Gift of Grace

by Shanna Hatfield

  He knew she was still aching over Grace’s passing and he was, too. It would take a long, long time before the pain subsided and the grief ebbed. But the fact they lost a daughter didn’t mean they should lose each other.

  Nora had done everything she could to push him away, to keep him at a distance. He thought perhaps her frosty attitude toward him had been starting to thaw even before he brought home a Christmas tree.

  After spending the past few days being waited on and lavished with her attention, J.B. could no longer settle for the crumbs of her affection. He wanted it all again. She used to look at him like he was a hero. When Grace died, all he saw was disappointment and loathing in her eyes.

  How he loved gazing into those mesmerizing eyes. The shade of gray shifted depending on her temperament or mood. With one glance at the color, he could tell if she was mad, sad, happy, or puzzled. Her eyes would turn an incredible winter-storm hue of silver when she looked at him with passion. And that was one look he’d definitely missed the past many weeks.

  He didn’t know how to make Nora understand that he understood her grief, understood why she was upset with him. But the longer she pushed him away, the harder it was going to be to let him back into her heart. At a time when the two of them should have relied on each other, found solace in one another, she’d declared him the enemy and did everything she could to build a wall between them.

  Even sleeping in the same bed had been torturous since she kept her distance and made sure he stayed on his side of the bed. If she’d constructed a barrier down the middle, she couldn’t have made her preferences that he leave her alone any clearer.

  However, hope sprang up anew in J.B. as Nora doted on him the past few days. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have been so concerned about his comfort.

  After Nora brought in a tray with chicken soup, hot bread fresh from the oven, and several cookies laden with spice, she busied herself in the kitchen, expecting him to fall asleep.

  Only J.B. was wide-awake with no interest in a nap. He tried to see what Jim and the others were doing outside, but could only catch a glimpse of the corner of the barn out the bedroom window. Maybe if he got up and rested in the parlor, he could at least have a better idea of what was going on in the world outside the house.

  He started to swing his legs over the side of the mattress, but Nora rushed in and tucked the covers back around him. “You just stay in that bed, J.B. The doctor said another day or two of rest would be good for you.”

  When she leaned across him to pull up the blanket, J.B. had to grasp his self-control with both hands and hold on with an iron fist. Her bosom brushed over his chest and he forced his gaze to the ceiling, trying to think of anything beyond how much he wanted his wife.

  “Are you feeling well, J.B.?” Nora asked, pressing her hand to his forehead. “You feel a little warm.”

  Considering his internal temperature was about to reach the breaking point, he supposed he probably did feel warm. Feverish most likely didn’t begin to describe it.

  “I hope your wound hasn’t become infected. I better check it,” Nora said, removing the bandage on his head and looking at it. She rubbed a little salve over the spot then placed a fresh bandage over it, wrapping the white muslin around his head to hold it in place.

  J.B. clenched his hands beneath the sheets to keep from pulling her to him when a stray tendril of hair brushed across his neck. Every nerve ending in his body hummed, as though an explosion was imminent.

  He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself and got a nose full of her enticing fragrance. On the verge of losing all control, he closed his eyes, only to feel Nora press her cheek to his.

  His eyes popped open when she straightened and stepped back.

  “I don’t think you have a fever.” She fiddled with his covers again, her hand creating little wildfires across his shoulders each time her fingers connected with his skin. “Would you like something cool to drink? I could make you…”

  “No. I’m fine,” J.B. croaked, keeping a stranglehold on the last remaining threads of restraint he possessed.

  “If you’re sure, I’ll leave you to rest,” Nora said sweetly then breezed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  J.B. released the breath he’d been holding and tried to relax. Tension coiled in him like a spring in a clock that had been wound far too tight. He had to do something or he’d never survive the rest of the day and night.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Yes, I’m sure I’ll be fine and no, I don’t need you or one of the boys to come with me,” Nora said as J.B. stood beside the wagon with his hand on her knee.

  “I just think…”

  She held up a hand to silence him and shook her head. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I have a few things I need to see to in town. If I’m not back by the time it’s dark, then you can worry. Otherwise, enjoy your day. I left slices of ham in the icebox and potato salad. You can have a cold lunch. There’s a roast in the oven for supper.”

  He nodded. “Enjoy yourself, apple cheeks.” J.B. gave her leg a final pat then stepped back as she snapped the lines and guided the horses toward the road.

  Rather than turn toward town, Nora instead headed to the Erickson’s farm. As the horses plodded along, she thought about her husband. She’d been beside herself with worry when Plutarch had tossed him into the fence and then stomped on him. But Doctor Reed assured her a good night’s sleep would right most of what was wrong with J.B.

  When he’d lingered in bed all the next day, she’d been deeply concerned. It wasn’t until the morning of the second day of him staying in bed that she realized he was pretending to be hurt worse than he was just to be close to her. Flattered, but also annoyed by his childish deception, she decided to torment him the whole time he stayed in bed.

  Attentive to his every need and full of sweet smiles, she’d purposely applied the perfume she knew he liked. She’d prepared his favorite foods, worn dresses he’d complimented her on in the past, and did her best to brush against him or touch him every time she went in the bedroom.

  Aware that he was struggling to maintain his façade, she’d had to go out to the chicken coop at one point to release her laughter.

  It was no surprise to her when he bounded out of bed bright and early yesterday morning and declared himself healed. She knew his ribs were still sore and he had a lingering headache, but Doctor Reed said it might take a week before his head stopped aching and longer for his ribs to cease hurting.

  Amused with J.B.’s attempt at pulling the wool over her eyes, she hoped she’d left him so flustered he didn’t know which way was up or down.

  If she cared to admit it, Nora had enjoyed taking care of him, having an excuse to touch him. She missed her husband, missed being close to him, missed his loving embraces. It was past time to get back to normal in all aspects of their marriage and life, but she needed J.B. to make the first move, to confirm he still loved her, wanted her, and needed her.

  She was still mulling over where things stood between the two of them when she stopped the wagon in front of the Erickson’s home. She hopped down as the front door opened and Erik raced outside. The little boy threw his arms around her waist and gave her an exuberant hug.

  “Hi, Mrs. Nash!” the little boy said, blue eyes shining brightly as he grinned at her.

  “Hello, Erik. How does this day find you?”

  “Wonderful! It’s almost Christmas. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and we get to go to church services and have treats and there will be presents Christmas Day.” Words tumbled out of the child at a rapid pace.

  Nora settled a hand around his small shoulders and walked with him to the front door. Anna stood there, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “What brings you out today, Nora?” Anna asked, stepping back so she and Erik could enter the warmth of the house.

  “I’m heading into Pendleton and thought you might like to come along. I have a few Christmas errands to attend to and wondered i
f you might have some shopping you’d like to do.”

  Anna’s eyes lit up. “I would love to go to town with you. If you don’t mind waiting while I change and find Einar, we can be on our way.”

  “Far is in the barn with Dent,” Erik said, yanking on his coat. “I can fetch him!”

  “Why don’t I go with Erik and let Einar know where we’re going?” Nora suggested.

  “Thank you,” Anna said, untying her apron strings as she hurried from the room. “Put on your cap and mittens!” she called over her shoulder to Erik.

  “Mor…” he huffed, dragging out each letter. He tugged on his cap and Nora helped with his mittens. He looked up at her with a longsuffering expression on his face. “She forgets I’m not a baby sometimes.”

  “It’s easy for mothers to do that,” Nora said, taking his hand as they walked outside and out to the barn.

  Dent and Einar were working together to repair a piece of equipment in the warmth of the barn.

  “Good morning, Nora. What brings you all the way out here today?” Einar asked, tipping his head to her.

  “I’m going into town for some supplies and thought Anna might like to join me. She’s changing her clothes, so Erik and I offered to come out and let you know.”

  Einar grinned. “It is good my Anna can go with you. Thank you for thinking of her.” He motioned toward his son. “We’ll keep Erik out here with us.”

  “Oh, it is purely my pleasure, Einar. Anna is a good friend and good company.” Nora cupped Erik’s chin in her hand. “Are you sure you don’t want us to take this one along?”

  “No. I would like Anna to have a day to enjoy herself with no worries or responsibilities.” Einar reached out and pulled Erik to him, patting the boy on his small chest. “You’ll help Dent and I work on the cultivator, won’t you son?”

  “Yep! I’m a good helper,” Erik said, beaming up at his father before he scurried over to where Dent was tightening a bolt on the cultivator.

  “Thank you, Einar. I’ll have Anna home before dark.” Nora turned to leave but found Einar walking beside her.

  “Anna will need money to take with her. Will you make sure she buys something for herself? Something she’d think was…” Einar’s brow furrowed as he searched the right word.

  “Frivolous?” Nora asked.

  Einar grinned. “Yes. Frivolous. She needs more fun in her world. My Anna, she works hard all the time. I want her to have nothing but happiness today.”

  “You’re a good man, Einar Erickson.” Nora smiled at him as they returned to the house. She waited in the front room while Einar went down the hall. She heard the low rumble of voices then Anna appeared, a happy smile wreathing her face. Einar escorted them to the wagon, helped them up to the seat, then motioned for Anna to bend down. He kissed her, causing the shy woman to blush.

  “Enjoy your day, my love.” He waved then made his way back to the barn as the women left on their adventure.

  On the way to town, which took nearly an hour, Nora and Anna talked about their plans for Christmas Eve and Christmas. They discussed new recipes they’d tried, and both laughed when Nora confided she was convinced J.B. had pretended to be hurt worse than he was just to stay in the house with her.

  “Your husband, he loves you so,” Anna said as Nora guided the horse down the main street in Pendleton.

  “Yes, I believe he does,” Nora said, smiling at her friend. She stopped the wagon near Mr. Johnson’s mercantile. “Before we go shopping, there is something I feel I need to do. If you’d rather not go with me, you could wait at the hotel’s dining room.”

  “What do you have planned?”

  Nora drew in a deep breath. “J.B. pointed out I’ve been less than charitable to Mrs. Gibson, the woman who takes in laundry. As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s right. Under normal circumstances, I would have done all I could to help that poor woman and I’ve done nothing but condemn her. I thought I’d see if there is anywhere in town she might move the children where it would be warmer and safer. She lives in a shack without even a roof covering half of it.”

  Anna nodded. “Pastor Whitting mentioned her one day. I will come with you, Nora. We’ll figure out something to help the Gibson family.”

  Nora smiled and removed the scarf she’d wrapped over her head, replacing it with a dark blue winter hat that matched her coat. When it was pinned in place, she hopped off the wagon then held out a hand to Anna. Together, they began going from one business to another, except for the saloons, to see if anyone could help the unfortunate widow.

  Two hours later, they’d gone to every business and had no luck at all. They stood in front of Lou Ackerman’s livery considering what to do next.

  “Should we try in here?” Anna asked, looking as weary and dejected as Nora felt. They’d even asked at a few of the nicer homes if they would be interested in hiring Mrs. Gibson. Everyone gave them a firm but polite rejection.

  “Yes, let’s. Mr. Ackerman will most likely be unable to help us, but it can’t hurt to ask,” Nora said.

  The two of them walked inside the livery where the aromas of horses and hay filled the air. It was warm, though, and felt good after they’d been traipsing around town in the freezing temperatures.

  “Mr. Ackerman?” Nora called, wondering where the man was. When he didn’t appear, she called again. “Mr. Ackerman?”

  Lou Ackerman stuck his head around a doorway and smiled at Nora. “Mrs. Nash! How nice to see you and Mrs. Erickson.”

  He hurried toward them, with a sandwich in one hand and a ledger in the other. “How may I be of assistance to you today?”

  “Well, it’s not so much for us as it is a family in need,” Nora said. She explained Mrs. Gibson’s tragic situation which caused Mr. Ackerman’s brow to furrow into a deep frown.

  “And you say this woman has three little ones, lives in a shack, and works hard from dawn to dusk?” he questioned.

  “Yes, sir.” Nora waited as the brawny man seemed lost in his thoughts. He absently ate his sandwich then glanced at the ledger book in his other hand.

  “Do you think she can keep track of numbers? I could sure use some help with my books.” Mr. Ackerman’s face suddenly brightened. “I just bought a house, too. The Peabody family decided to move to The Dalles and sold me their house last week. With that passel of young ones they’re raising, the house has eight bedrooms. I was thinking about turning it into a boarding house. Do you think Mrs. Gibson might be able to manage it for me? I could give her room and board at the house in exchange for her work, and a little money, too, if she’d take over keeping the ledgers in order.”

  Nora could have kissed the stubbly cheek of the livery owner. Instead, she clasped Anna’s hand with hers and looked at the man with a glowing smile. “Mr. Ackerman, you are, indeed, a blessing from above today.”

  The man blushed, but appeared pleased by her words. “Shucks, ma’am, I don’t think anyone has ever said that about me. If you’d like to see the house, I could show it to you right now.”

  “We’d love to see it,” Nora said, looking at Anna. The woman nodded in agreement.

  After exploring the well-built home with lovely wall coverings and enough basic furnishings for a small family to use, Nora convinced Mr. Ackerman to go with them to see Mrs. Gibson. They climbed into her wagon, which Mr. Ackerman drove, and went to the derelict shack where the Gibson family resided.

  “I didn’t realize a woman with little ones lived here,” Mr. Ackerman said as he helped Nora and Anna from the wagon.

  Nora tapped on the door then pushed it open without waiting for an invitation to enter. She led the way inside where steam filled the room in spite of the frigid air seeping through cracks and the tarp-covered portion of the roof.

  “Dropping off laundry?” Mrs. Gibson asked, not even turning to acknowledge them as she stood elbow deep in a washtub of soapy water, scrubbing pants on a washboard.

  Violet and John sat on a thin blanket on the cold dirt floor. The baby
was in the old apple box near the stove, whimpering. In truth, Nora was amazed the children were alive and seemingly well. Perhaps Mrs. Gibson wasn’t as horrible a mother as she’d first imagined.

  “Mrs. Gibson, I realize it isn’t any of my business where you live or what you do, but we’ve come with a proposal I truly hope you’ll consider,” Nora said, feeling like a meddling busybody rather than someone granting Christmas wishes.

  The woman stopped scrubbing the pants, pulled her hands from the soapy water and dried them on her damp apron. She shoved a lock of hair that had fallen in her face back and Nora saw the reddened, angry scar on her hand and forearm where she’d suffered a burn a few weeks earlier.

  “I reckon what I do isn’t any of your concern,” the woman said. “But I’ll listen if you talk fast.”

  Nora nodded and pointed to Mr. Ackerman. “I don’t know if you’ve made the acquaintance of Mr. Lou Ackerman. He owns a livery and just purchased a house he intends to turn into a boarding house. He is seeking someone to manage the boarding house and assist with bookkeeping. In exchange, he’ll provide a room at the boarding house, meals, and a modest income. Would you be interested?”

  The woman eyed all three of them with suspicion. “Just so I’m clear, you’re offering to give me and my young’uns a place to live, food to eat, and money besides?”

  “That’s right, ma’am,” Mr. Ackerman said, taking a step closer to her. “I couldn’t pay much at first, but if the boarding house proves to be successful, I would share the profits with you.”

  “And what else are you expecting to share?” she asked, offering him a harsh glare. “In spite of what everyone thinks, I’m not interested in taking up with a man who isn’t my husband. Just because my sister works at the Cosmopolitan doesn’t mean we’re cut from the same cloth.”

  “No, ma’am. I mean I didn’t expect anything, ma’am, other than what Mrs. Nash stated.” Red crept up Mr. Ackerman’s neck. “I promise I’d be respectful of you and your little ones.”