Sufficient Grace

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Sufficient Grace Page 9

by Jessica Greyson


  Of course, he would notice! Her cheeks reddened. “I am fine,” she murmured.

  Unexpectedly he stepped towards her, and she found his coat resting on her shoulders. She stopped and turned to look at him. He pulled it more completely around her. Grace looked up into his face. It was thoughtful, a gentle asking in his eyes as they met hers. Her heart sped up, and her mouth went dry, the world seemed to spin. How do I stop this!

  Mitch took one of her hands in his. “You’re cold.”

  Of course, I am cold! I feel so nervous I could fly…I-I..I can’t feel this way, not now, not ever. I have to think of something to make him stop and now! “My father is going to replace you as sheriff,” she blurted.

  “I know Mr. Slater told me this afternoon.” There was no animosity in his voice. She had hoped to rile him up, make him frustrated, or angry, giving her a reason to hate him, but to no avail.

  “He did?” Just one more reason not to like Mr. Slater! Ah, how come nothing ever goes the way I want it?

  “He came into the Sheriff’s office after you left his. He thought you were a very accomplished young lady.”

  Stop complimenting me! Get angry, do something to make myself protect me from you. Hurt me, so I have reasons not to like you. Anything! Please!

  With a squeeze, he dropped her hand. “Come on, let’s get you home, and out of this cold night air.”

  Instantly, Grace was grateful for him. Then she hated herself for being grateful for Mitch. Stop being such an idiote! For the rest of the walk, emotions kept tying her stomach in knots. At the door of the hotel, Mitch took his coat.

  “Goodnight, Grace.”

  “Goodnight, Mitch.” She found herself shyly replying even though she wanted to shut the door in his face and go running upstairs.

  Chapter 16

  Grace closed the door to her room and sank down against it. Two doors safely between us. She flung her head back against the door in relief. Ow, how come I keep doing that? Grace rubbed her head, and touched her cheek, the bruise had completely disappeared in the last few days. Tonight was a complete failure. We would have to be on the opposite ends of the earth for him not to bother me. Father, why did you accept THIS post? Couldn’t you have taken a different town somewhere far, far away?

  Tears of vexation welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She stood up and looked at her room. Tomorrow I am leaving here and moving into the house. I will take one of the rooms until Mother and Father arrive, and then they can decide what goes where. But at least I will be gone from Mitch’s reach. Free from whatever happened tonight.

  As soon as the Cunningham General Store opened the next morning, Grace was there buying supplies, and sending them to the Alstead home. When Grace arrived at the house, she vented her feelings into cleaning. She worked long after sunset and into the night. At last, as the sun was rising she hung up the last curtain in the parlor—washed, starched, and ironed. Wearily she pulled herself upstairs and curled into bed. It was four in the afternoon before she even thought of stirring. Rising and re-braiding her hair she fixed herself a bite to eat and went outside on the front porch for a bit of fresh air. She had been there for only a few minutes when Mitch came riding up on Danny.

  “Hello!” he hollered.

  Grace waved her arm in reply.

  “I got a letter from your father today, and this was in it for you. I went to the hotel, but you weren’t there, so I came out here.”

  “How kind of you,” said Grace trying to mask her sarcasm.

  Mitch raised his eyebrows and handed her the letter.

  Carelessly she took it from him. “Thank you.”

  Mitch sat on his horse for a moment. Grace sensed he wanted to say something, but she preoccupied herself not wanting to hear him say anything.

  “Have a good night.”

  Grace didn’t look up, and Mitch rode off.

  In a minute Grace stomped inside angrily. Ah! Why did I treat him like that? Badge or not, he has been so kind. I can’t let him see what is going on. He’ll get hurt soon enough, and he’ll understand why. Mitch will change the moment he finds out who we really are. He will, I know he will.

  She tore open the letter.

  Grace,

  We will be arriving on the 26th by stage coach.

  That is it? I should have known. What day is it today anyway? The 24th. Two more days, two more days and I will know if everything is all right or if…she clenched the note in her hand, hoping, fearful, wondering.

  ~~~~~

  On the 26th Grace was standing in front of the hotel several minutes before noon, when Mitch walked out of the hotel from having lunch. Grace glanced at him. He was wearing a deputy badge and playing with a silver star in his hand.

  “I do wish these things would be punctual,” he commented.

  Grace laughed at him.

  Mitch was surprised. He glanced at her questioningly. When their eyes met, hers were strong, almost laughing victoriously at him.

  “If they ran on time everyone else would be late, and no one would ever ride.”

  Mitch smiled.

  Almost a quarter past noon, the stage came running into town pulling to a halt before the hotel.

  Mitch stepped back waiting.

  A tall, lanky man with hard weather-beaten features stepped from the carriage. Looking around, his eyes passed over the young lady looking at him with her mouth half open, and instead found the young man on his right twirling a metal object.

  “Hello there son, I am Sheriff Coates. You must be Mitch Williamson.”

  “Yes sir, I am.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, at last. I don’t suppose that you have seen that fancy daughter of mine come down around here to greet us? Have you seen her of late?”

  Mitch felt at a loss for words. How could he miss his own daughter?

  “I am here Father,” piped up Grace from behind them.

  The lanky man wheeled around. “Grace I didn’t recognize you. I thought you would have looked more like Han…your mother.”

  “It is good to see you father,” she said bobbing an odd half curtsy.

  “Tom?” called a soft voice from the carriage.

  “Coming dear,” the man stepped back to the carriage and helped out a frail looking woman.

  Grace stepped forward as if to embrace her, but halted as the women held out her hand. She caressed Grace’s face with her fingertips. “My how you have grown. You don’t look as old as I thought you would.” She then looked up at her husband, “Tom, I am tired.”

  “I know dear, but I need to see the office, get things going around here, and make sure they are in ship shape.”

  Mitch bristled just a little. Just because I am young doesn’t mean that things aren’t running smoothly. I really don’t need you to be sheriff. I was doing fine on my own, it is just the townspeople that…He glanced up at Grace. Her eyes shown with a resilience he hadn’t seen before. It annoyed him. Of all the times for her to be acting hurt and wounded, it should be now. Her parents had hardly looked at her. Hardly looked at her—but was this why she looked forward to seeing them, not being with them?

  “Father,” said Grace stepping beside him her fingers barely touching his sleeve.

  “Yes, Grace?”

  “How about I take Mother home. Mr. Cunningham kindly promised me his wagon. I can take Mother, and the trunks and Mitch here can show you the way home when you are done with business.”

  “Excellent plan my dear. Where is the wagon?”

  “Around the corner; I can assist Mother,” she said gently taking the woman’s arm.

  “Fabulous, and the coachman can take care of the luggage. One quick thing, daughter.”

  “Yes, father.”

  “Did you keep up on your riding at that fancy school?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Very good; Now Mitch tell me something…”

  Mitch watched as Grace walked away helping her mother, shouldering the responsibility without a sec
ond thought.

  It was late that afternoon when Mitch, at last, led the newly sworn-in Sheriff towards his new home.

  “So this is it? The Alstead’s old house, she didn’t do too bad I guess. Grace!”

  In a moment Grace appeared on the front porch apron in hand, “Yes, Father?”

  “Look what I brought you. It’s your graduation present. She’s a fine ladies horse, gentlest you’ll find.”

  A look of mixed emotion crossed Grace’s face, she smiled faintly as she stepped off the porch and walked gently up to the mare he had purchased from the stable. The mare was black save for a white blaze running down her nose.

  “You like her?”

  “She is beautiful.”

  “How about I dig out the saddle we brought for you, and you take her for a ride?” he encouraged.

  “I’d like that,” Grace answered.

  “Where is the wagon with the trunks?”

  “The trunks are in the house, Mr. Cunningham’s store assistant drove out with us and unloaded the wagon along with,” she hesitated for a moment, “The things that I ordered.”

  “Very well,” he said dismounting and pulling a trunk key from his pocket.

  “I will be taking my leave now sir,” said Mitch tipping his hat in respect.

  “Just wait a minute son. You are staying to have dinner with us tonight. Dinner is ready isn’t it Grace?”

  “Yes it is, just let me set an extra place at the table.”

  “Yes, stay awhile and have dinner with us. I’ll put these two horses out in that pasture, you can put yours up for now. I can get her saddle out after dinner.”

  Reluctantly, Mitch accepted and followed the sheriff to the barn. Together they put up the two horses for the night and fed and watered Danny.

  Grace was putting together a tray when they walked in through the back door.

  “Mother felt tired. I am going to bring this up to her.”

  “Good. We will wait for you in the dining room.”

  “I’ll be down in two minutes.”

  ~~~~~

  Grace climbed up the stairs trying not to stomp up the stairs, part angry, partly grieved.

  She had spent all afternoon setting up home with her mother’s instructions. They had exchanged so few words. There was a small part of the trunk that was for the kitchen. A few little house ornaments and only two of the small china figurines that grandfather had given her mother so long ago. There were fewer things than she remembered and when she asked her mother, the answer was simple.

  “We’ve moved twelve times.”

  There was so much she wanted to say—so much Grace didn’t know how to say.

  She had gone to lie down, the past four years since Han—the accident, had taken its toll on her mother.

  Carefully she entered the room where her mother rested.

  “Thank you, just leave it there. I’ll eat it in a little while.”

  “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “No, is your father home?”

  “Yes, he’s downstairs with the deputy.”

  She nodded, turned over on her pillow and Grace went back downstairs.

  When Grace entered the dining room, a wave of confusion slipped over her. She had set the table for four, and there were only three of them. Do I sit where mother should sit, or do I sit…across from Mitch?

  “Sit down daughter.” Her father motioned to the chair across from Mitch. “I hope you don’t mind that we started without you. I haven’t eaten all day.”

  “Of course not father.” When Grace sat down, she kept her eyes lowered, never allowing them to wander higher than the edge of the dining room table, and at the very least a brief glimpse at her father.

  The conversation never lagged between Mitch and the Sheriff, though the Sheriff did most of the talking. Grace was slightly relieved but irritated to not be included.

  When dinner was done, her father pushed away his plate and slightly tipped back in his chair.

  “Grace, while you do dishes, I’ll go catch that mare of yours and get out your present. How is that? You’ll stay to see her ride won’t you Mitch?”

  “I really should be getting back to town shortly, before it gets too dark.”

  “Nonsense, there is plenty of time before it gets dark. Care for a cup of coffee?”

  “No, I am really fine sir, thank you very much.”

  “In such a hurry to leave—well mustn’t keep a young man if he’s got a will to go. Got a young lady to call on?”

  “No, quite to the contrary, paperwork,” said Mitch standing up.

  “Well, suit yourself, a pleasure to meet you today, glad we got so much done. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Mitch nodded and stood up from the table.

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  Grace took a sigh of relief as they both left the room. Dear Lord, help me...please.

  She had just started the dishes when she heard her father’s voice calling for her.

  “Grace! Grace! Come on out!”

  Letting the dishes sink into the soapy water she went outside. The black horse was ready with a sidesaddle, her heart dropped just a little deeper in her chest. Grace glanced at Mitch who was just mounting Danny at the edge of the yard.

  “Isn’t she a beauty?” asked her father.

  “She is,” Grace managed to smile as come down the steps to get a better look at the fine creature that was hers.

  “I’ll give you a leg up.”

  “I want to check the straps first,” said Grace.

  “Don’t trust me aye?”

  “No, I just want to check, like you said every good horseman does.”

  A rough smile lightened his face for a moment. Grace went to lift the flap that covered the straps, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

  The initials H.E. were delicately engraved on the side. Pushing the flap aside, she checked the straps, then replaced it. Trying to catch her breath, her fingers momentarily brushing the letters H.E. There were strong memories she tried to block away with those two little letters.

  “What’s takin’ you so long?”

  “I am coming!”

  “I’ll give you a leg up.”

  Mutely Grace accepted and secured herself safely in the saddle. With a soft kick and an encouraging cluck, she set the horse into motion, talking softly as she did. The mare had a graceful gait. Grace asked for more and after a little urging the mare gathered herself together and minced into a trot; it was surprisingly smooth and gentle. It was a perfect woman’s horse. With an encouraging click and firm kick, the horse moved to the canter. Grace wanted more speed. She urged with her voice and the horse responded, taking them speeding down the road, it felt like flying. Something she desperately wished she could do. But she wouldn’t work the little mare too hard—and there were dishes to be done. Slowing her down she turned and rode back down the road at a lope. At sight of the fence, she kicked wondering what the little mare’s response would be. She had responded so willingly to everything else she had been asked. At a gallop, Grace barreled down on the fence. She felt the little mare gather herself for the jump. It was nearly perfect. They made it over the short fence and into the barnyard, Grace pulled her to a halt. Mitch was still sitting there on Danny watching her with a look she couldn’t discern under the brim of his hat. Grace looked at her father.

  “You know better than to gallop a horse home. Starting bad habits already, are you.”

  “I am sorry father; I won’t do it again.”

  “You’ve got to be careful with horses you know.”

  “Yes, I know father.”

  “Then show it next time, I suppose it wasn’t bad for a first run.”

  Grace freed her leg from the stirrup, she slipped to the ground and put the reins into the hand her father held out.

  “Head back inside and finish the dishes.”

  She nodded.

  “Quite a sight, wasn’t it Mitch?”

  “Quite.
Good evening sir,” and Mitch left the yard.

  ~~~~~

  Mitch was glad to escape. He had slowly grown more annoyed as the day grew on and was now thoroughly ticked having a hard time not showing it. Sheriff Coates seemed determined to work him over into little pieces. Everyone in town seemed to like the lanky larger than life man. He babbled on in such a friendly manner and seemingly understanding when he was finally silent enough for you to speak. But Mitch could not bring himself to like him. The man seemed to be a façade.

  He seemed to be hiding something, not so unlike Grace. She had hinted at an accident, someone’s death, did that have to do with the way he treated his daughter and wife? The way he acted, but if it was an accident, then why did they need to hide it? What happened? What secrets are you trying to hide? Will you put Esperanza Springs in danger? What is going to happen?

  Questions with no answers haunted him as he rode home in the darkness.

  Chapter 17

  Mitch looked forward to his next meeting with Grace, hoping for a few moments alone with her to ask some tactful questions. But those moments never seemed to come. At the 4th of July picnic she went home early, her mother complained of a headache. At the box social the first Saturday of every August, Grace didn’t even attend, though Sheriff Coates was there in full force. He was always there. Mitch was annoyed with the man but kept it to himself. Everyone else seemed pleased with his work, how he was always on top of anything that came up, and deeply involved in the community—but always away from his family.

  The few times Grace did come into town she successfully eluded him with the errands she had to do. Despite the fact that whenever he saw her, she was wearing a smile, he knew that she was growing increasingly unhappy. The few chances he did get close to her she was skittish and shy.

  It was in the second week in August that an unexpected blow struck. Mitch, Clem, and Jip were called into a saloon to break up a fight. The person who had started the brawl—Sheriff Coates himself. He would spend the night in jail until he sobered up. Mitch and a few of the local men including Mr. Slater and Mr. Cunningham rode out to the Coates house. Some of the men wanted answers, why their sheriff had started a horrible brawl, a few were looking for mischief, and one was chosen to break the news.

 

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