Falling For Grace

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Falling For Grace Page 8

by Janet W. Ferguson


  “The thing is, I can’t figure out how to move forward. I stepped out in faith when I took you to dinner, then when I heard that baby crying...”

  “Seth, the thing about stepping out or moving forward—and I know this better than most—is that sometimes you fall, but you get up and dust yourself off. You try again.”

  “I want to.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “Part of my reason for looking at the property here was to start over.”

  Something didn’t sound right about the logic. “What was the other part of staying here instead of going back to Atlanta?”

  His gaze dropped, his forehead creasing. “Being there hurts too much. I bought Selina’s share of our house, hired someone to keep it up, and left. All my brothers...they have healthy babies, which I’m thrilled about, but my family is tight knit. Or was.” He shook his head. “Being with them is too hard.”

  So he’d been avoiding. Grace held in a sigh, her heart overflowing with sympathy for Seth. How easy it would’ve been to fall into that trap. Hanging out with her married friends had hurt, at first, but she’d pushed on. Sure, sometimes situations became awkward, making her feel like a third wheel, but she refused to let despair win. “You can’t just hide away here when you have people who love and miss you—and a huge thriving business. What about grief counseling or support groups?”

  Seth worked his jaw. He still dodged looking her way. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll take a nap.” He reached for his crutches, but she caught his hand.

  “I’m sorry. I overstepped.” She’d pushed too hard and strained their tenuous relationship. “We don’t have to discuss this again.”

  He let his shoulders settle into the couch, though his lips remained tight. “I do have some work on the computer that needs my attention. Would you mind bringing my laptop from my bedroom?”

  “Sure.” She rose and made her way down the hall. He needed a moment, and she’d give it to him. Actually, he’d had three years, but he still seemed to be treading in the depths of despair. Nothing she could say would likely make a difference, but she’d pray earnestly for God to move in Seth’s life.

  In the bedroom, she scanned the dresser. The laptop rested on a lap pad, and she gathered it all in her arms. Her eyes roamed to the downturned picture on the nightstand, and she took slow steps toward it. Would he be angry if she peeked? More upset than she’d already made him? For some reason, she had to see.

  Her fingers hesitated, hovering over the frame, but she finally flipped the picture over. A smiling baby lay in Seth’s arms. She gasped at the precious vision. Seth’s entire countenance glowed as he gazed at his son. The joy of the scene was palpable.

  Tears pressed against Grace’s lids. No wonder he was so broken.

  Chapter 14

  Three weeks had passed too quickly. Out on the deck, a cool breeze swept over Seth. He leaned forward on the chaise lounge to better take in the last of the magenta sunset. Beside him, Grace snapped pictures on her phone, like she’d done every single night. The woman found joy in creation’s treasures, and Seth found joy watching the glow on her face...the way her eyes lit up when she discovered a sand dollar or a shell or that one tiny piece of sea glass. Every sunrise or bird or jumping fish. Oh, and dolphins. Grace often ran to the beach and cheered for them when they played nearby. She only fell a few times and always bounced back to her feet. Maybe she was like Tigger.

  But despite the fact she’d come to recoup, she’d worked furiously. For her administrative position, she made phone calls and maintained online reports, then she checked the remodeling progress several times a day. She still found time to cook healthy meals and had actually learned to play a mean hand of Rook. They’d laughed, watched church online together, and enjoyed each other’s company more than he’d imagined possible. And she’d completely dropped the subjects of grief and children, avoiding the whole touchy issue like he’d wanted.

  Was that what he still wanted?

  Talking about his son hurt, but he’d grown accustomed to seeing that little face smiling from the frame on the Christmas tree. He’d even kept the picture on his nightstand upright. Perhaps he could heal, find a new normal, and return to Atlanta. But still, if he was able to move forward, he couldn’t imagine ever fathering another child—the terror of the responsibility for another life was just too immense.

  The shades of pink spreading across the clouds transformed into a blazing orange before the enormous ball sank into the horizon, leaving a deep lavender sky that was quickly darkening. The days had shortened as Christmas neared.

  “Thank you, God. Your mercies are new every day.” Beside him, Grace applauded heavenward, and then pivoted Seth’s way. “Isn’t He wonderful?”

  Forcing a swallow, Seth met her gaze. “He is. I’d forgotten how much until you fell—quite literally—into my life.” He managed a smile. “Thank you, Grace.”

  Her face pinked, and her chin took a shy dip. “I’ve enjoyed our time together.”

  The unspoken deadline loomed between them. Maybe he would go back to Atlanta, but he’d still have to explain why they could only be friends. The bloom on her cheeks and the deep blue eyes waited for his response.

  Why ruin a perfect moment, though? “I’ve enjoyed getting to spend time with you, too. More than you know. And hey, only two days until Christmas. Would you mind driving me down the road to shop for a few gifts? There’s a nice outfitters store and several boutiques we could hobble into.”

  Scanning his cast, her lips pursed into a worried, but adorable, pooch.

  “I’ll be careful.” He motioned toward his leg. “I’ve followed the rules so far, and we don’t have to stay long...unless you want to grab dinner while we’re out.” Memories of their first and last attempt at eating out rushed over him, the pleasurable and painful colliding. But they’d eaten together on trays for weeks with no awkward moments. Couldn’t they try going out once more? As friends?

  GRACE’S BREATH CAUGHT. What should she do? Anxiety about Seth on crutches in a Christmas shopping rush competed with the worry over her growing feelings for him. Neither of those scenarios seemed likely to leave them unscathed, especially the latter.

  Seth had already pushed to a stand. “Don’t you need to buy a few gifts?”

  She’d ordered most of what she needed online, had them gift-wrapped and delivered not long after Thanksgiving, but she would like to buy Mac and Darlene something. They’d been so kind. And maybe something for Seth would be appropriate. They’d hung out every day since her arrival. Would Christmas be any different?

  “Come on, Grace.” His pleading smile might be her undoing. “We can take my truck. It needs to be cranked since it’s been sitting.”

  “Sure. Let’s live dangerously. I’ll grab my purse.” Even as she agreed, she worried she’d live to regret the outing.

  “I’ll meet you at the truck with my wallet and keys.”

  In the garage, Grace pressed the button to open the automatic door and then scanned the shelves on the far wall. At least a dozen sculptures of coastal animals stood there—fish and birds and a crab—created from all kinds of old metal, from screws to faucets to doorknobs. Five birdhouses sat on the shelf above, made from what appeared to be mostly driftwood and seashells. Were these gifts Seth had ordered and not yet wrapped? They were so unique.

  “I’m ready, James.” Seth’s voice still warmed her as it had that first day.

  “James?” She turned to face him.

  “Like a chauffeur. My grandma used to say that.”

  “Oh, okay, Miss Daisy. You and your grandparents must’ve been close.”

  “We were.”

  Had he been avoiding them too, or had they passed on? No way was she bringing up more delicate subjects. “It looks like you’ve already been shopping.” She pointed at the creations. “I love the artwork. Where can I buy some for my family? My mom would go crazy over the birdhouse. I’d like one, too.”

  His mouth curled into a sheepis
h grin. “Have whatever you want. I made them.”

  “You?” More admiration bloomed for this man. “They’re amazing.”

  “I’ve been itching to use my saw and welding tools, but I thought I might get in trouble with my sitter-friend.”

  Interesting, and somewhat disappointing, description he had for her. “Yes. You would.” She pivoted back and neared the sculptures to get a closer view, ran her fingers over a larger one, a heron. Some sort of long needle-nose pliers formed a beak, and the legs were formed from thin metal rods. The body consisted of so many shapes and textures she wasn’t sure yet what all he’d used. Despite the harsh materials, the bird appeared graceful. But the birdhouses really attracted her—the delicate shells and driftwood.

  “Y’all heading out and about?” Mac had slipped up on them and stood in the driveway.

  “Hey.” Grace waved him in. “He’s convinced me to take him shopping. Have you seen Seth’s works of art?” She pointed to the shelves.

  Mac neared, bringing the scent of outdoors and hard work with him. He studied the artwork closely. “I knew he recycled, but I had no idea he was an artist.” He let out a husky laugh. “Are the eyes on that crab the old faucet handles I gave you?”

  “They are.” Seth’s voice held an edge of hesitancy, as if waiting for approval.

  “Isn’t that something?” Grinning, Mac turned and placed a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “You’ve taken trash and dead wood and the remains of sea creatures to make something really special. Your pretty work here reminds me of how the Lord can take our garbage and pain, then recycle that chaos into something beautiful.”

  Grace couldn’t help but squeeze the plumber into a tight hug. “Mac, you might be one of the smartest men I’ve ever met.”

  Chapter 15

  Grace admired the thousands of white Christmas lights illuminating the community square while they waited outside for a table at the cafe. The temps hovered in the low sixties, making for a nice foray around the quaint town. She’d found the presents she needed at the upscale gift stores—a chunky pearl-and-bead necklace for Darlene and a fishing cap for Mac. Nothing seemed right for Seth, though.

  The words the old plumber had spoken stayed with her the rest of the evening. If only Seth would believe his brokenness could be recycled into something beautiful when laid in God’s hands.

  “Hey, they’re paging us.” Seth’s fingers brushed her arm, summoning the usual tingles that accompanied his touch.

  “Nice. My stomach was just beginning to complain.” She tried and failed to keep her focus on the surroundings and not his incredible eyes.

  “We can’t have that.” Leaning on his crutches, he motioned her ahead of him. “Ladies first.”

  After inspecting the two steps leading onto the restaurant’s deck, Grace looked back at him. “You go ahead.”

  “Are you going to catch me if I fall?” His smile exhibited a quirk of sarcasm but was still cute.

  For about the hundredth time tonight, his gaze whipped up another swarm of butterflies in her midsection that refused to be grounded. “I would give it my best shot.”

  “I’ve got the hang of the crutches.”

  “Fine.” Still glued to the vision of him, she turned toward the restaurant entrance and took a step. Her shoe wedged between two boards, and she lurched forward. She caught herself with both arms on the decking. “Oops.” Why was it always when she was going up a set of stairs?

  “Grace, are you okay?” Seth’s crutches clattered to the ground, and he bent to touch her shoulder.

  Releasing a trapped breath, she stood, careful not to bump him. “You shouldn’t put weight on that cast. I’m still fine, as always.”

  He straightened, but hobbled one step closer, so close, his breath warmed her cheek. “That you are.” His fingers traced the contours of her face, energy pulsing through the caress. His gaze intensified, and his lips brushed hers, slowly, gently, but electrifying.

  Her heart seemed to combust, and she responded by drinking him in, pulling closer, running her fingers through his hair. She soaked in the scent of him, woodsy and fresh as cut pine and salt air. Three weeks’ worth of pent-up emotion and attraction and affection welled up inside her and permeated the moment. She didn’t care a whit about the public display. Apparently, neither did he, because he only deepened the kiss.

  “Seth, party of two. Last call.” A woman’s voice carried from the restaurant entrance.

  Seth broke the contact between their lips. One hand remained on Grace’s cheek, the other waved at the hostess. “We’re coming. We just fell along the way.”

  “Do you need help?” The woman inched farther out the door.

  “None you can provide.” Shaking his head, he bent to gather his crutches.

  “Take your time. I’ll hold the table.” She gave an understanding smile and then reentered the restaurant.

  Seth seemed to take her at her word. He gazed into Grace’s eyes. “What is it with you and me and restaurants?” His chuckling scoff floated in the gentle breeze. “I mean, we’ve eaten together for almost a month at the house and...”

  Grace’s heart galloped. She stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself. What had she been thinking, laying a kiss like that on Seth?

  Oh, right. She hadn’t been thinking. But he’d started the whole thing. Again. “I know you just want to be friends.” Moisture collected on her lashes, and she blinked to try and control her sappy self.

  “Grace...” His earnest gaze locked on her and wouldn’t let go. “Friends is obviously not what I want. But getting involved romantically wouldn’t be fair to you in the long run. I can’t waste your time or hurt you that way.” His expression tensed, and he shook his head. “I can’t give you the life you want.”

  Confusion fogged her mind. What was he saying? “How do you know what I’d want?”

  “You want children.” He shook his head.

  The three simple words tainted the air between them, but why? “And you can’t father more?”

  “I won’t.” A muscle in his jaw ticked as he tore his gaze away. “I won’t be responsible for another child. I won’t go through that pain again. It’s just too much. Too hard.”

  “But...” She needed to be careful how she worded this. If only he would listen... “What happened to Noah wasn’t your fault. And just because a tragedy happened once doesn’t mean a tragedy like that will happen again.”

  He looked back at her, a hint of hopeless longing glistening through his resolve. “My grandma said she had a younger brother who died of what they called crib death. What if the condition’s genetic?”

  “You said your brothers have children?” She blurted the statement then held her breath, regretting her desperate words.

  His gaze shifted to his feet, his furrowed brows hooding his face. “I won’t take that chance.”

  EVEN THOUGH SETH MEANT the words he’d said, hearing them out loud shattered him anew. Even though he’d meant to save them both more pain, seeing Grace blink away tears broke his heart more than he’d imagined. Even though he believed his choice was best for Grace and for himself, doubt pounded against his determination.

  No. He had to allow Grace the opportunity to be the wife and mother she was meant to be—with a man who was whole and unbroken.

  She turned her attention to the ground, and shadows veiled her expression. “We better go inside before we lose our chance at a table.”

  “Okay.” No other response came to mind. He pushed his weight against the blasted crutches and limped forward. He’d gotten to know Grace well enough to see how much he was causing her to suffer, but he couldn’t play games. Of course, they’d both been playing pretend for three weeks. Pretending they weren’t falling for each other. Pretending they weren’t both in a ship full of holes in the middle of the Gulf. And it was his fault. He should’ve stayed in his house that first day. Grace was recovering from one idiotic man’s actions already. He’d made things worse.

  For o
nce, being seated between a boisterous office party and the two-man band’s speaker turned out to be a good thing. Seth scarfed down his dinner and held up one finger to signal the waiter to bring the check. The noise level had effectively drowned out any possibility for conversation between him and Grace.

  Grace slid out her chair as soon as the bill had been paid. Her food had barely been touched. The waiter insisted on boxing her salmon and mashed potatoes. Silently, they walked down the boardwalk and through the packed parking lot.

  In the truck, Seth caught her hand before she shifted into reverse. “I’m sorry. All I wanted from that first day on the beach was to cheer you up.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “I’ve blown that one out of the water.”

  “It is what it is.” Her gaze flitted around the windshield, looking anywhere but his way. “I want children. You don’t.” Shaking her head, she shrugged. “We just met, anyway. It’s not like we...” She didn’t finish, but he knew what she was thinking and why she’d stopped. Because despite their best efforts—desperate efforts—they’d fallen for each other.

  Chapter 16

  Seth released Grace’s hand and let his own drop to his thigh. Silence filled the truck’s cab, so he flicked on the radio. Christmas tunes blared, sounding much too joyful. He turned the volume to barely audible.

  The rest of the short drive dragged on. The tension buzzing his entire body had his good leg bouncing.

  Finally, they reached the driveway, and Grace slowed. A silver van had parked on the right side. Seth’s heart surged, breaking a new speed record.

  “Expecting another real estate agent?” Grace glanced his direction for a second, her tone flat.

  If only. “It’s one of my younger brothers.”

  “Oh, goodness. I would’ve made sure the guestrooms were prepared and the furniture was dusted if you’d told me.”

  “I didn’t know.” Between the two lawns, Mac and Darlene stood smiling and talking with Cam and his wife, Misty. Their three-year-old daughter, Evie, held her father’s hand, and in Misty’s arms lay their latest addition—three-month-old Jonathan.

 

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