Saving Grace

by Carolyn Davidson

“I’ve never…” She looked up at him and then ducked her head. “I can’t admit to any such experiences as you’ve had, Simon.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked you for that information, Grace. That you offered it to me is a gift I appreciate more than you know. But there are things you need to know, sweetheart.”

  “Can’t you tell me whatever that is?” she asked, as if unable to understand what there was that he didn’t want to discuss with her.

  His embrace was sudden, drawing her closer against himself, and Grace pressed her lips together lest she cry out and cause Ethel to awaken. With his mouth next to her ear, Simon whispered soft words that eased her mind.

  “I’ll tell you, but not now, not tonight. On our wedding night. We’ll learn everything together, my love. For nothing I’ve ever experienced will come close to the joy I expect to find with you.”

  Her sigh was deep and she felt a thrill pass through her body unlike any she’d ever experienced in her life. “Simon, you make me feel happy, so…wanted, I suppose is the word.”

  “I do want you, sweetheart, more than you have any way of knowing. And one day, I hope you’ll be able to tell me that you feel more than a liking for me, that your emotions will run to the depths of the promises we’ll make to each other.”

  “The ones in the marriage service?” she asked

  “All of those. The ones relating to honoring and cherishing your husband, for I can’t ask you to obey me. I know that is the form of service most ministers use, but I’d rather know that you cherish what we share, than to have you sworn to obey me.”

  She clasped his neck, her face pressed into the front of his shirt. “I hope I don’t disappoint you. I fear I’ll find it difficult to…” She paused as if the words could not be spoken that would tell him of her fears. And then she whispered words that made him smile. “I can hear your heart beating, Simon. It’s not very regular, is it?” she asked, her tone teasing.

  “Not right now, sweetheart. But know that it’s beating for you, for the knowledge that you’ll be mine very soon, and we’ll be together always.”

  Grace cracked the last of the eggs into a bowl and used a fork to whip them into shape. “I hope that Otto Crowder’s got some fresh eggs in the general store today. We’re out, and you can’t keep a kitchen going without eggs,” she told Simon.

  “I’ll go with you after a while,” Simon said. “Or else just make a list of what you need, and I’ll stop by the Emporium and save you going out.”

  The eggs were scrambled, the bread toasted in the oven and the coffee was bubbling on the back burner when Simon went up the stairs to get Ethel. She was awaiting his arrival, dressed for the day in a clean, starched housedress, all buttoned up, her slippers on and her face shiny from the warm water in her basin. To Simon’s eyes, she seemed fully recovered from her close call.

  “I believe I’m hungry,” she said, taking Simon’s arm and making her way down the stairway. They settled at the kitchen table and breakfast was served. Grace rose to clear up the dishes and Simon drank the last of his coffee.

  He took his watch from its pocket and checked the time, then rose from the table. “I won’t be gone for long, Grace, but I feel I need to go over to the saloon and see Belle. I’m thinking she could use some comfort right about now, and a bit of praying never hurt anyone.”

  “I’ve made a list, Simon,” Grace said, pulling a piece of paper from the depths of her apron pocket. He took it, noting the items and nodding as he put it in his pocket.

  “I’ll stop on my way to see Belle, and then when I’m done there, your things should be all packed up in a box for me to bring home.” He bent and kissed her quickly and left by the back door, Grace locking it behind him.

  “Well, I’d better start thinking about getting ready for a wedding,” Ethel said, watching as Grace poured hot water into the pan in the sink where the breakfast dishes waited. “You’ll be busy at the church a good share of the time after the wedding, Grace. I think you’ll have your hands full with the ladies’ missionary group and all. Bet they’ll have you teaching a Sunday school class, too,” Ethel said. “I’ll send word to a couple of the ladies and let them know that I’ll be needing a bit of help for a few days, making plans for your reception and all.”

  Grace flushed brightly at Ethel’s words. “I didn’t think of all that. I’m taking on more than just a husband, aren’t I? Our pastor’s wife back home when I was a girl used to organize all the church socials and the wedding showers when one of the young ladies was married. She had to keep flowers in the church, too. Every Sunday morning there were fresh bouquets on the communion table. Being a minister’s wife means more than taking on a new name.”

  Ethel laughed. “Don’t get all stirred up yet, missy. Those ladies will have them a time, lending a hand and offering help with things. I know Maude Parker is a right hand with quilting. You just ask her and I’d be willing to guarantee she’ll take over the quilting bees. It’ll make her feel important, and take a load off you. And when it comes time to putting together a church social, you just ask Mabel Hicks how she makes her marble cake and she’ll volunteer to be in charge of all the cake-baking, you watch and see. And Lettie Proctor is the best woman in town when it comes to providing volunteers for making up baskets at Christmastime for those who need help.”

  “Oh, Ethel! What on earth would I do without you? You’ll have to help me to bring all those names to mind. I’m going to need you, that’s for certain. I’ll never remember all that you just told me.”

  “Well, we’ll just put our heads together whenever the need arises, Grace. It’s not any problem at all and I’ll be here to help you in any way I can.”

  “My life will be so different.” Grace took a deep breath, her hands rising to cover her cheeks. “My world’s all changed around, Ethel. I wonder what my mama would say if she knew what all has happened to me.”

  “I reckon she’d be tickled to death, girl. Ain’t every day a young woman gets courted by a preacher, and finds a new place in life. Both her and your daddy are no doubt happy for you.”

  “Do you suppose they know?”

  Ethel nodded. “I’m no great authority, but there’s more goes on in the afterlife than any of us earthlings got any clue of. How do we know whether or not our happiness don’t kinda leak over onto the other side? I’d like to think your mama knows you’re happy, Gracie. She sure couldn’t have asked any better for you than to meet Simon and for him to fall head over heels for you. He looks at you like you’re the best thing since…well, since clothespins was invented.”

  Grace hung the dish towel she’d used over the front of the sink and turned to face Ethel. “My head is all awhirl with things, Ethel. What with the wedding coming up so quickly, I’m in a dither.”

  “Don’t you worry about all that,” the housekeeper said soothingly. “Everything will fall into place.”

  “Well, I know he’s set the date. It’s to be Saturday next,” Grace said softly. “He’s already let his folks know and the bishop has agreed to come. Did you hear Simon when he spoke of letting the deacons at the church know of his plans? He felt a marriage would solve the problem of gossip being widespread, for he’s more than aware of the danger of folks not recognizing the need of my staying here with you both.”

  “Well, I think it’ll all work out just fine, Grace. And now it’s our job to get busy planning a nice wedding for the two of you. The ladies in town will be pleased to arrange the details of the reception. All we need to do is let them know what your plans are and they’ll take over. Simon is a good man and his congregation will be happy for him.”

  So easily it was done, Grace thought, sitting on the edge of her bed an hour later looking around the room she would be moving from, in order to sleep in Simon’s bedroom from now on. The handmade quilt she sat on no doubt came from the hands of the women Simon served and the oval rug by the bed displayed the talents of one of the women from the church. She was surrounded with evidence of Simon’s
standing in the community, for even the crocheted doilies on the dresser had been gifts from some lady in his congregation.

  She opened the long drawer in her dresser and then looked up into the mirror provided for her use. She was flushed, her hair needed attention and confusion had set her thoughts scrambling. First things first, she decided, reaching for her brush, bringing a semblance of order to the strands that had escaped her hastily constructed braid. After a moment’s brushing and another few minutes spent with a cloth and warm water, she felt better able to go back downstairs.

  Hearing sounds in the kitchen, she went through the doorway, to find Ethel sitting at the kitchen table, that lady intent on making plans, already armed with a pencil and a piece of paper. As if organizing a wedding must be of utmost importance, Ethel seemed eager to plunge into arrangements, and Ethel Anderson on a mission was something to behold, Grace decided almost immediately.

  In fact, within half an hour Ethel had managed to plan all but the bridal bouquet. But as she said, she’d make it herself and the bouquet would be a surprise for Grace.

  “If Simon can fit us into his day, we’ll go to the Emporium tomorrow and find a dress for you or else some pretty fabric I can sew up. We have time to make a lovely dress, Grace, so if there isn’t one ready-made that will suit us, we can just make our own.” Ethel summed up her plans and waited for Grace’s approval.

  “That sounds fine to me. I’m rather new at this sort of thing, so I’ll bow to your superior judgment, Ethel,” Grace said with a soft sound of laughter.

  It was almost an hour later when Simon entered the front door of the parsonage, his voice calling out to the two women in his household. The sound of her name on his lips was more than welcome to Grace. She’d been dusting the wooden pieces in the parlor, wiping picture frames and fluffing the pillows on the sofa. There was little left for her to do in the house, for Ethel was determined she should not labor overmuch at housework.

  And now Simon stood in the doorway, his gaze seeking her out, a box of supplies from the general store in his arms and his demeanor that of a man shaken to his core. It was obvious to Grace that he was upset beyond belief at the sight he had just been privy to in the room over the saloon. His face was white and strained, and furrows lined his brow.

  “It could have been you, Grace. He could have damaged you the way he hurt Belle, and even though I ache for her pain, I can only be thankful that you were spared such an amount of abuse,” he said quietly, carrying the groceries to the kitchen and then turning to Grace. His arms went around her. Held so closely in his embrace, she was able to feel the trembling he could not contain.

  “It was all I could think of when I left her, that you might have been the one with broken ribs. I’ve tried not to ever hate another human being, but I’m not sure I can face this test. If God truly wants me to be his servant, I’ll need help in dealing with my anger.”

  “I’m so sorry, Simon. Not just for Belle, but for you, too. My injuries healed quickly and I’m thankful. You see so much of the bad in life, and yet on Sunday morning, you must face your congregation and offer them hope for their future and the promise of love from the Heavenly Father. And all the time, you must be wondering how He can allow such things to happen.”

  Two tears slid down her cheeks as Grace tried to express her thoughts to Simon, and he could only hold her closely, his need for her apparent. He drew her into the parlor, then sat with her on the sofa, his arms still surrounding her, his lips touching her face, the faint rasp of his whiskers against her cheeks making her smile as he held her near. He leaned back after a few moments and his gaze touched hers.

  “I seem to spend a lot of time with my arms around you of late, Grace. I hope you don’t mind.”

  She shook her head. “You know I don’t, Simon. I enjoy your kisses and the feel of you close to me.”

  “Grace, I know you have some bad memories of things that have happened in your past. I’m trying to keep that in mind as we approach our wedding. I don’t want you to be fearful of me or what we will share after we’re married,” he said. “And you’ve certainly known harsh treatment at the hands of at least one man. I’m trying to take all of that into account when I think of the beginning of our marriage.”

  “I’ll do my best to be what you want, Simon. But I’m not certain I feel equipped to be the wife of a minister. There’s a lot more to it than even you seem to understand,” she said. “But I’ll do my best to support you and do my part. I hope you know that.”

  “I do, Grace, and I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.” His smile was warm, the mood lighter as he began to speak of his part in getting ready for their wedding.

  “I’m going to get a crew of men together the day before the wedding. We’ll spend a couple of hours getting the church ready for the big day. And I’ll need to get a new tie. Seems like I ought to have a new shirt, too.”

  “I can take care of both items easily, Preacher. Don’t forget Ethel and I are going to the Emporium tomorrow.”

  “Do you feel like taking a walk with me right now?” he asked, and she beamed a smile in his direction.

  They left the parsonage then, walking down the road to the train station where Simon inquired as to an answer to his wire. The stationmaster shook his head and laughed.

  “Hardly enough time for them to send one, Preacher. Try again tomorrow.”

  Simon grinned sheepishly and nodded. “I’m an anxious groom it seems. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Grace looked up at him as they strolled back to the parsonage, aware that his attention was on their surroundings, his gaze on the lookout for problems should they arise.

  “I don’t mean to hurry you along,” he said with a chuckle, his hand holding hers as they made their way back to the parsonage. But Simon lengthened his stride as he encouraged Grace to move more quickly. He felt exposed, as if eyes watched them, and his spine was chilled, realizing how fragile life was with danger all about. Simon yearned for the safety he’d taken for granted for so long.

  He held open the gate for her to step into the front yard and together they went up the walk to the porch, Grace coming to a dead halt and uttering a sound that was almost a scream, stepping back, almost falling from the single step.

  For there, lying on the stoop, atop the mat placed to wipe boots or shoes upon, was a bouquet of weeds tied with string. A mockery of her wedding bouquet was all that Grace could think of. Simon reached down and snatched up a piece of paper from the midst of the dried weeds, and opened it, reading the scrawled lines and then crumpling it within his palm. He gathered the obscene bundle of weeds in one hand and turned Grace from the porch.

  “Oh, Simon, who would do such a thing?” she cried aloud, tears rolling down her cheeks as she thought of the mockery of what would be so large a part of her wedding day. “What did the note say?”

  “Never mind, Grace. We’re taking it to the sheriff right now and giving it to him.”

  “Was it intended for me?” she asked, knowing even before she spoke the words that there was no doubt as to who the intended recipient was.

  “I’m afraid so.” Supporting her with one long arm around her waist, he led her from the porch.

  They crossed the road and in moments were at the jailhouse. Simon opened the door, startling Charlie Wilson, who rose from his chair hurriedly. “What’s wrong, Simon?”

  “This was left on my porch.” Simon gave him the crumpled bit of paper and placed the weeds on his desk. He watched as the sheriff straightened the note to read it.

  “What the hell is this?” he growled, and then looked at Grace with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to cuss that way, but you must have been about shocked out of your shoes to see this.”

  “Simon wouldn’t show me the note. Looking at the weeds was bad enough. They were left for us to find. We’d just returned from the train station.”

  Charlie muttered darkly beneath his breath for a moment, then turned to the man who watch
ed him, awaiting his opinion. “Well, it was no doubt intended for her eyes, Simon, and she’d might as well know what sort of a—”

  As if he thought better of the term he was about to use, Charlie turned to Grace. “It says he hopes you’ll think of him while you enjoy his bouquet of flowers. Stupid bas—” Charlie swallowed the word, unspoken.

  He crumpled the note, then as if thinking better of it, unfolded it and smoothed it against the surface of his desk before slipping it into the center drawer.

  “We’ll just save that to show the judge when he gets here. I’ll put this mess in the back room,” he said, lifting the weeds and carrying them through the doorway to his storage area. “Just wish I had a prisoner for him to haul back with him.”

  “Nothing yet?” Simon asked, almost without hope, for this was a daily query.

  Charlie shook his head. “No sign of him yet. Joe offered to have his men watching for him, even the fellas up at the line shack, north of here. He seems to have had a change of heart about things. It’s about time, I’d say.”

  “Well, at least he’s willing to cooperate to that extent. I thought for a while he wouldn’t even do that,” Simon said, his tone angry, his eyes sharp as he spoke of Grace’s uncle. “Grace sent him a note, inviting him to the wedding. She doesn’t want any hard feelings with Joe to darken our wedding day. And Joe seemed pleased to get a special invitation.”

  “I think he’s decided to do the best he can to find the fella, Simon. But Kenny knows we’re after him, and he’s a slippery one, that’s for sure. But unless he’s left the area, we’ll find him or he’ll give himself away, one way or another.”

  “Well, Miss Grace and I have a wedding to plan, sir, and I’d like to ask you to stand up with me in church. Kinda give me your moral support.”

  Charlie looked more than pleased. “That would be an honor, Simon. I’ll wear my best bib and tucker for the event.”

  Grace was silent as they walked back to the parsonage, and Simon’s anger was stirred against the fates that seemed to destroy her happiness.