Saving Grace: A Novel (Healing Ruby Book 3)

by Jennifer H. Westall

Surely I was just being paranoid. After years of secrets, it seemed to come with the territory. Still, I was ready to escape the conversation. “How about that dance?” I said to Joseph.

  His eyebrows shot up, and his deep brown eyes lit up. “Really? I thought you said—”

  “I changed my mind.”

  He jumped up and took my hand, leading me out onto the balcony where the music wasn’t so loud. He pulled me around in front of him, sliding his arm around my waist and smiling down at me. Despite myself, I had to admit he was quite handsome. He swayed me gently as the music flowed around us, and I became acutely conscious of how close we were. I hadn’t felt that way since…

  An image of Matthew looking down into my eyes, leaning in to kiss me, sent a stab of pain through my chest. Where was he right at that moment? Was he dancing with someone too? Had he forgotten me after nearly five years? I should’ve hoped for his happiness, but a tiny part of my heart still clung to him. I wondered if it always would.

  Joseph squeezed my hand as we turned toward the view of the bay. “You all right? You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. Is there something on your mind?”

  Part of me wanted to confide in him. He’d been such a good friend the past year. Joseph was the son of a wealthy U.S. businessman and a poor Filipino girl. He’d been raised in the States by his father, given up by his mother for a chance at a better life, and had returned to his native country at the age of twenty-eight to find her. When they were at last reunited, she’d been in poor health, so he’d decided to stay and care for her, along with others trapped in the slums of Manila. I’d heard about his efforts to provide the poor Filipinos with medical care at the church he and I attended, and when I’d asked if I could help, he’d looked at me like I was crazy.

  “You want to help care for poor patients in the worst part of the city who most likely can’t pay?” he’d said. “You could make a lot more money in the newer sections of Manila.”

  “I don’t need the money,” I’d answered.

  Joseph had waited for further explanation, but I’d learned to reveal as little as possible about myself. Eventually he’d agreed to let me work as a nurse, and we’d butted heads amiably ever since. But he never pushed to know more about my past, as if he sensed that it was a place I couldn’t go. As I danced with him on the balcony, I realized I felt more comfortable than I had since going on the run.

  I smiled up at him in return, hoping to ease his concern. “I’m good. Just a little tired.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help you enjoy yourself? You seem distracted tonight.”

  Again I was reminded of why I didn’t put myself in these positions. I’d once believed with all my heart in telling the truth, a lesson I’d learned in my early teens. I was a terrible liar, and I truly believed it dishonored the gift God had given me. But ever since the trial—in fact, ever since I took the blame for Chester’s death—it seemed like my life was wrapped up in one lie after another.

  And like my uncle Asa before me, I’d lost that precious gift somehow.

  I didn’t want to lie to Joseph, but there was no truthful answer I could give. So I shrugged and tried to smile. “I was just thinking about all the work that needs to be done at the clinic tomorrow. The kitchen needs a thorough cleaning, and I need to go through the sulfa supply—”

  “Stop worrying over the clinic,” Joseph said, frowning. “And the patients, and their sisters and parents and grandmothers, for crying out loud. You work like you’re paying penance or something.”

  My cheeks warmed. Was I that obvious? “I don’t believe in penance,” I said as blithely as I could. I even managed a smile.

  “Could’ve fooled me, Sister Grace.” He grinned down at me for a long moment. Then, stopping our momentum, he grew serious. “God loves you just as you are. You don’t have to earn it.”

  “I know. I just want my life to mean something…to make a difference. I need to help. It’s the only time when things make sense.”

  He leaned toward me, sending a wave of fear through me that he might kiss me. But Henry swept past and spun me away. My breath caught as I righted myself without falling on my rear end. “Henry!”

  He laughed and called over to Joseph, “I’ll bring her right back!”

  Henry continued to whirl us away from the small crowd until we could speak privately. “What gives, Rubes? You look miserable tonight. Doc giving you a hard time?”

  “No, just…I guess my mind keeps wandering.”

  He frowned. “No mystery where it’s going.”

  “Have you…heard from him?”

  “Look, I know it hasn’t been easy to leave everything behind, but look around at where we are. Would you have ever imagined us, you and me, off on such an adventure? This place is right out of a magazine! I got houseboys shining my shoes, lavanderas washing my clothes, and a pocketful of money every month to treat my ladies to some fine times, even after I fork over a third of it to you. Every day is like a dream here. You just gotta let yourself enjoy it.”

  He spun me around again, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Some things never change.”

  “Look, if I can arrange for Mike to take us up in his plane again, will you forget this nonsense about working yourself to death, and come with us tomorrow? We have some great fun planned before I head back to Clark.”

  I rolled my eyes, aware of exactly what he was doing. “You know me too well.”

  “Come on,” he insisted. “I bet if you flirt with Mike a little, he’ll let you fly it yourself for a while.”

  “Oh, all right,” I said, unable to pass up the chance to fly. “But I’m not flirting with that ape you call a friend.”

  November 22, 1941

  The next afternoon I stood off to the side, waiting for Mike to complete the check of his Stearman biplane at Nichols field, just south of Manila. He’d somehow saved enough money during his year and a half in the Philippines to buy it from a retiring doctor who’d used it to fly to patients in more remote locations on the island. The plane was Mike’s pride and joy, and he kept it in mint condition.

  I avoided making eye contact with him as he went through a detailed inspection. Mike had been out for my attention all morning on the golf course, and I’d about kicked Henry in the rear for bringing him along. But I supposed it was the friendly thing to do if I wanted him to take me up flying.

  Mike Sawyer had been friends with Henry since before we left the States, so I was used to his open flirtations with me. They’d played baseball together in the minor leagues back before they both decided to take to the air. Only difference was that Henry was determined to be a fighter pilot, while Mike wanted to do battle with the sea as well as the enemy. On most days, Mike was manning his seaplane for the Navy, a large PBY that looked to me like it might snap in half in a strong wind. On top of that, it didn’t coast along a runway, but across the top of the water. I got seasick just thinking about it. I wouldn’t go up in that thing if it were the last plane on earth.

  It was Mike who’d first written to Henry describing the paradise atmosphere in the Philippines, and Henry had figured it was the perfect place for us. He’d said it was so far away from our troubles that we might just be able to live there forever. And I had to admit it did my mind good to distance myself from all those terrible events. So I had that to be grateful to Mike for, but there was no way I’d ever let him in on my secret.

  “Well, that should do it,” Mike announced as he came along beside me. A bead of sweat trickled out of his dark hair and ran down the side of his cheek. “I reckon she’s ready.”

  Henry clapped his hands together. “All right, then. Get this baby in the air! And this time, Grace, maybe you can manage to complete a turn without dumping Mike out of the plane.”

  I snapped my head around to glare at Henry. “I didn’t dump him out of the plane!”

  Mike laughed and put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I ’bout did fall out, I swear!”

  I crossed my arms over my c
hest and waited for the two of them to stop laughing. I knew I was having trouble making turns, but they didn’t have to make such a fuss over it.

  “Come on,” Mike said, strolling over to help me climb into the front seat.

  I secured my goggles and safety straps. Henry jumped up on the wing and grinned at me over the side of the cockpit. “Don’t be nervous, Rubes,” he said quietly. “I seen you conquer things much scarier than this before. You can do it.”

  I thanked him with a smile. Then he jumped down and called out to Mike, “You ain’t gonna let her take off or land, are ya?”

  “I don’t feel like dying today!” Mike shouted back from behind me.

  “I can do it!” I shouted back. “You two just watch. I’ll show you.”

  Mike’s chuckling voice came through my headset. “Don’t worry, Grace. We’re just teasing. You’re doing a fine job. Henry’s right proud of ya.”

  I wasn’t quite ready to let go of my pride and admit it, but I was afraid they were right. Still, I’d dreamed of flying for as long as I could remember, and I was determined to get the hang of it. Flying was the closest I came to being truly free.

  We coasted over to the runway, pausing to check the signals. Mike switched into teacher mode, going through the steps of taking off with me again. I nodded along as I mentally pictured each step he was taking behind me.

  “You want to try it on your own today?” he asked.

  “Yes!” I said, with a little too much enthusiasm. “If you think I’m ready.” I wasn’t so sure I was ready, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “Only one way to find out.”

  I said a quick prayer in my head, opened up the throttle, and held onto the stick as the plane began to coast down the runway. Wind whipped and whooshed around me, and as the plane tilted up, my stomach dropped. Within seconds we were up, gliding toward a brilliant blue sky. Mike whooped and hollered into my headset. I relaxed my death grip on the stick, and let the joy of the moment sink in.

  “All right, level her off some,” Mike said as we reached ten thousand feet.

  I pushed the stick forward a bit until the horizon spread out before me. “Where are we heading today?”

  “Just keep her level for now. We’ll try a right turn once we get clear of Cavite.”

  I trimmed the plane so it would essentially fly itself, while I took in the glory of the day. With the bay to my right, and the luscious, green mountains beyond, I imagined soaring off into the clouds that rested around the tops. Up here, away from my daily struggle to atone for my sins, I could let go and simply be with God. I imagined Him just above me, His invisible hand resting beneath the plane, and began to feel at peace.

  “Great job keeping the attitude of the wings straight. You ready to try that turn?” Mike broke through my thoughts.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Let’s talk our way through this, okay? Let’s give some pressure on the right pedal as we push the stick right. That’s it.”

  I pushed the pedal and the stick, but as usual, I struggled to grasp a feel for just how much rudder I needed. The left wing tilted up, and for a split second, the plane moved left. Then it banked right, and headed into the turn.

  “Good girl,” Mike said. “Come off the aileron and start to level her off.”

  I pushed the stick back to the left, dropping the left wing. But as usual it was too much, and I overcorrected, swinging the right wing up. As I tried to level each swing, I seemed only to continue its momentum.

  “Come on, Grace” Mike said. “Loosen up. You’re holding on too tight and trying too hard to be perfect. Ease her into the turn, and ease her out of it.”

  I let out a deep sigh as I felt the pressure on my hands of Mike taking control of the plane from behind me. I let go and the plane leveled off. “I should be able to do this by now!”

  “You’ll get it. Like I said, just relax. You have to let yourself feel the plane beneath you. Become part of the plane. Don’t fight against it.”

  “That sounds all well and good, but I can’t seem to get this plane to see eye-to-eye with me.”

  He chuckled and turned us away from the water, heading north along the coast and back toward Nichols Field. “Let’s give it another try.”

  I gritted my teeth and took hold of the stick, determined to make a smooth turn. “All right, I’m ready.”

  “She’s all yours.”

  I slowly pressed the stick to the right, and the left wing rose up. The plane dipped left again, and I let out a frustrated moan.

  Matthew

  After getting settled into the house Friday evening, I somehow let Doug and Cam talk me into going back to Manila with them on Saturday to store some of their extra belongings. At least, that was the story they used to get me to go along. I knew what they were really after, especially once they made it clear we wouldn’t be returning until the following day. Jim Harris had a car, so he volunteered to drive us, and before I knew it, I was crammed into a ’38 Chrysler convertible along with Doug, Cam, Jim, and Gene.

  It was a nice day, with a rich, blue sky set off by the vibrant colors of the tropics. I didn’t mind the drive so much since it gave me a better look at my surroundings than I’d gotten from the truck coming in. We sped through the run-down section of town, with Jim honking the horn at the slow-moving carts in the road. Once we crossed over the Pasig, the streets were jammed with taxis and carriages, so Jim was forced to slow down.

  We checked in at the Manila Hotel, grabbed a bite to eat, and found a storage facility for the few items Doug and Cam had crammed into the trunk. It was pretty pitiful. Hardly worth the money for the storage room, but they insisted it was necessary. So I went along with the facade.

  After a tour of the various entertainment spots available, the guys settled on the Jai Alai club for the evening’s amusement. I wasn’t too keen on a rowdy evening, but I had to admit the native sport played at the club interested me. So I decided to do my best to enjoy the outing.

  When we left the hotel that night, Manila had transformed into a hub of electricity. Music poured out of various clubs and restaurants. Soldiers and sailors lined the streets, exotic women on their arms, as they moved from one spot to the next. We turned onto Taft Avenue, lined with its beautiful acacia trees, and I could see the lights of the club as we approached. It was the most striking building I’d seen yet.

  The four-story cylinder-shaped entrance, lined with glass, reflected the lights of the city, making it sparkle in the night sky. Patrons lined the street to get in, already having a good time as they waited. We found a parking spot and eventually made our way inside, which was just as impressive as the outside. A large arena housed the jai alai courts, a game featuring two white-suited players whipping a ball against the wall with a curved scoop attached to the arm.

  I followed Jim and Gene, who obviously knew exactly where they were headed, upstairs to a balcony with tables already filled with groups of partiers. Jim leaned over and spoke into the ear of a Filipino boy in a white jacket, slipped a few bills into his hand, and turned back to our group as the boy took off.

  “It’ll just be a minute,” Jim yelled over the noise. “You fellas in a betting mood tonight?”

  I most definitely was not, but it was clear I was in the minority. As I watched, dozens of Filipino boys in the same white jackets flitted between the tables and the betting windows. The noise of the game, the fans cheering, and people laughing surrounded me, but all I could hear was Ruby’s voice as she’d smiled at me one afternoon, nearly ten years before, as I’d held a basketball in my lap. In my mind, all I saw was her shining face against the deep blue Alabama sky.

  “Want to place a bet that I can make it?” I’d said.

  “I don’t gamble.”

  “Too much sin for ya?”

  “Nothing to wager.”

  Would I ever make it through even one day without missing her? I had to get a grip. Had to find a way to move on. Just then, the boy returned and gestured
toward a table near the front of the balcony. When the other guys moved in that direction, I noticed the group at the next table over, and a familiar face came into view. Henry threw his head back and laughed. His arm was wrapped around a young woman, and she gazed up at him as if he was recounting a captivating tale.

  I froze where I stood, conflicted on the course to take. I could go over and speak to Henry, but would it dampen both our evenings? Or worse, would I see how easily he’d forgotten his own sister, who had adored him like the sun? I couldn’t stand the thought of watching Henry enjoy himself so freely, as if the world hadn’t become a completely different place as it had for me.

  Instead, I grabbed Doug’s arm and nodded toward the bar behind me. “I’ll join you in a little while, all right?”

  Doug’s eyes narrowed. “Come on, man. Don’t be a Fuddy-Duddy. I know this isn’t your kind of place, but loosen up and have some fun for once.”

  “I’m not a Fuddy-Duddy. I just need a little space. That’s all.”

  He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you say, man.”

  As Doug walked away, I turned and headed over to the bar, grabbing a seat near the end. The bartender made his way over, and I ordered a beer. I’d never been one to drink much, but I could use a little help shutting out the past. So I downed the entire bottle as soon as it arrived and ordered another. The alcohol went to work quickly. And within a few minutes, another distraction offered itself up in the way of gorgeous, big brown eyes smiling at me from the other side of the bar.

  I smiled back. She leaned over to the woman seated next to her, mouthing something near her ear. Then she stood and weaved her way through the crowd, around the edge of the bar, until she was standing just behind me. A sweet, rosy smell settled around me as she called out to the bartender.

  “Jones! Can I get a gin and tonic over here?”

  She squeezed between me and the guy next to me, reaching her slender arm across the bar to retrieve the glass. Her smile held my attention, keeping my eyes from wandering to ungentlemanly places. “Hi there,” she said with a southern twang that reminded me of home.