The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels)

by Bryant, Cathy

  The older man hesitated. “She does have a cell phone, but made me promise not to give out the number.”

  Why would she keep the number a secret unless she didn’t want him to call? “Mr. Soldano, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna come out and say it. I care about your daughter, and I’m very concerned about her right now. If you hear from her, please tell her I called.” The phone went quiet for a brief moment. Had he revealed too much?

  The man lightly cleared his throat. “I am very touched by your words. The next time I speak to her, I will tell her you called.”

  His chest raised and lowered. “Thank you so much, sir.”

  “De nada.”

  Long after the phone call ended, Matt puzzled over the change in Juan Soldano. What could’ve happened to cause such a drastic difference?

  In a short amount of time, his thoughts returned to Gracie. Hearing her voice wouldn’t happen now, and he had no idea how to reach her. All he could do was pray, do everything he could to get better, and then make his way to Bellview to find Gracie.

  22

  Early Friday morning before work, Grace leaned back against the small sofa and closed her eyes, her heart heavy. Lord, open my eyes to see Your goodness all around me. Help me get past this loneliness and to be patient with the process of living in a new town. Show me how to put the past behind me and move forward.

  In spite of her desire to get on with her life, her thoughts turned to Matt and how much she missed him. She’d almost phoned several times, but changed her mind at the last minute, fearful of interrupting a rehearsal or waking him too early after a late-night concert. Maybe he’d be back in Miller’s Creek over Christmas, but would he have anything to do with her after the way she’d treated him?

  She took a sip of coffee and then sat her cup on the box she used as a coffee table, reflecting over the first week in Bellview. Mr. Thomas had proved to be short-tempered. If something she said or did didn’t suit him, he hollered about it until tears threatened. Thankfully, her new boss was out of the office more than he was in.

  The still-unnamed cat jumped to the box and sent her cup crashing to the floor. Coffee splashed onto her skirt and quickly soaked floral-design scarf Grace used as a tablecloth. The pesky animal then leapt to the floor and licked up the rest as though the heinous act was intentional.

  Grace hurriedly snatched up the scarf and ran to the sink to rinse it before it stained. The scarf was one of only a few items she had that once belonged to Mama. After draping the wet scarf over the countertop to dry, she stepped to the bedroom to change.

  Her cell phone rang. That would be Jason. At least he’d been faithful in calling to check on her, though she hadn’t yet garnered the courage to ask why Consuela didn’t know him. It seemed too personal a question to ask for some reason. She answered the phone and infused her tone with a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “Good morning.”

  “How’s my girl? Is Thomas treating you well?”

  How was she supposed to answer that question without sounding like a total ingrate?

  Jason interrupted her thoughts. “Can’t talk long this morning—busy day ahead—but I did want to let you know I won’t be calling tonight or tomorrow.”

  The news fell on her ears like an aftershock to an earthquake kind of week. Great. Now she had an extra twenty minutes of twiddling her thumbs over the weekend. “How come?” Grace hated the neediness in her voice.

  “I can’t really say, but I promise to make it up to you. Trust me?”

  Good question. Did she? She shelved the thought and turned back to the conversation. “Of course, but I’ll miss talking to you.”

  Jason’s soft laughter filtered through the phone. “Have a great day, love.”

  “You too.” The deep aching loneliness returned. Was it because the weekend stretched ahead of her like a lonely gaping hole and no way to fill it?

  Snap out of it, Grace. A determined deep breath bolstered her flagging spirit. She rushed to change clothes so she could get to work on time. It wouldn’t be wise to anger her cigar-chewing boss on payday.

  The day flew quicker than she expected. Mr. Thomas was out most of the day—only at the office long enough to give her a stack of work and a lower-than-expected check. During the lunch hour, she allowed herself the luxury of daydreaming about how she’d spend her first weekend in Bellview, refusing to sit around and mope.

  As soon as the clock hit five, she was out the door, eager to be free of the confines of the smelly office. She traded her skirt for a favorite pair of blue jeans. Her first stop would be the thrift store on the opposite corner to pick up a few things for the apartment. And tomorrow she’d visit the public library.

  After feeding the cat, Grace moved to the stairs that exited the building in the back. She’d just clomped down the rickety steps when a fancy black car pulled into the overgrown alleyway. Her heart bounded to her throat. Jason?

  The car screeched to a stop and the door swung open. It was him. She hurried over as he unfolded his tall frame from the sports car. “Jason!”

  Though his face held a frown its familiarity instantly boosted her spirits. He returned her embrace. “Where were you going?”

  “I thought I’d explore the town. What are you doing here?”

  He planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Here to make sure you stay out of trouble. It appears I arrived at just the right time.”

  Now Grace frowned. Why did she get the distinct impression that he hadn’t intended the comment as a joke?

  Jason treated Grace to a nice dinner Friday evening, driving several miles to a well-known steakhouse. They pulled into a gravel parking lot full of vehicles. Though the unassuming building and middle-of-nowhere location gave no clue to the quality of food within, the heavenly smells brought a rumble to her stomach as soon as she exited the car. A private plane landed on the restaurant’s airstrip as they entered, yet another tribute to the delicious menu.

  Determined to enjoy this brief respite from her lonely life, Grace scarfed down her chicken-fried steak and creamed potatoes in short order, most likely the after-effects of a week of rationing her meager supply of food. In sharp-contrast to her jolly mood, Jason stared into the distance throughout their time together, lacking the warmth he’d exhibited on previous occasions. Instead he alternated between bored and demanding, like being here with her was the last thing he wanted. At other moments, he clung to her and refused to let her out of his sight.

  On the way back to the apartment, Grace gnawed the lining of her cheek. Had she said or done something wrong? Several times during the course of the evening, she’d tried to bring him around, but to no avail. Why was he acting so strange? The confusion that plagued her steps during the last few weeks in Miller’s Creek returned, a heavy fog which enveloped her brain and heart.

  Jason jerked to a quick stop in front of her building. “I’ll pick you up in the morning for breakfast.” He made no attempt to kiss her or to come around to open the door, nor did he wait until she safely reached the top step of the worn stairs before he sped off into the night.

  After breakfast at a local pancake house Saturday morning, they drove to Abilene for a day of Christmas shopping. Though it was pleasant to stroll through the mall decorated in fragrant Christmas greenery and to sing along with familiar carols, she had no money to spend on gifts and was too embarrassed to tell him why she made no purchases. Finally they both agreed to end the day early. Mid-afternoon Jason deposited her at the exterior staircase with a quick peck on the cheek. “I have to get back to Miller’s Creek, but I’ll try to call tomorrow.”

  The tail lights of his car disappeared around the curve in the road, and an overwhelming sense of relief came over her. She rolled her head in a circle to relieve the tension that had built in her neck and shoulders from trying to please him. Was it wrong to be glad she had at least one day left in her weekend to enjoy?

  Sunday morning she woke with a smile. She’d looked forward to this day
since Wednesday morning when she met Jake and Julia. The name of the church had first captured her attention on the drive into town—Grace Fellowship. If there were any two things she needed most, these most certainly fit the bill—grace and fellowship.

  After a tepid shower, she fixed a bowl of cereal and spread the Miller’s Creek newspaper that had arrived in the mail late yesterday afternoon out on the counter. In the upper center on the front page, a picture of Elena loomed below a headline that simply read: “Delgado Investigated.” She gasped and dropped her spoon to the table.

  Grace scanned the article, her mouth still open wide. Just as she’d expected, Scott Evans had been arrested for the murder of Michael Bedford. No mention was made of David Simmons, the original suspect. The thought that Simmons had managed to frame his friend for the crime nauseated her.

  She focused in on Elena’s picture, obviously taken shortly after the news had broken. Instead of the confident and classy woman she’d once admired, the person who stared back at her exhibited no hint of pride or vanity. Her once perfect hair and makeup no longer existed, replaced by a disheveled appearance, which mirrored the pain inscribed on her face.

  Grace moved to the couch, unable to peel her eyes away from the picture. Something inside her broke and gave way, and tears flooded her face, depositing their salty tang on her tongue. Gone was her previous resentment and vindictive desire, replaced by a love and compassion she didn’t know was humanly possible. Yes, her suspicions had at last been justified, but her heart ached to think of how this would affect not only Elena, but also Consuela, Jessie, and even Jason. She offered up a heartfelt prayer for the situation and the people involved, then headed back to the bedroom to get ready for worship.

  An hour later, both excited and a little nervous, she entered the back of the country church, and gave her eyes time to adjust to the low light. The building smelled of the same orange oil Papa used on the wooden tables at the restaurant, and the small nave led into a sanctuary lined with wooden pews. The worn benches and stained-glass windows hinted at the age of the building, but the place was obviously tended with care.

  Jake shuffled toward her from the front of the church, Julia close behind. They both greeted her with hugs.

  “So glad you could make it, Gracie.” Jake spoke her schoolgirl name as though he’d used it her entire life. Surprisingly enough, she took it as a compliment, though it set off a longing in her heart to see Matt and to hear his voice.

  She moved a hand to her abdomen to still the restless butterflies and returned their smiles. “Thank you. Good to be here.”

  “Come on in and have a seat. The rest of the congregation should be here shortly. We’re not a big group, but what we lack in quantity, we make up for in quality.” He finished the comment with a wink.

  The morning went by in a blur—a brief meeting together for song and prayer before dismissing to different rooms behind the main building for small group Bible study. Afterward they all returned to the peaceful sanctuary for more music and a sermon.

  Jake spoke the sermon with such fervor and authenticity Gracie could only attribute it to moving of the Holy Spirit. His face glowed as he relayed the familiar story of Jonah, and left her more enthralled and in love with God and His grace. To the prophet, the Ninevites seemed barbaric, but to Sovereign God and His holy heart of grace, they were a people greatly-loved.

  The congregation rose to their feet and began to sing Amazing Grace. She focused her thoughts and prayers on the message God placed in her heart.

  “Amazing grace! How sweet the sound . . . ”

  She drank in the sweetness, though she suspected her finite mind could never fully comprehend or plumb its depths.

  “. . . that saved a wretch like me!”

  Gracie closed her eyes, lifting her palms to the heavens in praise. Matt was right. There was nothing good enough in her to merit such a gift.

  “’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved . . .”

  Through difficulty her heart had feared and turned to God, making even Mama’s tragic death an act of grace. That same grace had turned her fears to faith.

  “ . . . How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed!”

  The scarlet thread of grace wove its way through history, from the blood on the doors of the Hebrew people on that first Passover, to the blood shed by the perfect Lamb of God.

  “Through many dangers, toils and snares . . . ”

  She brought one hand to her chest and thumped to the beat, swaying with the music. God’s grace surrounded them all, even the people who’d tried to destroy her.

  “. . . I have already come . . . ”

  Circumstances which once seemed impossible brimmed with His grace, a grace which prodded her to gaze on her sinfulness and respond to His invitation to change and become more like Christ.

  “’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.

  Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze at rest on the rough-hewn cross on the back wall of the baptistry.

  “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we first begun.”

  Inside her heart ached with the fullness of what Jesus had done for her. A tear slipped from her cheek to the worn wood of the ancient pew in front of her. Her sins had been washed away by wave upon wave of grace. God didn’t dispense grace in drops, but in torrents. Grace was a never-ending ocean, and Christ’s rough-timber cross the bridge that spanned the distance between sinful man and Holy God.

  When the song ended, Jake dismissed the service in prayer, and afterwards many members of the congregation shook her hand or even hugged her neck and told her they hoped she’d come back again. Julia hurried by, calling out over her shoulder as she passed. “Please don’t leave yet. We’d like to have you over to our house for lunch. I have just a few things I need to pick up from my classroom first.”

  The parsonage sat directly behind the church, and a brief walk landed them in its cozy comfort. As they entered the front door, the fragrance of pot roast wafted to Gracie’s nose. Mama. The smell reminded her of Mama, a sweet memory she’d almost forgotten.

  She gazed around the tiny space as Julia bustled to the kitchen cabinets to set the table. Worn and sagging furniture lined the living room, covered with crocheted love . . . just like the home she’d shared with Papa and her brothers in Miller’s Creek. Tears filled her eyes and slipped unbidden down her cheeks.

  “Are you okay?” Loving concern radiated spilled from Julia’s face and voice. Jake moved in closer as well, the same tenderness shining from his eyes.

  Gracie managed a nod.

  The elderly man sent an understanding smile. “Why don’t we ask the blessing and eat. Then we’ll take it from there.”

  After a delightful and delicious lunch of roast, potatoes, carrots, and homemade rolls they moved to the living room. The conversation turned to Gracie’s life, and she released the entire story—Mama’s death, her tenuous relationship with Papa, the problems she’d had with Elena, her confused feelings for Matt and Jason, even the terrible mistake of breaking into Andy’s office. An hour later, she rested her head against the cushy couch, a weight lifted from her chest and shoulders.

  Neither Jake nor Julia treated her like the sinner she was, but continued to extend the same kindness and grace they’d shown from the beginning. Jake patted her hand, his eyes kind and wise. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re actually in a good place when you recognize your sinfulness.”

  A smile touched her face. “After my experience today, I think I actually get that. It’s only when I recognize the depth of my depravity that I also recognize my need for a Savior and can fully accept His gift of grace. But the hardest part is coming to grips with my sinfulness. I belonged to Him and still went the wrong way.”

  The old man gave his head a shake, his eyes bright beneath his white bushy eyebrows. “Where sin aboun
ds, grace abounds even more, Gracie. God doesn’t change. His grace is—and always has been—enough. Not just for your sin, but for the sin of the entire world throughout history.”

  Guilt continued to prick her insides. “Then why can’t I forgive myself?”

  Jake nodded, one corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “That’s the tough part, isn’t it? Part of the reason lies with the enemy of our souls. Satan wants to keep us in a position of guilt. He’ll keep reminding you—and use others to remind you—but one day you’ll reach the point where your understanding of God’s love and grace is greater than the guilt the accuser lays on your shoulders. The only way to get to that place is to remind yourself that Christ has already paid the price.”

  Her throat so engorged with tears she could barely speak, Grace peered into Jake’s kind eyes. “I’m like Jonah. I let my anger, vindictiveness, and my selfishness become an excuse to not do what God wanted me to do—to forgive, to extend mercy, and to seek reconciliation.”

  “That’s always been His plan.” The gracious old man released a soft sigh and stood to refill his coffee cup. “We’re all like Jonah to a certain extent. To forgive really is divine. It doesn’t come so easy to us humans, even when we’ve been the recipients of it on a far greater level than we’ll ever realize.” He took a sip, shuffled back her way, and eased his frail frame onto the worn-out chair, the scent of his coffee preceding him. “But the real question you should be asking is what are you going to do now?”

  What indeed? The question consumed her thoughts. Lord, help me know and do what You want. Her cell phone vibrated and buzzed from within her purse. When she reached to silence it, the number caught her attention. Consuela.

  With apologies to her hosts, Gracie stepped outside under an ancient live oak to take the call.

  Consuela’s tearful voice pleaded with her. “Oh, Grace, we need you. Elena is not doing well. Can you please come quickly?”

  What are you going to do now? Jake’s question resounded once more in her head, and she brought a trembling hand to her lips. While part of her longed to linger in the shade of the vine God provided as a temporary respite, deep down she knew she couldn’t stay. Her place was in Miller’s Creek. Of all people, Elena Delgado needed her help.