by Mary Manners
“Rachel?”
“An appaloosa gelding. She’s a bit shy, and as gentle as the day is long. She doesn’t take very well to strangers, but I think she’ll warm up to you nicely when she finally gets to meet you.”
“Can we go to the stable now?” Grace asked. “I’d like to see her.”
Brent angled his head so his eyes shone like two cups of rich mocha in the moonlight streaming through the windshield. He took one hand from the steering wheel and stroked Grace’s hair. “Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because…I want to ask you something.”
“Oh?” The touch of his fingers warmed her skin, yet Grace shivered. A ribbon of cool night air rushed through the window she’d cracked to let in the calming song of the creek. “What, Brent?”
He hesitated only a moment. “Do you still love him, Grace? Do you still love…Dan?”
“I…” His question drove the breath from her. She stumbled over words that needed to be said and fidgeted with the door latch. “He…was Adam’s father.”
“I know that.” Brent refused to let her go. He twined his fingers in her hair and drew her gaze back to him. “But do you still love him?”
“I don’t know…” She lowered her gaze and pressed a hand to her mouth. “I don’t know what I feel, Brent. It’s…complicated.”
“I understand that. It’s not supposed to be easy, Grace.” He waited a moment, then pressed a finger to her chin and tilted her head so their gazes locked. His voice was gentle, his touch tender. “But I need to know…is there room in your heart, Grace, for me?”
“I…don’t know what to say.” Tears filled her eyes as she pulled away and turned to stare out the passenger window. In the distance, the Smoky Mountains loomed over a trio of deer as they foraged the pasture beneath a clearing, starlit sky. Her heart did a funny little dance, and she felt the warmth of moisture dampen her palms. Suddenly the cab seemed stifling, and her breath came in jagged gasps. “I’m…sorry, Brent.”
“Why?” His voice held a tinge of hurt laced with frustration, yet his touch remained gentle as he brushed his knuckles down the length of her arm. “Tell me, please.”
A lump formed in her throat, and it took a moment to work the words around it. Emotions tumbled through her like a river rushing downstream. “Because I’ve ruined everything.”
“It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.” He touched her shoulder, stroked a tear-stained cheek. “God can fix even the most broken…if you’ll let him. I’m proof of that, Grace.”
“Yes.” Grace dabbed fingertips over her damp eyes and sniffled.
Brent had taken a detour to the wild side the summer following their senior year when his parents announced they were getting divorced. She’d been lost in her own grief, having just buried her own parents, and newly-married to a man she barely knew and with a baby on the way.
She hardly remembered the middle-of-the-night call from the hospital after Brent crashed his Mustang on the I-75 overpass through Knoxville while doing nearly double the speed limit. It was a miracle he’d walked away from it with nothing more than a few broken ribs and half-a-dozen stitches laced across his forehead.
Soon after, he’d stopped by to thank her one final time and to say he was leaving for college. The loss of him had jarred her in a way she hadn’t expected…or wanted. She felt the same way now…like a puzzle with a couple of pieces missing and the rest jostled out of place, miserably scrambled.
Except this time, she knew who held the pieces she was missing, and who could help her make everything fit together again.
He was sitting beside her, soothing her raw emotions with a gentle touch and an encouraging word.
Brent.
Grace's Gold
4
“Go, Adam!” Brent smiled as he watched Grace cup her hands around her mouth and holler into the breeze. He thought, with her hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail and the collar of her jacket turned up to protect from a cool breeze, that she’d never looked more beautiful. “Take it all the way to the goal!”
“Adam!” Brent jammed two fingers in his mouth and whistled beside her. “Go, champ! You can do it.”
Adam’s little legs scrambled down the field, carrying him around pint-sized opponents who jostled and fought to claim possession of the ball. He aimed for the goal and gave the ball a wallop with one cleated shoe. A hush was followed by a cheer as the ball sailed over the head of a goalie clad in a tie-dyed jersey that hung down to his shins.
“You did it!” Tears filled Grace’s eyes as she clapped wildly. “What a marvelous first goal, Adam. Good job!”
Sunlight glinted off Adam’s mop of hair as he rushed to the sideline for a round of high-fives. “Did you see me, Mr. Brent?”
“I sure did, champ. That was a textbook move.”
“What’s that mean?” Adam’s gap-toothed grin was contagious.
“It was good…smooth.” Brent smiled and mussed Adam’s sweat-dampened hair. “Now get back on the field. The coach is calling you. Can’t keep the game—or your team—waiting.”
“Oh, yeah.” Adam spun on his cleats. “Watch me, Mr. Brent,” he hollered as he sprinted across the field.
“I’m watching.” Brent sighed and waited for Grace to slip back into the bleacher seat beside him. The scent of her perfume mingled with falling leaves and charcoal from a grill that had been lit at the concession stand. He turned to face her. “Adam’s going to be some player, you know.”
“He takes after Dan in that department.” Grace smoothed her windbreaker and sipped coffee from a foam cup. “Dan was always so sure of himself on the field, so focused. He just seemed to feel a play, to sense how to move—when to move and where.”
“You’re right.” Brent nodded slightly, trying to tamp down a nip of envy. “Dan was a great athlete.”
“He sacrificed a lot to stay with me—to try to make a good life for Adam.”
“I know.” Brent had to admit, while most guys would have turned tail and fled at the sound of marriage—especially in the situation Dan Turner found himself in—Dan rose to the challenge. He passed on an athletic scholarship and settled for a full-time construction job instead. The decision had forged a wedge between him and his parents that never had the chance to heal.
“It might have turned out OK, if not for the accident…” Grace murmured.
Brent didn’t want to imagine Grace still married to Dan. That was the past…he was ready to move forward. But was Grace? He shifted on the bench and cleared his throat. “What’s in there?” He pointed to the crisp white bakery sack perched on Grace’s lap. “A few slices of that gold cake I sampled the other day, I hope?”
“Maybe.” Grace grinned and handed him the bag. “Is that what you’d wish for?”
“Yeah.” He delved in and grinned with satisfaction. “Best stuff I’ve tasted in ages.”
“Your wish has come true, then.” She handed him a plastic fork as he unwrapped a slice of the golden cake. “Dig in.”
He swallowed a forkful and moaned as the sweet lemon confection filled his throat. It should be illegal to eat something this sweet so early in the morning. But somehow, the cake was a good fit. “Delicious.”
“Coffee?” She uncapped a stainless-steel thermos and reached for his foam cup.
Brent laughed, but handed the cup to her. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
“I try. It’s a mom thing, I guess.”
“Well, you’re the prettiest mom I know.”
A blush tinged her cheeks. “You must not get out much.”
“Oh, but I do. And you…” He paused and glanced up as Logan and Kate came up the sideline to slide into the bleachers beside them. “Hey, guys.”
“Sorry we’re late.” Kate was pale and breathless. She tossed a stadium blanket onto the bleacher seat. “This morning sickness has thrown me for a loop.”
Logan scooted in beside her, spread a blanket across her lap and patted a knee. “I’m glad
it finally passed.”
“For now.” Kate groaned. She turned to her sister. “Oh, Grace, you had morning sickness almost your entire pregnancy. How did you stand the awful churning in your belly for so many months?”
“Look at my beautiful son.” Grace nodded toward the field, where Adam jogged toward the goal once more. “That’s how I made it through…wondering what he would look like…act like…become.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Kate’s gaze softened. “It doesn’t seem so bad at all.”
Logan leaned over to kiss his wife. “Only seven more months, honey.”
“Easy for you to say.” She grimaced and reached for the bakery sack. “Anything left in here? I’m suddenly craving something sweet.”
“Gold cake,” Brent wondered about the morning sickness. It must have been tough for Grace, going through that without her mother to lean on and Dan gone most of the time. “There’s one more piece.”
“It’s got my name on it.” Kate stuck her hand into the bag and didn’t bother with a fork as she slipped bites of the cake into her mouth with her fingers. “What’s the score?”
“Adam just kicked a goal.” Brent motioned toward the action.
“His first?” Kate followed his gaze, flashing a smile when she saw Adam. “Oh, I’m sorry we missed it.”
“Don’t worry.” Brent nodded toward the end-zone. “If I’m sure of anything at all, the little scrapper has a season full of goals ahead of him.”
****
Grace was glad to find Mattie had a fresh pot of French vanilla coffee and a platter of sandwiches waiting when they returned to the bakery to celebrate after the game. The cool breeze left her chilled.
“I scored two goals, Auntie Tess, but Mr. Brent said it’s not nice to show-show—”
“Showboat,” Brent finished for him, and Grace smiled as she sipped coffee, feeling the chill ease a bit.
“Yeah, that.” Adam spoke around a bite of sandwich. “’Cause it’s not about me, it’s about the team and playing my best all the time.”
“He’s right,” Mattie filled Adam’s cup with milk. “Showboating is prideful. It’s your job to do your best for your team, right?”
“Right.” Adam lifted the cup, sipped, and then swiped a hand across his mouth. He wiggled into Grace’s lap, and she breathed in the scent of grass and sweat that clung to his jersey. “That’s what Mama says, too.”
Brent glanced at Grace over the rim of his cup as he sipped coffee, and his gaze swept the last of the chill from her. Warmth flooded, and she felt her pulse quicken. She added a splash of cream to her coffee as he spoke.
“I think we should serve that gold cake at the gala fundraiser next month. It’s sure to be a hit, along with some of Kate’s kisses.”
“Oh, I do love Katie’s kisses.” Logan leaned in to nip his wife’s lips.
“We’re still discussing the menu,” Grace murmured, diverting her gaze as Tessa laughed and Mattie joined in. Brent’s arm brushed hers as he added a spoonful of sugar to his cup, and she trembled, drawing Adam closer. “We got a little bit…sidetracked last night.”
Sidetracked was an understatement. Brent had taken her to the creek and they’d reminisced a bit beneath a star-filled sky until Grace broke down in tears. Some help she was…bawling like a baby while she was supposed to be brainstorming fundraising ideas with Brent. Somehow, lately, when she was near him her insides turned to jelly. She’d let him down again.
“Why don’t you two spend some time talking now?” Kate suggested. “I’ll help Mattie here at Sweet Treats while Tessa takes Adam home for a nap.”
“Oh, Kate, you aren’t feeling well.” Grace jostled Adam, whose head began to loll with sleepiness, and patted Kate’s shoulder.
“Nonsense.” Kate waggled her fingers. “The nausea’s passed. I’m good for the rest of the day. Besides, Logan’s going to take a look at that oven that’s been overheating so it will be ready to crank out plenty of gold cake for the crisis center’s fundraiser. We’ll be here for a while, anyway.”
Grace shifted her weight in the chair as Adam pressed his cheek to her shoulder. She stroked his back. “Brent probably has plans.”
“Nope.” Brent shook his head. “The gala fundraiser’s important, Grace. We need to set a date soon, before the weather turns too miserable for people to want to get out. And we should get a jump on the details, submit information to the local papers and radio stations soon if we want to attract a good crowd.”
Grace watched Adam’s eyelashes flutter. With his belly full and a good dose of exercise under his belt, it wouldn’t take much effort to coax him into a nap.
“Do you mind, Tess?” Grace asked. “Brent and I won’t take long.”
“Of course not.” She stood and jostled Adam onto her shoulder. “I’ve got a business-law exam on Monday. I’ll knock out some studying while he naps.”
“Thanks.” Grace retied one of the shoelaces that had come undone on Adam’s scuffed tennis shoes. She drew his windbreaker from the duffel bag filled with soccer equipment and eased it over his arms.
“Stay out as long as you want. I promised Adam I’d take him to that new animated movie tonight,” Tessa offered.
“The one with the talking cars?” Grace smoothed Adam’s hair over the windbreaker’s collar.
“Yeah.” Tessa took Adam from Grace. She swayed back and forth on her heels, easing Adam into a more restful state. “That’s the one.”
Grace grimaced. “If it’s anything like the first installment, you’d better bring your earplugs.”
Tessa laughed and patted Adam’s back. “I’m a step ahead of you, sis.”
Chair legs scraped against tile as Logan stood. “I’ll give you a hand to the house, Tess, then hightail it back here.” He reached for Adam’s equipment bag and slung it over his shoulder. “You don’t have a car, and Adam’s too heavy for you to carry him all the way home.”
“If you insist.” Tessa handed Adam to Logan and took the equipment bag instead. “Besides, it’s good practice for having your own child in your arms, huh?”
“It’ll do.” Logan turned to Kate and cradled Adam’s head on his shoulder. “How do I look, Katie?”
“It’s a perfect fit.” She smiled through tears. “Any more of that and you’re going to have me blubbering again.”
“That’s my cue to make an exit, then.” He leaned to kiss her cheek and stroked a stray curl from her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
Grace kissed Adam’s sweaty brow and then watched Tessa trail Logan to the door. Her baby sister had sprouted into a lithe, leggy beauty over the past year. She’d inherited their father’s height and their mother’s quick, matter-of-fact wit, and now she nearly equaled Logan in height.
“Who would have ever thought…?” Mattie sighed as she gathered soiled napkins and tossed them on the empty sandwich platter. “Oh, Kate, that man loves you so.”
“Yes, he does.” She smiled wistfully and pressed a hand to her belly. “And soon he’ll have another to love, as well.”
Grace's Gold
5
“This is nice.” Grace smoothed a hand across the polished wood counter and surveyed creamy beige walls decorated with cheerful paintings and a slew of magazines across glass-capped tables. The odor of fresh paint mingled with polished wood. She hadn’t stepped inside the crisis center until today, but she sensed the inviting feel, a haven of safety and shelter offered to those who needed calm amidst the stormy seas of life. “It feels homey…relaxed.”
“That’s exactly what we were hoping for.” Brent stepped around the counter and snatched a peppermint candy from a dish beside the computer. He tossed it to Grace, and then took another for himself. “I’m glad you see it, too.”
Grace nodded. “I’ll bet you’ve touched the lives of countless people.” She eased beside a coffee table and her gaze fixed on a photo that had been enlarged, matted, and framed. “Isn’t that…”
“The creek, down n
ear the stable. Yes.” Brent crossed the room to stand beside her. “Somehow I felt…it just belonged here.”
Grace nodded. She could almost smell the scent of hay and sweet feed mixed with freshly-mucked stalls. Dust motes danced before her eyes as the horses flicked flies from their backs with the swish of a long, sleek mane. “Yes, I think you’re right.”
“I’d like to take you there again later, Grace.” He reached for her hand, twined her fingers with his and calluses brushed her skin—evidence of hard work. “Remember how much you used to like riding?”
She sighed and squeezed his fingers. “Oh, yes. Especially when your parents were away at a show, and the farm was quiet, calm. Because when they were there…”
“I know. I was…restless.”
Grace nodded. “I know it hurt…being left alone so much. I didn’t really understand it, Brent—the loneliness you must have felt. With three sisters to nag me, and parents who were always there for me, I just wanted to break away—to find myself. Some days I felt I might suffocate. I never realized what a treasure they were until everything changed…until my folks—and you—were gone.”
He pressed a knuckle to her cheek and stroked gently. “It’s been too long, Grace.”
“I-I know.” She brushed a finger across the photo with a sigh. There was an afternoon—much like this—with the sun battling a cool breeze and the sky so blue it seemed like a vast ocean. Brent had called her. His parents were arguing again, rocking the walls of their massive farmhouse with threats and accusations. Nowhere seemed safe…or happy.
She’d borrowed Mattie’s beat-up Honda and rushed right over. She found him sitting on their special boulder by the creek, his dark eyes huge and wounded. Without a word, they’d run to the barn and saddled the largest horse—the prize runner of the stable. Brent had climbed into the saddle and hoisted her up behind him, and with a click of his tongue and a nudge of his boot, the powerful stallion flew over the pasture. The air had chilled her to the core, and Grace clung to Brent, feeling for the first time the sinuous muscles that crossed his back, the strength in arms that seemed to match the power of the horse. Though the blinding speed stole the breath from her, she felt safe with her arms wrapped around him and her cheek pressed against the warmth of his back.
