I, Gracie

by Sharon Sala

  Gracie shivered. "Yes. That's the one, and thank you for being the lifesaver you were. You were my first friend in Branson, and I hope I continue to see you."

  "Oh, you will. You'll probably be doing flowers for my famous New Year's Eve party, but you and John will be getting an invitation, as well. And one of these days, I'm going to beat you at Poker."

  Gracie laughed. "I'll leave the key and the remote on the kitchen counter. I won't lock up, so you'll have to come get them after we're gone."

  "I can do that. And don't fret about cleaning anything. I always have it done professionally between renters anyway. I love, you, girl. Invite me to your wedding."

  "Yes, ma'am," Gracie said.

  She grabbed her purse and started to walk out the door when a blast of cold air hit her in the face. Without missing a beat, she made a U-turn, went back in the house, traded her jacket for a coat, and then tried that exit once more.

  The wind was still cold, but Gracie was fine, and as soon as she got to work, she cornered Donna in her office.

  "I hate to ask at short notice, but I need off this afternoon."

  "Of course," Donna said. "Is everything okay?"

  "It will be as soon as I get packed. I'm moving in with John."

  Donna grinned. "It's about time! And whenever you have that wedding, I'm doing your flowers."

  Gracie laughed. "One thing at a time. Right now, I'm just taking care of business, getting me where I'm supposed to be next."

  Then she went to the workroom, and the morning flew, and when her lunch time came around, she didn't linger.

  "Hey, where'd Gracie go so fast?" Reba asked.

  "She had to go see a man about the rest of her life," Donna said.

  Reba's eyes widened. "What?"

  "She's going home to pack. John's moving her into his place today."

  "Aw, man. She's so lucky," Reba said.

  Donna thought of all the hell that girl had been through, and then shook her head.

  "No... This isn't lucky. This is her coming out of a really dark place, and it's about damn time."

  When they drove up to the big log house, the smoke coming out of the chimney was her own smoke signal, welcoming her home. John had all her things in his SUV, pulled over for her to park beside him, then walked her across the deck. She was about to enter the house as she always did when John stopped her.

  "Wait," he said. He opened the door, then picked her up in his arms and carried her across the threshold. "Welcome home, my darling. Welcome home," he said, and sealed it with a kiss. "Stay inside where it's warm. I'll carry everything in, and then we can get everything where it needs to go afterward."

  "I can help," Gracie said.

  "I know...but I still don't want you carrying heavy stuff, okay?"

  She nodded, and then walked toward the big fireplace and backed up to the fire, warming her hands, and then her feet as she turned.

  She watched him scurrying in and out with her things, and when the last load was in, he kicked the door shut behind him and started up the stairs.

  "I'll carry them. You can unpack and put away," he said.

  Gracie was so happy, she all but danced up the stairs. She'd spent nights here plenty of times, but she'd never been "in residence" before, and it was exciting.

  John had made room for her clothes in the big walk-in closet and had emptied three drawers in his dresser for her. He was excited, too. A huge milestone was taking place in his life, as well. From this day forward, he would be her protector and her partner. She would be someone to cherish, and the person he trusted who would always have his back. That someone he'd always wanted to come home to was finally here, and her name was Gracie.

  That evening, after everything had been carried into the house and Gracie's clothes were hanging in the closet next to John's, and her great-grandmother's cuckoo clock was hanging on the bedroom wall, and her Mama's quilt was on a trunk at the foot of John's bed, something wonderful happened.

  It began to snow.

  Gracie saw it first and came off the sofa with a squeal.

  "John! Look! Look! Those are snowflakes!"

  He got up and followed her to the window, looking out across the front deck to the yard and the surrounding trees.

  "It sure is! It's the Ozarks, welcoming you home," he said, and hugged her.

  She turned, her dark eyes shining. "I love that," she said. "Let's go out on the front deck. Just for a bit. It's falling so soft, floating down like feathers. And there's no wind. Oh my God, snow in Sweetwater didn't fall, it blew sideways."

  "Sure," John said. "Let me get our coats."

  Gracie was still at the window when he came up behind her and held out her coat. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, and then buttoned it up while he was putting on his coat. She missed seeing him pat the pockets before opening the massive front door.

  "After you," he said, watching with delight as Gracie walked out.

  She stood in the middle of the deck, completely silent, feeling the flakes melting on her skin.

  "It's magic. The silence is magic, and everything is so beautiful. It's like standing in a snow globe."

  John slipped his hand inside the pocket of his coat. He could feel the little velvet box against his palm. He'd had it for a long time, waiting for Gracie, and now she was here.

  He walked up in front of her, suddenly blocking her view. Then before she could open her mouth, he dropped down on one knee with the open box in his hand.

  "Gracie Jean, you are my love, and you are my lover. You are the voice of my conscience, and you are my best friend. I trust you to the depths of my soul and with all my heart. I need you in my life. Will you marry me?"

  Gracie gasped at the size of the diamond solitaire, and then saw so much love and promise on his face. All she could do was nod.

  "Is that a 'yes'?" John asked.

  "Yes! That's a yes! A great big yes!" Gracie said.

  "Thank God," John said, and slid the ring up her finger.

  Gracie laughed from the sheer joy of it, threw her arms around his neck, and hugged him. Then she spun out of his arms with her hands in the air, shouting.

  "I, Gracie Dunham, am engaged to John Gatlin,"

  He laughed, then slipped an arm around her waist and started dancing her across the deck while the snow fell down around them.

  "We have confetti, but no music," John said.

  Gracie threw back her head and closed her eyes.

  "I hear music. It must be Daddy. He's playing 'Johnny Be Good.'"

  Epilogue

  In the floral business, when you are planning your own wedding, you plan it between holidays, with a nod to the season for certain flowers.

  Valentine's Day was out. That was nonstop flowers for a solid week running.

  Easter was out. Tulips, Easter Lilies, and baskets galore.

  After that, it was one holiday after the other.

  Mother's Day.

  Father's Day and June weddings.

  Fourth of July—with all the others too far away to consider.

  Gracie was between a rock and a hard place, and so she chose the valley between: March 13.

  It was a Saturday when that day arrived.

  The weather was beautiful.

  The Ozarks were wearing their best spring greens as the guests began arriving at The Dogwood Chapel outside of Branson.

  Gracie sat in the dressing room, staring at herself in the mirror. She'd spent forever picking out the dress.

  It had a high neckline and long sleeves, but without the lace. It hid the scars, but not her shape. She'd had a childhood dream of being married in her Mama's wedding dress. This was the closest she could get.

  She sighed.

  "God, Mama, I wish you were here. Healthy and happy, and lining everybody out as to how to behave, and what to do, and how to do it. You would so be taking care of business."

  She took a deep breath and then blinked away tears.

  Today was not for crying.<
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  And Mama was with her. She knew it.

  So here she was, waiting for someone to come get her and take her to the preacher.

  She wanted to be Gracie Gatlin.

  She wanted to be John's wife.

  She felt like she'd been practicing for this moment for most of her life.

  And then the door opened, and she turned around.

  Donna beckoned, then put the wedding bouquet in Gracie's hands as she walked out into the hall.

  "You look so beautiful," Donna said.

  "I am so happy, and the flowers are perfect," Gracie said.

  The bouquet was magnificent in the fragility—magnolias in full bloom framed by their own thick, waxy leaves, like lilies on lily pads, gathered together with satin ribbon.

  Gracie clutched it with both hands as a lady approached, then led her through the winding halls, all the way to the entrance to the chapel.

  Her heart thumped. The seats were full. Recognizing people from looking at the back of their heads wasn't easy, but some were impossible to mistake.

  Darlene and her fiery red hair. She'd driven all the way from Houston with Caleb and Joanie.

  Lucy, with her white hair all fluffed out in every direction, was wearing a turquoise feather in lieu of a hat.

  And down in front, John's whole family had filled up a row.

  Those were the guests who mattered most to her, but she was looking for John.

  And then she saw him at the altar, silhouetted against the windows behind the pulpit, and thought, Thank you, God, for this man.

  A chord of music was struck.

  The pastor lifted his arms.

  The congregation stood, turned, and then a hush fell.

  The music began, and Gracie started down the aisle.

  John's heart was pounding.

  Thirty-five years he'd waited for this day. For her.

  He hadn't known who she would be for the longest of times, then once he'd seen her, he had held onto the memory of her face.

  But for a tiny angel charm and the grace of God, he might never have seen her again, and yet here she was, and so was he, and nothing was going to stop them now. They belonged, and in a very few minutes, the rest of the world would know it, too.

  Now she stood beside him, her shoulder almost touching his, both of them facing the preacher. The man kept talking and talking...and then he turned to face her.

  Gracie saw her reflection in John's tear-filled eyes and tightened her grip on his hands.

  She was on lock and load.

  She knew the words by heart.

  Her whole life had been in preparation for this day, for this man, for this moment in time.

  Repeat after me, the preacher said, and so she did.

  "I, Gracie, take thee, John…"

  The End

  About the Author

  Sharon Sala is a New York Times and USA Today, best-selling author. First published in 1991, she has 127 books published in six different genres – Romance, Young Adult, Western, Fiction, Women's Fiction and Non-Fiction. Her industry awards include: eight-time RITA finalist, (romance industry award), the Janet Dailey Award, five-time Career Achievement winner from Romantic Times Magazine, five-time winner of the National Reader's Choice Award, five-time winner of the Colorado Romance Writer's Award of Excellence, Heart of Excellence Award, Booksellers Best Award, Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award presented by Romance Writers of America, and the Centennial Award from Romance Writers of America for recognition of her 100th published novel. Sharon lives in Oklahoma.