Mountains of Grace

by Kelly Irvin

  The frown disappeared. Her lips twitched. “No, I hitched a ride.”

  His horror must’ve shown on his face. She laughed. Her laugh made him laugh. The mom pushing a double stroller and arguing with her son over the toy she refused to buy him must’ve thought they were two goofs. Mercy laughed so hard tears teetered in her eyes.

  Apparently she’d decided to ignore whatever was worrying her. As soft as Mercy appeared, she had a nice backbone of steel.

  “Did you catch a ride on an eighteen-wheeler?”

  “No. With Juliette.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Searching through the big bargain barrel of five-dollar movies for something the whole family can watch.” Mercy seemed perplexed at the idea. “It seems like a hard choice. She’s been there for a while. She said she would come find me after she finishes her list. She has her own basket.”

  Her face flushed. She stopped. “Sorry. I don’t usually babble so much.”

  “It’s okay. I like to listen to your voice. You have a different way of talking. All you Plain folks do, but especially you.”

  “Because English isn’t our first language?”

  Maybe. Mostly he liked the softness of her voice. It matched her fresh face and simple dress.

  She edged toward the aisle. “I should find Juliette.”

  How could he make this chance meeting last a little longer? After the fire and being squashed into Angie’s tiny home with two women and three children, it seemed like a gift. Plus, he needed to find out what was bugging her. “Can I buy you a sub sandwich?”

  Her expression wary, she chewed her lip. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I’m nice and you’re nice.”

  She didn’t seem convinced. “We can be nice together?”

  “Are you scared of me or something?”

  “I’m not scared of anything.” Despite the bravado in her words, Mercy’s wariness deepened.

  “Are you afraid of someone else?”

  “I only want to do the right thing.”

  “Did someone tell you that talking to me was wrong?”

  “Something like that.”

  “All English men or just me?”

  “We can’t be . . .” The flush spread across her cheeks and neck. “We shouldn’t be alone.”

  “We’re not. We’re in the middle of Walmart. The busiest store in Kalispell.”

  “I am hungry.” She chewed her lip some more. “But I’ll buy my own sandwich.”

  “Fine. I’ll lead the way.”

  Spencer texted Angie his whereabouts. She asked for a ham and swiss cheese on a multigrain bun with all the fixings. He led the way to the sub sandwich shop at the front of the store.

  Her last text read: Enjoy your date.

  It wasn’t a date. A guy could be friends with a girl. Pretty Patty had taught him that. No matter what happened, he was definitely paying. A gentleman always paid. He might not be a gentleman, but he knew how to treat a lady.

  Mercy was definitely a lady. Juliette said he should leave her alone, but somehow he couldn’t. He felt as if he missed her and he hardly knew her. Which made no sense.

  She always appeared to be about to flee. Like a prisoner in a cell. She simply needed someone to turn the key and open the door.

  Maybe Spencer was that someone.

  * * *

  Mercy’s heart did belly flops. It’s only a sandwich. A long line of customers waited at the sub sandwich shop. Spencer parked his cart in the wide aisle outside the shop and pulled his crutches from it. She parked next to him and followed him to the line. So much for a quick in and out. Why hadn’t she said no?

  God only knew. You do know, don’t You, Gott?

  What were the chances of their meeting in a Walmart in another city? Coincidences didn’t happen. If some reason existed for this chance meeting, what was it? A test to see if she would stay true to her promise? She’d promised not to take any more walks with Spencer.

  Splitting hairs. She’d agreed not to talk to him.

  Yet here she stood.

  She wanted to talk to Spencer. Her mother would say he was the green grass on the other side of the fence.

  She might be right.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  Spencer stared at her with a strange expression, the same odd look he’d had when their gazes met over stacks of boys’ underwear.

  “No. My tongue is fine.”

  “Are you regretting saying yes?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What did they say about me? Am I a bad influence?”

  “They saw you coming out of a tavern with Juliette the night we went for a walk.”

  An entire week had passed since that night. She hadn’t seen him again. Caleb, she’d seen once.

  “I was helping out a friend in need.”

  “I told them you hadn’t been drinking.” She hesitated, longing for a facility with English words. To be able to wield language the way her favorite authors did. “It’s not you specifically. I’m a young, single Plain woman. I shouldn’t be gallivanting about after dark with an Englisch man.”

  “I don’t understand why it makes a difference, English or Plain.”

  “Our rules are intended to keep us apart from a fallen world. So we don’t fall into the sinful ways of the world.”

  Spencer’s eyes narrowed. His jaw worked. Had she made him mad? “I’m sorry—”

  He shushed her. “I’m thinking. I don’t do that very often and it hurts.” His forehead and nose wrinkled and his mouth opened. A person might think he had a terrible toothache. She giggled. He smiled. That knock-your-kapp-off smile.

  “Many years ago my sister used to drag me to Sunday school once upon a blue moon. She blabbered on about stuff. I think a few things stuck.” He leaned against his crutches and moved up a few inches as the line shrank. “I’m pretty sure the basic premise is that everyone in this fallen world is sinful. Everyone falls short. How can you guys set yourselves off like your sin doesn’t make you stink too?”

  “Oh, we stink.” She shook her head and giggled again. “It’s not that. But we try a lot harder to avoid sin than the rest of the world seems to be trying. We have a set of rules to help us.”

  “And right now, you’re breaking one of those rules?”

  “I am.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m not sure.” Which scared her to no end. “Because you asked nicely and because I keep thinking about how our house burned down and everything is gone. We’ve tried so hard to follow Gott’s Word and bend to His will. Is it His will for us to lose everything?”

  “Do you believe God is good?” His sapphire eyes were filled with piercing light. He really wanted to know.

  Mercy searched for the right words. All those years of being sure, gone in billowing flame and smoke. “I do. I think I do. I did.”

  “Not the same thing.” He hopped forward again. “I believe it’s important to knock around in this world, to see what’s out there. To test the limits. That’s how you know you’re alive. I figure the fire is another way of testing your faith.”

  “Gott doesn’t make bad things happen. I just wonder why He doesn’t stop them. He can. He can do anything. We believe He has a plan for us. What kind of plan is this?”

  “I’m right there with you.” Spencer stared at the chopped vegetables and toppings as if the answers they sought might be found between the pickles and the tomatoes. “What kind of plan makes my mom an alcoholic and my dad a loser who leaves his kids with a drunk?”

  Hard questions. She had no answers.

  He ordered two sandwiches and then pointed at Mercy. “Put hers on my bill.”

  “No, no, I can get my own.”

  The cashier shrugged and kept making sandwiches. When the bill went to Spencer, it had all three sandwiches, three bags of chips, and three sodas on it.

  “That wasn’t the deal.”

  “It wasn’t the plan?” He grinned and cocked his head
toward the only empty booth. “Can you bring the food? Maybe it was God’s plan. Did you ever think of that?”

  Mercy glanced around. Not a familiar soul in sight, but that didn’t mean anything. God saw and God knew. Maybe she could plead temporary insanity or a brain tumor or a sudden fever that turned her into a raving lunatic long enough to have a sandwich with a nice man who made her laugh.

  She grabbed the tray and headed to the booth where she eased it to the table and plopped down across from Spencer. At least they were away from the swarm of people out in the store. Surely no one would see them here.

  “There you are.” Angie barreled toward them. Juliette stalked through the high round tables behind her. “Look who I found searching all over for you, Mercy.”

  Juliette’s eyebrows were on permanent high alert. She shot Mercy a grim frown. “I figured you were getting a sandwich to go.”

  “Are you in a hurry?” The seventy-minute drive from Eureka to Kalispell had been the quietest time Mercy had ever spent with Juliette. The other woman, normally bouncing off the ceiling and singing at the top of her lungs, mumbled responses to questions or didn’t respond at all. “I can get a bag for this. Do you want a sandwich? I’ll get you one.”

  Juliette shook her head and scooted onto the seat next to Mercy while Angie did the same on Spencer’s side of the table. “Just eat. Do you have everything on your list?”

  “I still need a couple of things for the girls. Aren’t you going to say hi to Spencer?”

  Juliette’s scowl answered that question.

  “Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed.” Spencer pushed his soda toward her. “Have a drink. Maybe you need some caffeine. I don’t have cooties, I promise.”

  Without a word Juliette pushed it back. Instead, she plucked barbecue chips from Mercy’s bag and began breaking them into smaller pieces.

  “We need to get back.” Angie took a bite of her ham and cheese sandwich, chewed, and swallowed. “I have to work a shift tonight.”

  “I don’t like you working at a convenience store.” Spencer growled deep in his throat. He sounded like the mountain lion that had been peeking at them from the trees when they hiked on their favorite Cabinet Mountain trails. “I really wish you would quit.”

  “Are you planning to pay my utility bills and my tuition?” Her tone tart, she took another big bite of sandwich and sighed.

  “I have some savings—”

  “No way.” She spoke through a mouthful of bread. She shook her finger at him and covered her mouth with her other hand. “Nope.”

  He had a generous nature.

  So did Caleb.

  The thought struck her with the sting of the sapling branches Father used to spank her and the others in the woodshed when their transgressions warranted it. With Mercy such forays to the shed were rarely necessary. And all the more ingrained in her brain.

  Her appetite gone, she swept the other half of her sandwich into its wrap and handed it to Juliette. “Could you carry this? I’ll bring the soda and chips. We can share.”

  Juliette didn’t argue. Spencer wanted to, if his frown was any indication, but he didn’t.

  “Thank you for the sandwich.” She didn’t try to explain her abrupt departure. “Have a safe trip home.”

  “It’s just up the road.” He tilted his head. The hurting face had returned. Thinking really did pain him. “It was really nice seeing you again.”

  Angie popped up and slid into the spot Mercy and Juliette had vacated. “Come by the church. We have a ton of canned goods, bottled water, and clothes people have donated. If you need anything at all, come see us. That’s what we’re there for.”

  She paused. She had that hurting head look too. It must run in the family. “We’d love to see you at church tomorrow. I know you have your own services, but since you’re spread out all over the place, you’re welcome to worship with us.”

  “Thank you.” Mercy could only imagine the reaction her parents would have to such a suggestion. “It’s nice of you. It’s our week off, so mostly folks will visit with each other.”

  As she walked away Mercy could feel Spencer’s gaze burrowing into her back. The urge to turn around and stare sat on her shoulders and whispered in her ears. She brushed it away. Keep walking, girl, keep walking.

  Fifteen minutes later they were in Juliette’s truck headed for Highway 93. Juliette still hadn’t said a word.

  “Are you mad at me about something?” Mercy turned off the radio and scooched around in her seat belt to get a better read on her friend. “You’ve been crankier than a baby with colic.”

  Juliette grabbed the Sprite and took a long draw on the straw. Her natural buoyance had been depleted by some unseen pinprick. Her eyes were red rimmed and her nose was running.

  “What is wrong? Are you sick? Please talk to me, Juliette.”

  “I’m not mad at you. I’m not sick.” Her voice cracked. “Not everything is about you.”

  Mercy sank against the seat and stared straight ahead. Never were truer words spoken. Did she appear that self-absorbed and full of herself to others? “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. That’s what I’m telling you.”

  “Then what is this about?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Is it Tim?”

  “No. It’s me.”

  Juliette always drove fast, but today it felt as if the truck flew down the road. Air zoomed past the windows. The AC made Mercy shiver, but so did the speed. “Could you slow down a little?”

  “Sure.”

  But she didn’t. Finding words to help was difficult, not knowing the problem. The remainder of the ride passed in silence. They pulled up in front of Grandma Knowles’s house in record time.

  Juliette put the truck in park and turned off the engine. She didn’t speak.

  “I’m worried about you.” Mercy spoke into the silence because it scared her more than the sin of worry. “Please let me help you.”

  “You can’t, but it’s nice to know you want to.” Her hands still on the wheel, Juliette laid her head against it. The seconds ticked by. A muffled sigh followed. She raised her head. “I’ll be fine. But you can do me one favor.”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “Stay away from Spencer.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s wrong for you. And you’re wrong for him. You’re both seeking something and you won’t find it in each other.” She looked at Mercy for the first time. “I don’t know much, but I know that.”

  “It’s not like that. We’re just two people trying to figure things out. We’re bouncing ideas off each other. That’s it.”

  “That’s how it starts. You can’t trust a man like Spencer. He means well, but he’s messed up—too messed up to help himself. I’ve been out there.” Juliette leaned across the seat and grabbed Mercy’s hand. “I thought I wanted to be out there, but I found out everything I need is here. Don’t give me another thing to worry about, okay? I’ve got enough stuff on my plate.” She squeezed Mercy’s hand and let go.

  Mercy pushed her door open and slid out. The last person she expected to give her such advice would be Juliette.

  Which made it all the more powerful.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. Do you need help getting your bags in?”

  “I’m good.”

  “You are. Stay that way, please.”

  Mercy removed her bags and set them on the sidewalk. Juliette drove away.

  Juliette’s words reverberated in the late-afternoon air.

  Stay that way.

  36

  Eureka, Montana

  Now or never. Pastor Matt’s words pulsing inside her head, Juliette pushed through the back door of her aunt Tina’s house, kicked off her flip-flops, and dumped the sack of groceries on the granite-top island in the middle of the kitchen. The rope that kept Juliette from reaching out slid away. The massive knot
dissolved. She could breathe again.

  Serving spoon in hand, her mother turned from the stove and smiled. “Oh, good, you’re here. Your dad just brought in the burgers from the grill. I’ve got tots in the oven and Courtney made a big salad.”

  Get help. Get help. You need help. Accept help. “I need help.”

  “Sure. I’ll send Courtney to get the rest of the bags. She’s around here somewhere.”

  “No, Mom, I mean I need help.” She swallowed back tears that had threatened in every aisle of Walmart. At one point she’d ducked into the bathroom to get her act together. Ridiculous. “Professional help.”

  The spoon hit the counter. Mom tossed aside her apron and trotted around the island. Her tight hug allowed Juliette to bury her head on her mother’s shoulder and close her eyes tightly. Still the images came unbidden and unwanted.

  Her stomach rocked. She raced to the kitchen sink and heaved. Bitter acid burned her mouth. It tasted like fear and regret and anger and disgust and decimated innocence.

  Mom’s hands rubbed her back in a comforting swirl. “Please, God, take away my Jules’s pain. Make her whole again. Heal her. Take her right hand and walk with her through this valley. Lord, I pray, take away the ability of those memories to hurt her. Let her see them in her mind’s eye and then discard them, knowing they can no longer hurt her. Bless her and keep her safe.”

  Peace. It sounded so good and so distant. What would it feel like not to have this push-and-pull in her gut all day and all night?

  Wiping at her face, she tugged away from her mom just in time to see Dad standing in the doorway. Tears rolled down his craggy face. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Daddy, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, but you will be.” She met him halfway and he enveloped her in a hug that nearly broke her ribs. “I know someone in Kalispell who specializes in this kind of stuff. She’s waiting for your call when you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready.”