But For Grace (HEARTSONG PRESENTS - HISTORICAL)

by Tracey V. Bateman

  Giving him no chance to apologize, Ma spun around with a surprising agility, given her girth, and stomped to her room.

  Drumming his fingers along the smooth oak table, Michael felt the shame sear his heart. Maybe Ma was right. If he out and out asked Star if she had stolen from her guardian, would she admit to it? But if she denied the accusation, how could he ever believe her?

  Ten

  Star slowly roused to the rumble of thunder outside her window. After enduring storms for three days in a row, she was becoming accustomed to nature’s way of waking her. She rolled over, buried her face in her pillow, and wished desperately she could sink back into sleep and forget about her dismal life. Instead, she opened her eyes to the wet, gray morning that intruded into her room through the white lacy curtain hanging from the window.

  Sunshine might have made facing a new day bearable. As it was, the only things she had to look forward to were rain and mud. . .more loud men and haughty women demanding that she move quicker than humanly possible. . .more insults from Jane. . .more yelling from Joe.

  As if the stormy days weren’t enough to douse her already drooping spirits, lack of sleep made her eyes feel gritty. Every single inch of her body ached, and she’d have gladly donated a week’s salary for thirty more minutes of slumber. But sleep wasn’t an option. She had to wash and dress, tidy up her section of the room she shared with Rosemary, eat a bite of breakfast, drop off her laundry with Mrs. Barker for the obscene price of one dollar a week, and get to work.

  She’d always worked hard; but after one month of backbreaking, twelve-hour days serving meals at Joe’s, she had to admit this was the most difficult task she’d ever undertaken. It might not be so bad if she could discern an end in sight. If she could dream for the future. But her dreams had died with her mother; and the days, months, and years stretched before her in gloomy premonition. There was no Prince Charming. No knight on a white steed. No castle. This was life and, tedious as it might be, she was making an honest, respectable living. Not what she’d choose, if she had a choice, but infinitely preferable to the life she would have faced at Luke’s Saloon.

  A sigh escaped as Star rolled onto her back and lifted her Bible from the table between her cot and Rosemary’s bed. Daily time with the Lord was the only thing Star felt she had to look forward to, and she gave up extra sleep in order to receive that life-sustaining nourishment every morning before she left the comfort and warmth of her bed. She opened up to the Psalms and let the words of a man after God’s own heart lead her, comfort her, and draw her into fellowship with her Shepherd.

  Thirty minutes later, ready to face the rainy weather, she pushed aside the covers and began the process of preparing for the next fifteen hours.

  By noon, Star realized she’d been kidding herself. Thirty minutes alone with God was nowhere near enough to keep from wishing she could slap Jane right across the face.

  “Star, you forgot to take Mr. Gabriel his coffee.” Jane’s haughty accusations never failed to annoy Star. More so now that she realized the girl was trying to humiliate her at every turn. Star had come to the conclusion that Joe’s employee problems weren’t so much his fault as they were a result of his daughter’s nasty disposition.

  “I didn’t forget to take him the coffee, Jane,” she said, forcing herself not to grit her teeth. “I had to take Mr. and Mrs. Arnold their food before it got cold.” She refrained from reminding the girl that it wasn’t even her job to wait on the Arnolds. As was becoming a habit, Jane neglected her customers shamefully, forcing Star to take care of them. Star wouldn’t mind so much if there were a legitimate reason, but it seemed the girl did it purposely so that she could make it appear Star was the one neglecting the restaurant patrons. Star desperately wanted to defend herself, but she was trying hard to heed the Bible’s advice to “do good to those who hurt you.”

  “Well, don’t blame me if Mr. Gabriel complains about you to Pa.” With that, Jane flounced away.

  Gritting her teeth, Star took the coffeepot and headed toward the dining room.

  “Star.”

  She turned, steadying herself for another customer she didn’t have enough hands to take care of. Her pulse quickened as she met Michael’s gaze. He sat alone at a table in the center of the room. How she had failed to notice him, Star couldn’t fathom, but she didn’t take time to ponder the question. Her hand went instinctively to her head, and she smoothed back her hair in a futile effort to appear presentable.

  “Michael,” she said breathlessly. “What are you doing here in the middle of the day?”

  “My ax handle busted. Came into town to get another one.” He gave her a grin that Star could only describe as devastating. “I thought I’d stop by for a quick hello and a bite of lunch.”

  And to see me? Star forced the hopeful words from her mind before foolishly voicing them.

  “How about my coffee, Miss Star?”

  From two tables over, Mr. Gabriel’s voice arrested Star’s attention. Her cheeks flooded with warmth. “Excuse me a minute, Michael. I’ll be right back to get your order.”

  “Take your time,” he said softly.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Gabriel.”

  The jovial man gave her a broad smile, his attitude far removed from the impatience of a man who might complain to the boss about lack of service. “I hate to begrudge a young man the pleasure of conversing with a beauty such as yourself, but I need my warm cup of coffee on such a miserable day.”

  Wishing desperately that his voice didn’t boom as loudly as the thunder outside, Star poured his coffee.

  She turned back to Michael but couldn’t quite bring herself to look him in the eye. “What can I get for you?”

  He cleared his throat. “You can look at me, first of all.”

  Reluctantly, she did so.

  “How are you?” His voice was so filled with genuine concern, Star couldn’t help the tears that sprang to her eyes. She lowered her lashes, but not quickly enough.

  “Why don’t you come home? Ma can still use someone to help her out with the house and Aimee.”

  Briefly, she considered his offer—even allowed herself a split-second dream that Michael would fall in love with her, but a bellow from Joe brought her back to reality. “Star, get over here and pick up these orders!”

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I have to go. H–have you decided what you’d like to eat?”

  With a scowl, he ordered a steak.

  Hurrying about her duties, Star didn’t have a moment to breathe, let alone continue her disconcerting conversation with Michael. When she saw him rise and glance in her direction, she tried to go to him and say good-bye, but a customer stopped her.

  His expression darkened in disappointment. She shrugged and smiled, then lifted her hand in farewell. With a reluctant smile of his own, he returned her wave, then stepped out the door, leaving a cavern in her heart.

  “Forget about him.” Jane brushed by her and spoke the words for Star’s ears only. “He’s not worth it. None of them are worth it.”

  Star finished taking the order, then followed Jane to the kitchen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The girl snorted. “Don’t try to deny being in love with him. It’s written plainly on your face.”

  Star tried to appear nonchalant, but inwardly she groaned at Jane’s words. Had she really been that transparent? Grabbing a tray, she filled the order for an impatient couple with twin sons. She remained silent, hoping Jane would let the matter drop, but Jane followed her back into the dining room and continued to bait her. “A man like that will never marry a girl like you.”

  “Leave it alone, Jane,” Star hissed.

  True to her pattern, Jane continued in her mocking tone. “With your pretty eyes and smooth skin, you might get a man like that to sweet talk you into being alone with him, but don’t fool yourself into thinking he’s in love with you. Better for you to take what you can get out of his interest while it lasts.”

  Star g
asped and swung around to face Jane. As she did so, the plates slid from her tray and crashed to the floor. Staring in horror at the clutter, Star knew Jane had finally succeeded in her efforts. Joe appeared from the kitchen and flew into a rage at the mess.

  “Clean this up and get out of here. And don’t expect to be paid. The wasted food will more than make up for what I owe you this week!”

  Incensed, Star drew herself up with as much dignity as she could muster under the watchful gaze of every customer in the place. “I will not clean up a bit of this mess.” She glared at Jane. “You can clean it up yourself, you hateful, nasty girl.” She hurried to the back, snatched up her bag and shawl, and huffed her way through the dining room.

  As she stepped into the muddy street, the only satisfaction Star received was knowing that Jane would have to clean up the mess. By the time she’d walked only a few steps, her conscience seized her, and with a stomp, she spun around and headed back to Joe’s.

  The dining room buzzed with shocked whispers as she walked back to the mess and knelt down to help Jane clean it up. “There is no way my pa is taking you back.”

  “I don’t expect him to, but it’s not right that you should have to clean up a mess I made. Also, I’d like to apologize for calling you a hateful, nasty girl. I was wrong.”

  The girl gave a short laugh. “Something you learned from that Bible of yours?”

  “Yes,” she answered, unwilling to be goaded into an argument.

  Jane studied her for a second, then scowled. “Anyone in her right mind would have walked out without a second look, especially since you and I both know this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t made you mad.”

  Surprised by the girl’s honesty, Star nodded. “That’s true, but I’m not responsible for your actions. . .just mine.” She stood and deposited the tray with food and empty tin dishes on a nearby table, then glanced at Jane. “I don’t know what I did to make you hate me. I wish we could have worked together. I needed the position. But more than that, I wish I could have convinced you that God loves you, Jane.”

  “No one can convince me of that. Thank you for coming back to help me clean up, but you’d best get out of here before Pa comes out.” She turned, grabbed the tray Star had just set down, and headed back to the kitchen.

  With a sigh, Star left Joe’s once more, this time knowing she’d done all she could to make things right between herself and Jane.

  She stood on the boardwalk and debated whether or not to go to Rosemary’s next door. She wasn’t ready to share her humiliating experience. Instead, she decided to go to the boardinghouse, get into some dry clothes, and practice sewing the doll dresses she’d been working on for Aimee’s birthday. With her mind displaying images of frilly doll things, she stepped heedlessly into the street. She instantly regretted her lack of attention as her boot squished and water rushed in, soaking her stockings. With a groan, she tried to step over the puddle with her other foot, but she overstepped and lost her footing. The ground rose up to meet her in a flash, and she had no chance to regain her balance before plunging headlong into the mud.

  ❧

  Michael’s heart nearly stopped as he watched Star fall. He pulled his team up and wrapped the reins around the brake, then hopped down. The sight of her trying to stand and gain her footing melted him. He slipped his way through the mud, nearly losing his own footing. By the time he reached her, she was sitting at the edge of the road looking pitifully dejected. “Let me help you, Honey.”

  “Oh, Michael.” Rather than take his proffered hand, she covered her face with her own. Seeing that she was in no state of mind to be rational, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his wagon.

  She continued to weep as he set her carefully in the seat and walked around to his own side. He scooted close to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Shhh. Star, don’t cry. It’s just a little mud. It’ll wash off.”

  “M–Mrs. Barker only allows baths on S–Saturday.”

  Michael couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He squeezed her closer for a second, then let her go. He reached inside his pocket and withdrew his handkerchief.

  Star looked from the cloth to his eyes and gave a trembly smile. “Think it’ll do any good?”

  He laughed. “Probably not.”

  She took it anyway and dabbed delicately at her pert little nose.

  Nearly overcome with a desire to take her into his arms and kiss the quivering from her lips, Michael reached for her. The startled look in her eyes brought him back to his senses. He drew back. “Come on,” he said suddenly. “I’ll take you to the boardinghouse, and you can pack a small bag.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come out to the farm and take a bath and spend the night. I’ll bring you back into town early enough to be at work on time.”

  Her eyes filled once more.

  “What is it?”

  “Joe fired me.” She said the words with such remorse, Michael didn’t have the heart to let out the whoop of glee he felt.

  “Why did he do that?”

  A shrug lifted her shoulders. “I dropped a whole tray of food on the floor.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes.”

  The clipped answer signaled her desire not to pursue the matter, so Michael detoured the conversation. “What will you do now?”

  A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “I’m not sure. Mrs. Slavens mentioned to Rosemary just a couple of days ago that she would be looking for domestic help before long. Her housemaid is getting married in a month.”

  Michael tried not to show his exasperation, but he couldn’t understand her at all. “Why not come back home and help Ma out if you’re going to do domestic work anyway?”

  “Because I can’t, that’s all. If Miss Hannah really needed me, I’d come and attend to household duties and not ask for a penny, but we both know she doesn’t. I accepted your generosity long enough. I can’t go back. Something will turn up. God won’t leave me helpless.”

  Realizing the matter was settled in her mind, Michael nodded as he pulled the horses to a stop in front of the boardinghouse. “Then how about coming to the farm anyway? Ma and Aimee have missed you something awful.” He refrained from admitting his own feelings about her absence. There was no reason to lead her on when he could never marry her, though his traitorous heart wanted nothing more than to ask to court her and explore the possibility that she might be the woman for him. No matter how attracted he was to her lovely face and sweet spirit, there was no getting around the fact that she had stolen from her guardian and apparently hadn’t the faintest intention of confessing. How could he overlook the dishonesty when she would be teaching and training his daughter? He walked around to her side of the wagon and reached for her.

  Swallowing past a lump in his throat, he tried to still his racing heart as she slid effortlessly into his arms. “So what do you say? Will you come for a visit? I’ll bring you back tomorrow.” Unless Ma could somehow talk her into staying.

  Star smiled through her mud-caked face and nodded. “All right. Give me ten minutes to gather my things.”

  He started to follow her, but she touched his arm, bringing him to a stop. “You’d best wait out here. Mrs. Barker doesn’t like men callers in the house as it is and, considering my appearance, I’ll have enough explaining to do.”

  Patting her hand, he smiled. “I’ll wait in the wagon.” As rain dripped from the brim of his hat, he started to have second thoughts about taking Star to the farm. As soaked through as she already was, she should probably stay inside rather than coming back out in this weather. He hated the thought of taking a chance that she might get sick and was just about to go and suggest she stay at the boardinghouse when she appeared—still in her wet gown, though she’d replaced her wet shawl with a dry one.

  “Why didn’t you change your dress?” he asked, as he helped her into the wagon.

  A faint blush stained her cheeks. “My other dress is being laundered. I didn’t want to wear
the pretty ones until I get the mud off.”

  “Makes sense.” He climbed into his seat and grabbed the reins. Cutting her a sideways glance, he snatched his hat from his head and set it on hers.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Protecting your head from the rain.”

  “I can’t take your hat. You might get sick.”

  “I’ll take the risk.” He smiled at her look of worry. “Ma’s going to have plenty to say to me as it is about the condition you’re in.”

  She dropped her gaze to her fingers. The large hat covered her face, and he almost snatched it back so he could see her. “My muddy clothes aren’t your fault. You rescued me.”

  For the first time, Michael realized Star felt the spark between them every bit as much as he did. She must wonder why he hadn’t acted on it. He cleared his throat. “Listen, Star. . .”

  She lifted her head, her wide, beautiful eyes waiting expectantly. “Yes?”

  “I know you said before that you didn’t want to discuss your past, but if there’s anything you’d like to. . .” He shifted his gaze back to the horses as a frown creased her brow.

  “Like to what?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “If you have something weighing heavy on your heart, I’ll listen. The Bible says to confess our faults to one another.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “Well, how about you? If there are any faults you’d like to confess, I’d be happy to hear them.”

  Indignation swelled his chest. “Me?”

  “Or don’t you have any faults?” She was baiting him. Michael knew it and still couldn’t keep from walking right into her trap.