Trusting Grace

by Maggie Brendan

  Grace couldn’t see over Warren’s large body, but instantly he tensed and looked around. “This is none of your business, hired man. This is between me and the little lady,” he spat.

  Robert! Thank God. Grace was finally able to take a breath as Warren removed his hand.

  “But it is my business,” growled the sheriff, “and if you don’t turn around and let go of Grace, I can promise you’ll be dead in less than a minute.”

  Hearing the sheriff’s voice, Warren backed off Grace, lifting his heavy body and turning to face him. “She came willingly,” he lied.

  Robert moved in and hit him with a right hook, sending Warren sprawling backward against the iron footboard. “You liar. I should—”

  Sheriff Mendenhall stayed Robert with his hand. “Easy, Robert,” he said with his gun pointed at Warren. “Cuff him.”

  Robert reached into the sheriff’s back pocket and took the cuffs out, but Warren lunged at him, pulling a knife from his boot, and Grace screamed, “Robert, watch out!”

  The two wrestled on the floor until a shot rang out, hitting Warren in the arm as he held the raised knife to Robert’s throat. With a yelp, Warren dropped the knife, held his arm, and sat on the floor like a whipped puppy.

  “Lucky for you that I didn’t shoot you when I had the chance, you lily-livered piece of a man!” the sheriff said. “But I’m sure you won’t be hurting anyone else for a long time.”

  Warren glared at him, his face twisted in anger. Robert clipped the cuffs about Warren’s wrists and yanked him off the floor.

  “I got it from here, Robert,” Sheriff Mendenhall said, shoving Warren toward the door. “See to Grace, and I’ll see you back in town,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  In two strides, Robert was at Grace’s side, and she saw the fury in his eyes as he bent to untie her arms and set her free.

  35

  “Robert, thank God you came!” Grace cried.

  He untied her wrists while she sobbed, then she threw her arms around him.

  “You have your horse to thank for that. Cinnamon came back to the boardinghouse, and I knew something was terribly wrong. I’m glad we got here in time.” He wiped her tears with his thumbs, then cradled her face between his hands. He winced when he saw her cheek was cut, and a nasty lump above her brow was swelling. It might have turned out so differently . . . His prayers for Grace earlier had been answered.

  He held her while she cried, clinging to him. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t.” Robert stroked her hair, which had fallen from its pins and was now a tangled mess about her, and his heart softened. He almost never saw her hair down. It made her appear feminine and vulnerable. “Sweet Grace. I’m so sorry this happened,” he soothed.

  When she was all cried out, she looked at him through swollen eyes. “Warren was angry because I broke it off with him, but he also didn’t like me finding him with someone in the woods. I don’t know what it was about. Still, he wouldn’t let me go.” She hiccupped.

  “Is that right? We need to tell the sheriff about that. I have a hunch he’ll get to the bottom of this after we tell him, but we can talk about it tomorrow. Let’s get you home now.” He yearned to sit right where he was, holding her to his chest, listening to her breathe. But Owen would be worried by now that she hadn’t returned home.

  It was drizzling rain when they made their way to the farm with Grace and Robert both on Cinnamon’s back. Robert talked about the weather to keep Grace’s mind off the last hour with Warren until he noticed her head nodding from his shoulder to his chest. Sometimes that was the way the body dealt with a bad experience or bad news. He’d seen it before.

  Owen was standing at the door, looking out with a worried face when they arrived. Grace woke up, and when she saw her father, started to sniffle as Robert carried her to the front door. He knew she didn’t want to break down in front of Owen and was holding back the tears.

  “Land of Goshen, Grace. I was worried sick when you didn’t come home,” Owen sputtered, running his hand through his hair.

  Robert carried Grace past Owen, whose mouth had dropped in question as he followed them both inside. Once Robert had placed her on the settee, Grace spoke.

  “Pop . . .” But she could say no more.

  Owen stepped to his daughter’s side. “Grace, please tell me what happened.” When he got closer and saw her cheek and head, he gasped. “Lord, have mercy. Who did this to you?”

  “I’m okay now, Pop, only a little bruised and frightened,” she answered.

  Owen sat next to her, taking her hand. “Robert, what happened to my daughter. Did someone try—?”

  “Yes. I can vouch for that. The man is in custody. It was Warren.” Robert watched as Owen tried to process what he was telling him.

  “That low-down scoundrel! I knew there was something strange about that man the last time he was here,” he said after Robert relayed the events to him. “Thank you, Robert, for being there.”

  “I’m glad that I was, and with the sheriff’s help.” Robert looked at Grace. “Owen, if you’ll tell me where to find something to clean her cheek, I’ll do that before I leave.”

  After he’d cleaned Grace’s wound, Robert said, “I think I’ll go on back to town now, Grace, and tell the sheriff what you saw before Warren attacked you. It’s the same thing Tom saw weeks ago, and I have a feeling that the wagon was loaded with the goods meant for Eli’s mercantile. Warren must’ve made a deal with someone to sell the shipments and pocket the money.”

  Robert squeezed her hand, then turned to Owen. “Can I borrow a horse? I think Cinnamon deserves a rubdown and a rest, and I’ll do the rubdown before I leave.”

  “No problem, Robert, and thank you again.” Owen blinked a tear away and blew his nose.

  Robert, still concerned for Grace, said, “Get some sleep. You’re safe now.”

  Grace nodded numbly.

  Despite the late hour, Robert thought he’d stop by and let Ginny know about Warren. It’d be good to have her here with Grace tomorrow, and they should know the facts about Warren, if they didn’t already. Giving Owen a pat on his back, Robert went to take care of Cinnamon, who still stood patiently in the yard, before he took a fresh mount.

  “Just a minute,” Ginny called out to the loud knocking at the door. She and Frank had just retired to the parlor after dinner to talk about his business. Who could be here at this hour? She pushed the lace curtain aside on the door and saw that it was Grace’s hired man. What in the world did he want at this time of the evening? She hoped it wasn’t Owen taking a bad spell suddenly.

  She opened the door. “Robert, come in. I’m surprised to see you.”

  He had a somber look on his face as he stood in her foyer with his hat in his hand. Frank came into the hallway where they were. “Anything wrong with Owen, Robert?”

  “No. It’s Grace.”

  “Grace?” Ginny inhaled sharply. “Is she all right?” Frank grabbed her arm protectively.

  “She is now, but she’s a little shaken up. I thought you should know that on the way back from town after she did some painting for you, she was attacked by Warren, your employee.” He looked from her to Frank.

  Ginny’s hand flew to her face. She could hardly believe it. “Oh no,” she cried, trying not to think the worst.

  “For goodness’ sake! Robert, I was about to tell Ginny that I fired Warren today, but I never knew he’d do something so horrendous.”

  “You did?” Ginny jerked her head around to look at her husband. “I must go to her.” A knot coiled in the pit of her stomach, and she prayed Warren hadn’t . . . No, she mustn’t think that. Robert said she was all right.

  “I’ll take you,” Frank said to her. “I won’t let you go alone.”

  “No,” Robert said. “I mean, she’s resting now, but could you go in the morning? I think the sheriff is going to want to talk to you tonight, Frank.”

  “Me? I don’t understand,” Frank barked.

  �
�There’s a little more to what Warren might have been up to besides working for you.” Robert donned his hat. “I’m going over to the sheriff’s now. If you want to come along, I’ll explain on the way.”

  “Yes, of course. I won’t be long, honey.” Frank kissed her brow.

  They left and Ginny returned to the parlor but couldn’t sit still. She paced the floor and moved knick-knacks around while her mind whirled. Was it Frank’s firing that caused Warren’s attack on her friend, or was it the other mysterious issue that Robert referred to? Either way she was glad that he would be out of their lives. She was sorry she’d ever set Grace up with him. She eventually sat down, rubbing her abdomen with soothing strokes. It was growing larger every day. The rhythmic movements seemed to calm her and the kicking baby inside her womb. She lowered her head, praying for Grace, and waited for her husband to return.

  “Have a seat,” the sheriff said, indicating the chairs in front of his desk. Robert and Frank sat down. The building they were in housed the small jailhouse and sheriff’s office. A portrait of Andrew Johnson hung behind the desk. Down the tiny hallway to the back was where the prisoners were kept, but Robert didn’t hear a sound coming from Warren’s cell. Which was a good thing, or he might be tempted to take care of him—for good. Heaven help me. He struggled to hold his temper in.

  “John, I can’t believe what’s happened tonight, and if what Robert told me on the way over here is true about Warren confiscating Eli’s supplies, then I’m shocked,” Frank sputtered in anger. “I felt he was up to something else besides working for me, but I couldn’t imagine this!”

  Sheriff Mendenhall harrumphed. “You mean there’s more to the story?” He glanced over at Robert.

  “Yep, but it’s actually another story. Grace told me she caught Warren tonight exchanging what she thought might be money for a wagonload of goods. That’s when Warren got furious. I don’t know who he might have sold them to, but Tom mentioned seeing the same sort of thing a while back.”

  “Why do you think the goods are stolen?” the sheriff asked.

  “Because Eli has been missing deliveries for a while now, and he thinks his name has been forged on the receipts.”

  “It bears checking out. Is it okay if I go speak with Tom?”

  “Sure. I think he’ll corroborate Grace’s story.”

  “Could be Warren was selling supplies to the Blackfeet or the miners in Alder Gulch—he could make a big profit,” Frank inserted. “I wanted you to know, John, that I fired him this morning. He was always gone hours from the office and alluded to the day he’d be wealthy, but I thought he meant with his own law practice. Little did I know . . . I thought I’d checked his references well enough.” Frank sighed.

  The sheriff had been taking notes, then looked up. “Thank you both for coming to tell me this. You can rest assured that I’ll get to the bottom of it. He’ll be transported to Virginia City where he’ll face trial, so he won’t be back. That’s almost certain.”

  “I need to get back to Ginny, who I’m sure is worried,” Frank said. “Thanks, John, for the good teamwork with Robert.”

  Sheriff Mendenhall stood, shook their hands, and walked them to the door. “I’ll lock up here, then walk over to talk to Tom to verify his story. He’s not in bed, is he?”

  Robert laughed. “I doubt it. I’ll see you over there. I need to get a bite to eat, if there are any leftovers, and I’m sure Stella wouldn’t mind feeding you too, John.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”

  36

  Grace woke to a throbbing headache and realized she’d slept late. As she swung her legs out of the bed, dizziness overcame her for a moment.

  “Morning, sleeping beauty,” Ginny greeted her.

  “Ginny, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Grace slipped on her robe. “Why did you let me sleep late? I have to fix breakfast for Pop.”

  “That’s all been taken care of. Robert and the girls are taking care of things. Eli gave Robert Saturday afternoon off. How’s your head feel?”

  “Like I was clobbered with my garden hoe. It was so horrible, Ginny.”

  Ginny came to sit on the edge of the bed and slipped an arm about her shoulders. “I know, and I’m sorry this happened. I feel partly responsible since I more or less pushed Warren on you.”

  Grace looked at her. “Please, don’t blame yourself. Warren became a different person . . . or he was hiding his true nature the first time we met.”

  Ginny looked her square in the eye. “Did he—”

  Grace shook her head. “No, he didn’t, but he tried. If it wasn’t for Robert’s intervention, I’m certain he would’ve.” She tried to shut out the image of his body looming over her with his hand over her mouth. “I’m sure God saved me from a worse fate.”

  Ginny squeezed her hand again. “Then we have much to thank the good Lord for. Now, let’s get you something to drink and eat. It’ll help your headache, I’m sure. Do you feel like going downstairs, or shall I have Becky bring you something?”

  “I’d rather go downstairs, if you don’t think I look too ghastly.”

  “No. You have a cut on your cheek, but let me comb your hair. I think I can hide that large knot on your forehead. It might upset them to see that. Oh, I nearly forgot. I’ve brought you another duck so Bluebelle will have a companion.” She picked up the brush as she talked. “I ordered it almost two months ago.”

  “You did?” Grace clapped her hands together. “I can’t begin to thank you enough. Bluebelle has been a lot of company for me and follows me everywhere. Sarah will be happy, I know.”

  Ginny laughed. “I’ve already introduced them. So now you’ll have to come up with a duck name for him. They could have little ducklings.”

  Grace laughed. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

  Once she was downstairs, the girls fussed over her, bringing her toast and coffee. Grace felt cherished, and soon her headache was better. “You’re all too sweet to me, but I have to say it’s nice to get a little attention for a change,” she said, smiling at all those gathered in the kitchen.

  “Ha! Are you saying I never give you attention?” Owen grumbled.

  They all laughed good-naturedly. Robert winked at her and Grace smiled back.

  “Did Miss Ginny tell you that she brought you another duck? He’s beautiful,” Sarah said.

  “She did.” Grace smiled at her. “Isn’t she the sweetest friend?” Sarah nodded.

  “What should we name him?”

  “I think we should call him Paddy,” Sarah offered.

  Grace thought a moment. “You know, I like that. Paddy it is.”

  “I think I’ll take my leave now. It looks like you’re in good hands, Grace.” Ginny rose to leave.

  A knock at the door interrupted their goodbyes. “I’ll go see who it is,” Ginny offered.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” Grace said, feeling steady now. “I’m so glad that you came in spite of your condition.” She smiled down at Ginny’s midsection.

  “That’s what friends do. You would do no less, I’m sure.” Ginny opened the door.

  “Is there a Robert Frasier here?” a well-dressed woman in a tweed traveling suit inquired.

  Grace was embarrassed to be standing in her robe looking like she’d been in a fight. The woman’s eyes traveled down Grace’s full length and back up to stare at her. She looked to be about her age with clear blue eyes that were oddly cold.

  “Well, yes, he is. And you are?” Grace inquired.

  The woman straightened her shoulders and with a drawn mouth answered, “I’m Mildred Nelson, the children’s aunt, and I’ve come to take the children home with me.”

  Grace was stunned, and she heard Ginny’s sharp intake of breath next to her. “I beg your pardon? I’m Grace Bidwell.” She held her hand out but the lady didn’t reciprocate.

  The woman dismissed her with a wave of her glove. “Really, it’s none of your affair. Could you tell him I’m here?”


  Ginny looked at her narrow-eyed, indicating she could stay, but Grace shook her head. “I’ll talk with you later, Grace. Goodbye.” Ginny marched past the woman to her carriage parked in the yard and quickly left.

  “Please come in. I’ll show you to the parlor and go find him.”

  “He is up, isn’t he?”

  “Why do you say that?” Grace thought the woman was being presumptuous.

  “Well, I see you’re still in your dressing gown this time of the day.” She frowned.

  Grace felt her face flame. “I assure you, it’s not what you think. If you’ll have a seat, please.”

  “I’d rather stand.”

  “Suit yourself.” Grace scurried out of the room and back to the kitchen. Everyone stopped chattering when she walked in, nearly out of breath from her nerves. “Robert, your sister-in-law is here to see you.”

  Robert stared back at her with an incredulous look. “What do you mean my sister-in-law?”

  “I think you better go see for yourself,” Grace replied.

  Owen, Tom, and the girls sat with blank expressions on their faces, not making a sound. Grace led Robert to the parlor where Mildred stood ramrod straight.

  “I’ll leave you two so you can talk privately,” Grace said.

  ———

  “Robert, I’m sure you remember me—Ada’s sister Mildred.”

  Robert gave her a slight nod. While his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her resemblance to Ada, this was not the Mildred he’d briefly met when she’d dragged the children through his front door. This woman was very well-dressed and her hair was perfectly coiffed. “How could I forget?” he said sarcastically. “Are you here to see Ada’s children?”

  Tilting her head toward him, she gave him a strange look. “No. I’m here to take them back home with me now.”

  Robert let out a resounding laugh. “You must be kidding. You were the one who couldn’t wait until I took them off your hands because you couldn’t feed another three people. Now suddenly you’ve changed your mind?”