davidson

  “Best idea I’ve had in a month of Sundays,” Simon replied, his eyes warm as he looked across the table at the young woman they were discussing. “Has she—”

  “You betcha she has, and I’ve got a list already of what food we’ll need for the reception, and some ideas about a dress for her,” Ethel said, laughing at the look of bewilderment on Simon’s face, as he recognized a woman with a plan.

  “I’ll leave it in your capable hands, then,” Simon told her. “I’ve wired my bishop, asking him to come here a week from Saturday.”

  He looked at Grace then and his smile was coaxing. “I want to let my parents know right away, so they can make plans to come for the wedding. Will you go with me to the telegraph office so we can send a wire?”

  “You know I will, Simon. Just say the word,” Grace told him, her heart racing as the whirlwind caught her up, for Simon was apparently a man who believed in moving right along.

  “We’ll walk to town tomorrow and then pick out a ring at the Emporium on the way home. All right?” he asked, grinning widely as though he was certain of Grace’s compliance. And she could only nod, for her heart was too full to utter a word.

  The man who approached the parsonage late the next afternoon was tall, a bit heavyset and past his prime. Simon watched him as he stepped onto the small porch, and, hidden behind the white lace curtains in the parlor, recognizing him from Grace’s description.

  “Looks like Grace’s uncle has come calling,” he said in an undertone as his housekeeper walked past the parlor. “Be sure that Grace stays in her room, please.” The sharp knock on the front door was repeated before Ethel could reach it and Simon frowned at the caller’s impatience. In moments the man was ushered into the parlor, and he stood just inside the doorway and gave Simon a cursory glance.

  “You the minister?” he asked abruptly.

  “I’m the Reverend Simon Grafton.” His words of introduction were clear and precise as Simon faced the man. “And you are…perhaps Grace Benson’s uncle?”

  “That’s me, young man. I heard word around town that you might know the whereabouts of my niece. Is that so?”

  Simon nodded slowly. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  Joe Cumberland looked impatient with the answer he obviously considered not to be information enough. “Well, where is she, Reverend?”

  “To be very frank with you, sir, your niece would rather not be found right now. She took quite a beating from one of your ranch hands and she doesn’t want to chance him finding her again. She’s in a safe place for now.”

  “The man denies he hurt her. Foolish girl should have taken Kenny up on his proposal. He wanted to do the right thing and marry her and she was too uppity to accept him. About time she got married and had a family, if you ask me. She’s well beyond the age of a girl getting settled.”

  “I’ve spoken about that very thing to your niece, sir, and I’m happy to tell you that she is about a week and a half from becoming my wife. The decision was made by the young lady, herself. I honestly don’t think that a violent man such as Kenny is fit to be a husband for any young, gently reared woman. If you had seen Grace after that man assaulted her, you might have a different slant on things. The bottom line is this. I hope you’ll accept Grace’s decision to marry me. She fits my idea of a wife to be proud of, and I’ve vowed to take care of her and be a good husband to her.”

  “So far as Kenny’s actions are concerned, it’s his word against hers,” Joe said harshly. “I’ve found Kenny to be a good worker and he’s a bit impatient, I agree, but he means well, and Grace simply wasn’t willing to listen to him. I came to ask her to come back to my ranch and settle down, and then spend some time with the man. Once he realizes she’s come home, I’m sure he’ll make a return, too. She might find him more to her liking if she gives him a chance. And she left me in the lurch, what with not having a cook, when she left so quick like. I think she needs to face her obligation to me and return to the ranch and live there. Give Kenny a chance to court her and get to know him. The man is intent on offering her marriage and I approve of him as a husband for her.”

  “We differ there, sir. She’s not of that opinion, and with good reason. She’s frightened of Kenny and unwilling to ever allow him near her again. She’s given me her pledge in answer to my proposal and I hope you’ll accept that.”

  “Well, I’m the man responsible for the girl and I’m demanding you tell me where she is,” Joe said, his hands clenched at his sides, as if he would welcome a physical confrontation.

  Simon shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m pledged to secrecy in this case. If and when Grace wants to return to your home, I’ll bring her there to visit with you. But so long as you employ Kenny, I don’t see that happening.”

  Joe’s face turned red with anger. “I’ll find out where you’ve stashed her, young man. And Kenny told me after you shot him that he was gonna file charges against you for assault. When Judge Hale comes to town, we’ll see what he has to say about this.”

  “I’d like to see him file charges. And the sheriff would definitely like to see Kenny in the flesh. He’d slap him in a cell in no time. Charlie came to your ranch yesterday looking for Kenny and you said he wasn’t to be found. The sheriff has seen Miss Benson and agrees that the physical violence visited upon her warrants a jail cell for Mr. Summers. You’d best turn him in instead of defending the man.

  “I’ll tell you now that Grace is under my protection, sir. You’ll be happy to know that when Grace sought sanctuary here, she was given a free rein to make decisions about her future.”

  Joe turned and stomped from the parsonage, leaving Simon in the parlor, his housekeeper watching from the hallway.

  “He’s a harsh man, Pastor,” Ethel said with a frown. “That young woman is better off where she is, I’d say.”

  “In our guest room?” Simon asked, his smile wide.

  Ethel nodded. “Well, if the girl ever has a problem with him, we’re of the same mind, I think. I’m more than willing to defend her. I’m a good one with that shotgun in the pantry and I’m a decent chaperone, I’d say. She’ll be safe in this house.”

  “We’ll manage to guarantee that, but we need to keep the law in the picture. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sheriff Wilson didn’t see Grace’s uncle here, but if not, I need to let him know,” Simon told her.

  His visit with the sheriff would be short, Simon decided as he walked quickly down the street to where the jailhouse sat, across from the hotel. The door was open, the day being a fine one, and Charlie Wilson stood just inside. He nodded at Simon and waved at the chair, a tacit invitation for the visitor to sit down.

  Simon shook his head. “I’ll only be a moment. Just wanted you to know I just had a visit from Grace Benson’s uncle. He was most adamant about finding his niece and taking her home with him. I told him Grace and I were planning a wedding and the Summers fellow was completely out of the picture.”

  “I’d say congratulations are in order, Simon,” the sheriff said with a grin. “You’re getting a fine young lady. Just don’t let that girl out of your sight, Preacher. I was about to take a walk over to see you. There’s trouble in town. One of the ladies over at the saloon had a run-in with a man. The bartender was here and told me Belle’s pretty well beat up and bloody. Seems one of her customers got pretty rough with her.”

  “Do they have any idea who the man was, Charlie?” Simon asked.

  “I’m going to speak with her when she’s able and find out what she knows,” the lawman answered. “I’ll let you know what I hear, but the bartender said the fella was a regular customer.”

  “Perhaps I should stop by and see her later on,” Simon offered. “If it should turn out to be the Summers fella, it’ll be another strike against him.”

  “That’s for certain,” the sheriff agreed, standing and offering his hand to Simon as the younger man clapped his hat on his head and went out the door.

  Chapter Five

 
Simon went into the house, his gaze sweeping the parlor as he stood in the wide doorway, his eyes focused on Grace. “I’ve heard some bad news,” he said, knowing that his face was somber. He didn’t have it in his heart to try for a cheerful demeanor.

  Grace lost her smile as he spoke and a shiver traveled through her. “I think I may already know what the problem is, Simon.”

  Ethel came into the parlor as Grace spoke. “Have you heard the news, Simon? Our neighbor ran in for a minute this afternoon and told us one of the women over at the saloon has been attacked and hurt pretty bad. Did the sheriff tell you about it?”

  Simon nodded. “I heard it from Charlie Wilson. He told me he’s on the lookout for the man, and I’m sure you can guess who his prime suspect is. He’s going to talk to Belle and the bartender and see if they are willing to identify the fella.”

  He turned to Grace then. “Let’s go for a walk, sweetheart. I need to talk to you.” Grace nodded, and followed him out the door into the backyard. The sun was nearing the horizon, the sky fading into the colors of twilight.

  They walked slowly into the orchard, where the blossoms had been falling to the ground, the spring breeze blowing them from the trees all day long. It was like a fairyland with the grass barely peeking through the pale blossoms, the scent of springtime surrounding them. They walked to the end of the stand of trees, to where the fence enclosed the lush grasses of the field, where only a narrow path led to the stream behind the house.

  “I’ve been talking to the sheriff, Grace. I’m worried about your safety, so long as there’s a madman on the loose.” He turned her to face him and held her in a loose embrace, aware of her body trembling against his. “When the sheriff told me about the attack on Belle over at the saloon I could only be thankful that it wasn’t you who’d been so terribly used.”

  Grace leaned against him, relishing the solid feel of him, the warmth of his embrace. She felt driven to confide in him, to be honest about the experiences in her past, when she was younger and her parents were still alive, even though he might look askance at her. Her words were slow, almost a whisper as she began.

  “Simon, I fear that here, inside me, I’m not a gentlewoman, such as would make a good wife for you. For there were times in my past, when I was but a young girl, barely out of pinafores and aprons, when I found myself a target for several of the young men in our town. They told me I was pretty, and I knew their eyes spent a lot of time looking me over sometimes. It made me feel self-conscious, as if I’d dressed in such a way as to invite their attentions. And I hadn’t, Simon. I swear to you I was modest and tried my best to act as a lady should. But apparently some of the older fellows thought their liking me was reason enough to deserve my company. I found myself many times going home early from the Grange or a church social, because I feared the attentions of the young men. I must have somehow made them think I was available for their nonsense, for they pestered me, trying to…”

  Simon shook his head, holding her before him, the better to speak his thoughts, and his smile was gentle as he looked down at the fragile beauty in his arms. “I almost sympathize with them, Grace. You have a lovely face and form. You’re the most appealing woman I’ve ever known. That the young men chased after you doesn’t make you less than you are. The poor lads no doubt spent sleepless nights dreaming of you, for you are a beautiful woman, and they were only human.”

  He drew in a breath and his arms tightened around her, holding her firmly against his body, her hips pressed to his, her soft breasts cushioned against his firm chest.

  “Perhaps I’m of the same sort, but I’ve never meant to insult you with my advances, Grace, for I wouldn’t do anything to cause you to fear me. Yet, I can understand how the young men of your community felt. There is about you a loveliness that would draw any man to you.”

  She tilted her head back and met his gaze, her eyes blurred with the tears that would not be halted. “Thank you for your words, Simon. But again, I’m fearful of being less than the woman you think dwells within the shell you see before you. I’m not feeling like much of a lady right now for I’ve been wishing for your arms to hold me, Simon. I think about you so much, when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up in the morning. In fact, it seems that you’re in my mind all day—”

  “You’re such an innocent, Grace. I doubt you have any idea how badly I want you and how I’m counting the hours until our wedding. I’d thought to take it slowly and spend weeks in walking by your side, talking of my prospects and finding out more about you. Instead I’ve talked you into a wedding and used my fears for your well-being to coax you into my plans. I want to spend all the hours of the day with you, Grace. I can’t wait to make you my wife. Your uncle was here and I told him of our plans. He didn’t like it. If I didn’t feel I have to let my parents know, I fear I’d rush you to my church’s headquarters and have the bishop perform a ceremony posthaste. I want this wedding more than you can imagine.”

  Grace frowned at his words. “I wouldn’t really mind that, Simon, but I fear your mother and father might want you to marry someone they know. Perhaps a girl from your hometown. Someone they’ve thought of as a perfect wife for you.”

  He laughed, swinging her from her feet. “No, they’ll be pleased that I’ve found you, for my mother has been after me for months, telling me it was time to marry and begin a family of my own. And I know they’ll love you and think you a perfect choice.” His eyes sparkled as he set her back down, holding her until she caught her balance. And then he sobered suddenly, his heart aching as he saw tears on her cheeks.

  “You’re crying, Grace.” His fingers lifted to her face and he wiped away the evidence of dampness that lingered there.

  She swallowed her sobs, her words muffled against his shirtfront. “I want so badly to be the right woman for you. I don’t know if I can act and speak and dress as a minister’s wife should. I have no idea how to be what you need for I can only be as I am. And as for my tears, they are but tears of joy, Simon,” she whispered. Her heart was so full, it felt as if it might burst within her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tightly. “I didn’t know that I could feel this way about a man. I’ve never known anyone like you, and never has any man made me yearn for his touch as you do. What if your bishop doesn’t approve of me? What if he doesn’t think I’m good enough to fill the position of wife to you?”

  “Don’t think that for a minute, sweetheart. He’ll think you’re a fine, upright girl, a real addition to my parsonage.” His arms tightened around her and his kisses warmed her until she pressed herself against his muscular form.

  Simon was tempted mightily. His breathing was harsh, his need for her almost more than he could keep under control. She was slender, yet her body was lush and ripe, and he inhaled deeply, his mind filled with her scent, the aroma of flowers and the soap she’d used. The reins of his control threatened to slide from his grasp but he would not, could not do as he yearned. For the privileges he craved were not his to claim just yet. He trembled with the desire to possess the girl he held in his arms and struggled with the cravings of his body.

  The sun had gone down and twilight settled around them as they walked back toward the house. Simon led her up the path and onto the porch where he opened the door, ushering her into the kitchen. The lamp was turned down low and he lifted the globe to blow it out before they walked down the hallway to the parlor. It, too, was empty, for it was apparent that Ethel had gone to her room.

  “I think we were wise to come inside, Grace. I wanted to be in the house before night fell.”

  He lit the small lamp on the parlor table, then carrying it in one hand, led her to her room, holding the door open until she lit her candle. She turned and walked back to where he stood in the doorway. Her hands reached for him, settling on his shoulders, and he looked down at her with a warmth she could almost feel, so warm and tender were his eyes, so happy the smile he wore. She lifted on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, only to be halted by the
hand that was not holding the lamp.

  “You won’t get away so easily, sweetheart,” he said, bending to press his lips against hers, his free arm circling her waist. His lips were firm, his need apparent, as he felt his heartbeat thunder in his chest. She was soft against him, and he ached to touch her, to caress her and taste the sweetness of her skin. But it was not to be, here in the doorway of her bedroom, with Ethel in the house. Reining in his desire, he released her from his hold and she stepped back, seemingly reluctant to end the kiss he’d instigated.

  But he gritted his teeth and bowed his head. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be up early and put wood in the cookstove for you.” His head lifted, his eyes touched her face, seeming to capture her very essence as he examined each feature. “Good night, Grace.”

  “Good night,” she answered, wondering how it would be when she went with him into his bedroom each night and they slept together on that wide bed. And for her thoughts felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks. Almost as if he knew the images that flitted through her mind, he leaned closer and his words were a temptation in her ear.

  “It won’t be long now. Just another week.” His hand touched her shoulder and brushed across the fullness of her breast as he turned from her. And for that he would not apologize, he decided firmly. It was the least bit of comfort he could gain from this encounter, and he would cherish the scant second of warmth he’d felt as his fingers touched the rise of her bosom.

  Grace stiffened and stepped back from him, her face crimson.

  “Grace, we’re going to be married. Surely I can be forgiven for an innocent touch.” Simon looked down at her, watching her as she blushed all the more and ducked her head before she managed a reply.

  “After we’re married, I suppose it won’t be an issue. But right now, I’m not ready to accept—”

  “You have my apology, then, sweetheart. I wouldn’t cause you embarrassment for anything in the world.”