An immediate pain sprung to his throat, and Matt swallowed against it. His psych books would label it as “abandonment issues,” a technical term that somehow lessened what he often felt. “I think I’ll always struggle with truly opening myself up to a woman, even though I know in my head that fear doesn’t come from God.”
“That’s how you’ll know you’ve found the right one. You’ll love her so much the fear goes away.” He picked up his fork and resumed eating, the seriousness of the moment dissipating. “And don’t sell yourself short. I don’t know anyone as talented or as good-hearted as you. I still feel bad about taking that money.”
Matt raised a hand. “Stop. I owed you for all the times you helped me out during school.”
“I never expected it back. It was an invest—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know . . . an investment, not a loan.” He sent his brother a grin. “And I appreciate the sentiment. But your baby brother is a grown-up now. You don’t have to keep blazing a trail for me. I can do it on my own.”
“Now you sound like my wife.” Andy took another bite. “So you’re doing okay? Financially, I mean.”
“Yep. Have the royalty money for those two songs I sold saved up and spoke with a guy from Nashville this morning who’s interested in a few others.”
“Way to go.” Andy held up a hand for a high five.
Matt slapped his brother’s hand then focused on his food, adding a bit to his mouth. “I appreciate you letting me hang out here while I figure out where God wants me next.”
“No problem. Glad to have you around. In fact, Trish and I were wondering if you might be interested in taking over the equine ministry while she takes care of the baby.”
His radar went up. Since Andy and Trish started the ministry two years ago, the number of people they’d helped undoubtedly reached into the hundreds if not the thousands. “Sounds like it would be right up my alley, but I can’t promise I’ll do it on a permanent basis at this point. What all does the job entail?”
“Trish has a great band of volunteers who help the kids while they’re on the horses, but you’d need to be there to supervise. We have some kids that would really benefit from counseling.”
His heart did a queer flop within his chest. Counseling hurt kids would be just the sort of work he’d love to do. A way to offer others the help he’d needed as a kid. “Sounds interesting, but I need to pray about it first.” Even as he spoke the words he knew this was a ministry he could be passionate about.
“The pay isn’t great, but we could give you the top floor of the old Miller mansion to live in free of charge, and you could probably pick up a few clients in the area.”
Big brother to the rescue once more. Matt tossed the idea around in his head. “The Miller mansion? You mean that ginormous house on the ranch you showed me last time I was down?”
“Yep. Trish’s dad used to live there, but he moved to town when he married Mama Beth. Now we use the bottom floor as ranch headquarters and the equine therapy office.”
Mama Beth. He hadn’t thought about her until now. “How’s Mama Beth doing?”
A wry grin lifted one corner of Andy’s mouth. “Unstoppable as always.”
Matt’s lips involuntarily curved into a smile at the thought of the matriarch of Miller’s Creek, her heart bigger than Texas. How many times had he been the recipient of her wisdom? A waitress hurried by with a tray of fresh food, the aroma wafting their way. His thoughts returned to the Miller mansion. “As I recall that place had a bathtub big enough to swim in.”
Andy let out a laugh. “Huge. You could have a bubble bath any time you wanted.” He waggled his eyebrows and winked. “Anyway, we’d love to have you stay on long-term.”
Long term? A sudden flash of clarity lit his brain. There was only one way he would be in Miller’s Creek long-term, and it all depended on Gracie. He couldn’t bear the thought of staying around to see her build her perfect world with someone else. He attempted to clear his throat of the knot that had grown there. “We’ll see where God leads.”
As they finished up the last few bites of lunch in silence, a policeman swaggered to their table, his Billy stick wagging at his side. “How’s it going, Andy?” He spoke the words with a friendly smile that curled his caterpillar mustache into an inverted rainbow.
“Good, Ernie. How ‘bout yourself?” Andy shook his hand.
“Can’t complain.”
Andy held out an arm in Matt’s direction. “This is my brother Matt. Ernie’s the chief of police for Miller’s Creek.”
Ernie gave him a quick look and brief nod then turned his focus back to Andy.
Typical reaction. Small-town people always treated him that way. Sized him up with one glance then dismissed him as unimportant. He’d known when he came here people probably wouldn’t accept him because he didn’t act like them. Fine by him. He wasn’t about to change who he was to please anybody. Matt picked up the check and excused himself from the table, headed to where Gracie’s dad stood at the register. “Hey, Mr. Soldano. Good to see you again.”
“Was everything satisfactory?” Juan Soldano rang up the ticket without looking his way.
“Great as usual.” Matt laid down a twenty. “Saw Gracie earlier. You must be very proud of her and her accomplishments.”
The man plopped the change down on the counter and glared back at him from beneath bushy black brows. “I would appreciate it if you stayed away from my daughter.” Without another word, he scurried from the counter and through the stainless steel doors that led to the kitchen, his final words knifing through Matt’s heart.
Apparently Mr. Soldano had the same opinion of him as Gracie and the rest of the town.
3
Everyone wanted justice unless they were the one on trial. Then they longed for mercy to rain down on them—even to the point of being willing to pay for it.
Grace ran a hand down her neck to smooth down goose bumps. Thank goodness this first week was almost over. Maybe next week Sandra would be back, and she could become an attorney at last. Outside a blast of thunder boomed, and a storm unleashed its fury on the Miller County courthouse.
Today even the warm-toned wood panels encasing the courtroom seemed cold and austere, most likely because of her close proximity to the man on trial. A shudder rippled through her body. Her first time in a courtroom since she’d passed the bar, but not at all the kind of case she would’ve preferred. At least it would give her a chance to see up-and-coming prosecutor Elena Delgado in action. She’d pick up some pointers and make herself known in the legal community at the same time.
She inhaled in an attempt to steady her nerves, the musty scent of the old building tickling her nose. If only it were a different case. Andy had insisted she attend the trial, though she couldn’t fathom why, especially since she wasn’t involved with the case, and Sandra was still on sick leave. While she appreciated the invitation, the subject matter threatened to resurrect memories she’d rather leave buried.
Jason slid into the seat beside her. “Fancy seeing you here.”
She smiled and adjusted her hair. One thing she hadn’t taken into consideration was Jason being here. He’d been unexpectedly attentive all week, and she’d grown to enjoy their encounters. “Andy insisted.”
His lips parted in a lazy smile. “Same here.”
Everything about him was exceptional, from his dark complexion to his sapphire eyes, and it didn’t hurt that he’d quickly earned a reputation in Miller’s Creek as an expert defense attorney and philanthropist.
Just as she gathered the gumption to initiate further conversation, a heavy wooden door swung open. Judge Clark entered, his black robe billowing behind as he made his way to the bench. Everyone rose to their feet, and the hollow thud of shoes against aged wood floors echoed like icy bars of jail cell doors slammed shut.
Though Grace stood behind the accused—who today looked more like an altar boy than a criminal—somewhere in the gallery was a grieving family for who
m every fiber of her being cried out for justice. The thought dumped a bad taste in her mouth.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you’re about to hear the opening statements in the case of the State of Texas against David Simmons.” The judge rattled off the words routinely despite the gravity of the situation, as if his life’s work had become a creek which had long since gone dry in the drought of life’s pressures. “This man is innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Your job is to discern the truth by the evidence and testimony presented during the course of this trial and to respond with a just verdict.” He raised his gaze to the gallery, the bags beneath his eyes like those of a sad hound dog, and turned his attention to the opposite table. “Is the prosecution ready?”
A stylish woman, probably in her thirties, stood. “Yes, Your Honor.” Though slight in stature, everything else about Elena Delgado was larger than life.
Grace eyed the prosecutor’s designer suit and shoes and then glanced down at her own thrift store blouse and skirt. Far from perfect, but all she could afford at the moment. Hmm, maybe she should use part of her next paycheck to purchase a new outfit or two, like the flouncy skirt and fitted suit jacket Elena Delgado wore. After all, if she wanted to make a good impression in the legal community she needed to dress the part. She glanced at Jason from the corner of her eyes. His attention riveted on Elena, and his face glowed with a curious light.
“Is the defense ready?”
Andy Tyler rose to his feet in front of her, his jaw set with the determination of someone intent on seeing justice done. How could a man as kind as him represent scum like David Simmons? “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Then let’s begin. We’re ready for the prosecution’s opening statement.”
Elena’s Christian Louboutin heels clacked against the floors as she made her way to the jury box. She came to a stop in front of them, somewhat like a humble schoolgirl. “Good morning. Thank you for giving time away from your loved ones to provide justice for a family who lost their only child at the hands of a negligent driver.”
Grace’s admiration for Elena’s legal skills skyrocketed. In a few words, she’d delivered the heart of the case flawlessly, and in a way that complemented the jurors.
Elena paused in an obvious effort to control her emotions and gestured toward the screen. “This photograph of the victim, Michael Bedford, was taken a week before he was to return home for Christmas break. A time he was especially looking forward to because it had been four long months since he’d seen his family.”
The screen flashed to a very different picture, and bile rose in Grace’s throat. An involuntary shiver crawled down her spine. This shot revealed a darkened road and authorities hovered over a lifeless body.
A hushed gasp rose from the crowd, and a low murmur spread across the room. “This . . .” Elena’s voice wavered. “This is the result of an irresponsible joy ride that ended in death.”
A wave of nausea swept over Grace as unbidden memories flashed to the front of her mind. She brought a shaky hand to her lips.
The air tingled with electric anticipation as Elena moved behind the lectern, removed her designer glasses, and made eye contact with the jurors. “The evidence will prove that on the evening of December twelfth of last year, David Simmons recklessly took the life of one of his classmates, leaving a hole in this family that can never be filled.”
She turned to the table where Andy sat with David Simmons. “The defense will have you believe the defendant was out enjoying an evening with friends, that he wasn’t responsible. They want you to think Mr. Simmons has been falsely accused, but evidence will prove otherwise.” She faced the jury once more, her voice full of conviction. “Your task is a heavy one, but I trust your common sense will win out. After hearing the facts, you’ll have no other recourse but to find this monster,” she gestured with an outstretched arm toward David Simmons, “guilty of vehicular homicide.”
Her words seemed to gain a life of their own as they hung in the air. The defendant furtively whispered something in Andy’s ear. Her boss merely patted him on the back and shot an encouraging smile before he turned his attention to the bench.
“The defense may now make an opening statement.”
Grace watched in fascination. Andy’s approach to the jury box was altogether different than Elena’s. In typical laid-back style, with hands in pockets, he slowly raised his eyes to the screen. “I saw the looks of horror on your faces when Ms. Delgado flashed this picture. What you see is clearly the result of a terrible tragedy. We’d all agree—me included—that someone should pay. But only if Michael Bedford’s death was intentional, which it wasn’t.” Andy spoke the words in his usual Texas drawl.
An unlikely mixture of respect and disgust rose inside Grace. Her boss had easily bridged a seemingly impossible gap. It was clear to see that the jury hung on his every word.
Grace sighed and lowered her head. She couldn’t just ignore the likelihood that David Simmons was guilty. She’d seen his type before, and on more than one occasion, the stereotypical over-indulged son of wealthy parents who could afford to buy justice to cover whatever crimes their “innocent” child had committed. He’d most likely grown up with every advantage and was used to getting what he wanted. When anyone was bold enough to tell him “no,” he took it anyway or made them pay.
Andy leaned his weight against the table and crossed his arms and legs, his gaze now focused on the jurors. “We’ll show that Mr. Simmons was not responsible.” He waved an arm toward the screen. “Ms. Delgado knows her best chance of indicting my client is to make you think he’s a monster. In fact, she’s already labeled him as such. In a subtle way, the prosecution has already toyed with your emotions and dislikes.”
An immediate frown sprung to Grace’s forehead. Some of the members of the jury turned their gaze toward Elena Delgado, as if seeing her in a new light.
Andy’s voice brought their attention back to him. “I’m asking you to put all that aside and give David Simmons the benefit of a doubt until after you’ve seen the evidence and heard the testimonies. Prove to him that you’re better and smarter than Ms. Delgado gives you credit for.”
Elena visibly stiffened, her face starched crisp and hard. She lowered her head and scribbled furiously on a legal pad.
Meanwhile, Andy moved to stand behind David Simmons. “I have to admit Ms. Delgado is right on one account.” He paused for effect. “You do have a tough job. You have to decide who’s lying and who’s telling the truth. The evidence we present will prove this man’s innocence, which brings us to a different crime being committed here.” He placed both hands on David’s shoulders. “Being accused of something you didn’t do.”
That afternoon, Grace leaned against the polished panels of wood that lined the hallways in the courthouse and massaged both temples, hoping to relieve not only the throbbing ache in her head but also her churning stomach. Everyone deserved a fair trial, but it was sometimes a hard pill to swallow when it came to people like David Simmons.
She gazed down the crowded foyer. Attorneys, clasping their expensive leather attaches, grouped together, laughing and conversing. Her whole motive for becoming a lawyer was to ensure that guys like Simmons were put away to keep them from hurting anyone else. And now, by virtue of the fact that Andy played such an instrumental part in her education, she found herself working the wrong side of the courtroom. What she wouldn’t give to be in Elena Delgado’s uber-expensive high heels.
Across the hall, Andy emerged from the men’s room and made his way through the crowd to where she stood. “You look beat, Gracie.”
She cringed at the use of her schoolgirl name and glanced around hoping no one heard him. “I am pretty tired. Just observing this case is exhausting.”
“I’ll second that. Try doing it with a newborn at home. I know this is a hard one for you to watch right out of the gate, but I can explain.” He latched on to her elbow and guided her toward the door, looking back over his shoul
der. “Where’s Jason? I wanted to talk to you two about something.”
Talk with both of them? About what? “He already left. Said something about needing to get back to Miller’s Creek.”
Andy frowned and fell silent for a few steps. “Yeah, I hoped to get back to meet Matt for lunch. Maybe there’s still time.”
Grace struggled to keep distaste from her expression and her tone. “Guess he’ll be here a few days before he’s off chasing another rainbow.”
Andy’s face hardened. “Actually, he might help Trish out with the equine ministry while she’s home on maternity leave. He could be here several months.”
Help with the equine ministry? Matt hadn’t mentioned it, nor had he let let her know he’d graduated and started on his doctorate. What else had he omitted?
She spied a small puddle of water—most likely the result of someone’s drippy umbrella—and tried to dodge, but Andy crashed into her just as her foot hit the wet spot. Both feet slid out from under her, and she landed smack on her bottom.
Heat blistered her face as the room quieted and all eyes turned her way. Well, she’d made herself known to the legal community all right—just not in a good way.
At precisely that moment, Elena Delgado, as pretty and intimidating up close as she was from a distance, rounded the corner, coming face-to-face with Andy. “Trying to run me over, counselor?” She glanced down at Grace for a brief moment before she faced Andy again. Her perfectly made-up lips took on a smirk. “Guess that’s one way to win a case.”
“I’ll stick to doing it fair and square,” Andy returned lightly as he helped Grace to her feet. “Sorry about that. You okay?”
She struggled to stand, piecing together her wounded pride. Of all times to fall, it would have to be in front of Elena Delgado.
The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels) Page 4