Saving Grace (Madison Falls)

by Lesley Ann McDaniel

  His voice betrayed his pain. “It’s not exactly hidden.”

  “Bringing it out once a week at church. Is that really what you want?”

  “What if it is?” He was holding back his anger, she could tell.

  “If that’s true, great,” she snapped. “I just think you’re kidding yourself.”

  Anger was clear on his face. “Look, I’m just a small town guy—”

  “So you don’t like cities, is that it?” Her pitch went up a half-step.

  “Not a big fan. Besides, my dad needs me here—”

  “You just don’t want to leave Madison Falls.”

  “Is that so terrible?”

  She felt flustered. Why did this suddenly matter to her so much? “I think you’re wasting your talent.”

  “Okay, I get that.” He steadied his voice. “But what did you mean, I should leave you alone?”

  She pulled in a breath. Stilling her pace, she faced him. “You say you care so much about me not getting hurt, but what about Jill?”

  His brow creased. “Jill? You think I’m not doing everything in my power to protect her too?”

  “Oh.” Her diva fire was back. “Like she won’t get hurt as long as she can’t see you walking around in the dark with other women?”

  “I don’t walk around in the dark with other…other women?” A wave of realization rolled across his face. “Wait a minute. You don’t think that I’m…”

  She folded her arms, bracing herself for his rationalization.

  He almost smiled. “You think I’m involved with Jill.”

  Her gaze dropped to the sidewalk, then back to his face. “You mean, you’re not?”

  “No.” His eyes entreated. “Where did you get that idea?”

  “Well, I…” She dove deep into her memory. Where did she get that idea?

  He held up a hand like a professor at the lectern. “Let’s get this straight. Jill is married to Caleb, my best friend.”

  “Oh.” Her head suddenly felt much as it had a few hours ago, when it slammed into the dashboard of her car. “So there’s nothing between you?”

  “Nothing. She’s Caleb’s girl.” His voice now dripped with emotion. “That’s why she was so bent on going after him that night you saw us outside the bar.”

  Another puzzle piece snapped into place. She’d assumed the guy in the park was there to score a deal, but now she understood. “And why she acted the way she did at the potluck when he showed up.”

  “You saw us at the potluck?” He smiled. “What have you been doing, surveillance work?”

  “Sorry. It’s a small town.”

  “And we wonder why small town gossip is such a cliché.”

  “Right. Sam, I was really wrong about you. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He chuckled. “So, you thought I was involved with Jill. No wonder you…” His voice trailed off.

  “No wonder I what?” Her jaw constricted.

  “I don’t know.” His eyes grabbed onto hers. “Acted like you weren’t interested.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but all that came out was air. Suddenly and unexpectedly, her heart ached for him. She looked into the chocolate brown eyes of a man who was attractive, accomplished, and available. Heaven help her if she moved on to the ‘B’ words.

  Though the distance between them was just a few feet, it felt like an unbridgeable gap. He was solidly grounded here in Madison Falls. She was a city girl. Green Acres, we are there.

  “Sam…” How could she explain how she felt? “I came to Madison Falls to hide.”

  He nodded. “I know. I get that.”

  What was she trying to say? “I really just wanted to keep to myself, and then you…. So many things changed for me.” She huffed out a laugh. “It’s been such a short time, but I feel so different.”

  He nodded. “That’s what they mean by being ‘reborn’.”

  Her voice caught in her throat. He had told her about salvation. Was that where these warm feelings were coming from? Was she mistaking them for something else?

  “It’s just that…” She wanted to say more, but where was her courage? “I’m going back to New York.”

  He lowered his eyes. “I understand.”

  She took another step before realizing they were standing in front of her house. She turned up the walkway, then a new thought brought her back around. “By the way…”

  His head snapped toward her.

  “I haven’t ‘gone for a spin’ either. In case you were wondering.”

  His eyes flitted down, then met hers with a slow smile. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

  She nodded her assurance.

  As he lifted a wave, his smile turned sad. Blinking, he turned, then headed back in the direction from which they’d come.

  She drew in a long breath as she dug in her purse for her key and climbed the porch steps. Why was she feeling this way? She had a plan—a good plan. It was finally safe for her to go back to New York. Sure, she had accepted Christ here, and it seemed clear now that God had used her situation with Kirk toward that end. Maybe He had even used Sam. But now it was time for her to return to her life, and there was no room there for him. Was there?

  Maybe it had been fate that she’d misunderstood him all that time. It would have been wrong for her to act on her feelings toward him. She lived in a different world. Turning the key, she pushed open the door.

  It was all for the best. She felt sad, but that was only natural. She’d lived in Madison Falls for nearly two months and had gotten to know people. She pressed the door shut, leaning her forehead on the cool wood.

  A pang of realization twisted her insides. She had told Sam she didn’t have any friends, but that wasn’t true. She did have friends. She’d made friends here. Turning, she leaned the back of her head against the door.

  She looked around. Something wasn’t right. Trouble always met her at the door, but the tiny rabble-rouser was nowhere in sight. Grace shook off the thought. The kitten had probably sensed that they’d be moving soon and cats weren’t exactly big on relocation.

  Expelling a sigh, she hung her purse on the closet doorknob, then wrapped her arms around herself. She followed her practice of scanning the living room, noting that the lamp near the window glowed just as she’d left it. She appreciated its elucidation of every corner as she turned to take a step into the room.

  Her head popped up. Something was wrong.

  Eyes snapping into sharp focus, she took in the outline of the dining room arch and the darkness beyond it. Hadn’t she left the light on in there?

  Cemented in place, her mind raced. She was certain she had followed her careful routine before leaving the house. Her memory of flipping the switch to illuminate the Craftsman fixture over the table was clear. The death of one light bulb was an unavoidable gamble, but eight all at once?

  Her stomach jumped to her throat as she gazed into the unlit room. To her tired eyes, it looked like the table had been set.

  Impossible. Kirk was gone.

  Recoiling, her eyes fixed on the darkened room. Suddenly, a shadow stirred. As she fumbled backward, the shadow resolved into the shape of a man and lunged at her.

  Her nightmare wasn’t over.

  Chapter 41

  Grace froze in a stare.

  There under the archway, looking slightly frazzled, stood the man she had hoped would play a significant role in her future.

  She felt her legs slowly thaw. “How did you get in here?”

  Devon advanced toward her. “That’s not exactly the greeting I had hoped for.”

  As he moved into brighter light, she drew back. He had always been so well-groomed, but now his face was scruffy, and the tail of his Armani shirt flapped over the waist of his wrinkled silk slacks, something he would never allow ordinarily. His normally coifed hair stuck up in spikes on one side, as if he’d just woken up.

  She fought to find her voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you really scare
d me.” Her heart pounded like a bass drum as she took a halfhearted step toward him. “It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing here?”

  “The theatre burned.” His face seemed hard. “I was worried about you.”

  Of course. She let out a breath. “I’m fine. Can’t we talk in the morning?”

  He angled a sly smile. “We won’t be here in the morning. It’s time to go home.”

  “Right.” She rubbed her brow. “You’re leaving.”

  “Not just me.” He moved toward her and caught her wrists. “You’re going with me.”

  This was more than her tired mind could process. “What do you mean?”

  “I heard what happened.” He tried to draw her closer, but she resisted. “You don’t have to worry about Kirk anymore.”

  “No.” Pulling away from him, she twisted her fingers together and stepped into the living room. “So much has happened.”

  He followed. “You got what you wanted. There’s nothing to keep you here.” The look in his eye seemed to mix desperation with affection—or maybe it was just the lighting. Had he sensed her uncertainty about Sam?

  She wavered before speaking. “Yes, but after what happened, I need some time to catch my breath.”

  He tossed his hand in disregard. “You can do that on the way home.”

  His persistence set her teeth on edge. “Devon, I really don’t want to drive across the country tomorrow.”

  “I totally agree.” He assumed the manner of a salesman refusing to hear ‘no’. “We can take a cab to Missoula and fly home together. There’s nothing to keep you here.”

  That was what she’d been telling herself for weeks. Why was she hesitating? “You’re right.” She eased closer. “I’m glad you’re here, and I can’t wait to get home.”

  “Good, because I booked our return flight. We’ll leave as soon as you can get your things together.”

  Her heart thumped. “You mean leave now? But I’m not ready.”

  “That’s not a problem.” His tone dismissed her concern. “I’m here to help.”

  “That’s nice of you.” Her head swam. At the very least, she needed a long shower and a good night’s sleep. Then there was her job. And her friends. She’d promised Sam she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. No, this wasn’t going to work for her. “Why don’t you go on ahead. I’ll meet you there in a day or two.”

  He jutted his chin. “Grace…Tracy. You don’t understand. We need to get to rehearsals.”

  “Rehearsals? Devon—”

  “I’m going out on a limb giving you this role. If you don’t come with me now, I’m afraid—”

  “I didn’t realize it was so urgent.” She tried to focus her tired mind. “You mean I’ll lose the role if I don’t leave with you now?”

  He lifted his hands, agitated. “This role is going to be a tremendous break for you.”

  That was true but still…something didn’t seem right. Only yesterday he’d been intent on leaving without her. Why was he pressuring her to go with him all of a sudden? She put her hands to her temples, trying to ignore the throbbing of her burned palm, and crossed to the sofa. “I just need to sit down for a minute.” How could he possibly expect her to leave on a moment’s notice, especially after what she’d just been through?

  “Of course. You must be exhausted.” He followed her, but remained standing. “Do you have any wine? I could pour you a glass.”

  The suggestion held no appeal, except that it might buy her some time to think. “Sure, sounds nice.”

  “Good. Why don’t you relax and I’ll see what you have.” Something caught his attention on the coffee table. “What’s this?”

  Her gaze shifted. She’d forgotten she’d left the newspaper Sophia had given her on top of the stack she’d intended to discard. The glimpse she caught of Kirk’s smarmy grin made her stomach curdle. “It’s an article about Kirk. Sophia thought I needed a reminder.”

  Devon’s demeanor grew visibly darker as he picked it up and studied the photo. “So, this is him.”

  Grace tipped her head. “That’s the gallery wall I told you about. I know it’s really blurry, but you can see his two Blackthorns right there.”

  “Amazing.” His voice was steady, devoid of feeling. He folded the paper, article to the inside. “Look, I don’t want you to have any reminders of him. Let’s get rid of everything like this and put the past in its place. In fact,” he wadded the paper into a ball and pitched it into the kindling basket. “Let’s turn it into a nice fire to enjoy our wine by. Then we’ll get going.” He produced a book of matches from his jacket.

  “Oh.” Her nerves jolted as he thrust the matches into her hand. Did he realize how insensitive the gesture was, considering that she’d nearly been kindling herself a few hours ago? All she wanted was to unwind and get some sleep, but she’d light the fire if it would make him happy.

  As their hands touched, a knock at the door caused a mutual flinch. Her pulse kicked into high gear as she recalled Sam saying he’d be driving back this way. Had he decided to stop? This was going to be very awkward.

  Exchanging a look of alarm with Devon, she sprang to the window and gasped. Turning to him, her mouth formed a single word. ‘Sophia’. Now this was going to be awkward.

  Steeling herself, she moved to the door and pulled it open.

  Looking considerably less self-assured than usual, Sophia’s eyes flitted from Grace to Devon and back. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “But I need to talk to him.”

  Grace turned, expecting Devon to register consternation. Instead, he folded his arms and firmed his stance. “What is, Sophia?”

  Sophia’s normally steady voice shook like a pompom at a pep rally. “Could we speak in private?”

  His jaw hardened in a moment of quiet thoughtfulness. With exhaled exasperation, he took her by the elbow and piloted her to the kitchen.

  Grace made a move toward the fireplace with a vague intention of completing her assigned task, then paused. The muted voices drifting from the kitchen tweaked her nerves, and she wondered for a second if Sophia was one of the ‘pretty little cars’ Sam had referenced. She tried to cast off the thought. What had that woman come here to discuss at this hour?

  Glancing casually at the dining table, she traveled on tiptoe toward it. She feigned a preoccupation with the placemats Lucy had made for her, as she strained an ear.

  “But it’s just not right.” Sophia’s tone was biting.

  “Get over it, Sophia. I’ve made my decision.”

  A satisfied smile crept across Grace’s face. They must be talking about the role. Get over it, Sophia.

  The sound of footsteps urged her back into the living room. As the kitchen door opened, Grace folded her hands. There was no point in gloating. Poor Sophia was upset enough as it was.

  Head down, Sophia moved slowly through the dining room. She paused, her gaze catching Grace’s for a split second. Some unidentifiable emotion flickered in Sophia’s eyes, and Grace’s polite smile fell.

  The brief exchange left Grace with an odd sense of foreboding completely unlike her normal post-Sophia disquiet. This time, the antagonism in Sophia’s demeanor hadn’t been directed toward her.

  “We wish you well, Sophia.” Sounding like a casting director after an unimpressive audition, Devon escorted her to the door.

  She stepped slowly through the foyer, her hands knotting in front of her abdomen. She paused just short of her exit.

  “Grace and I are leaving soon.” Devon’s tone was stern with finality.

  Sophia tilted a parting glance at Grace, a slight shake of her head barely discernible, and was gone.

  Grace creased her brow. That was odd, even for Sophia.

  “Well, that’s that.” Devon turned, as if nothing about this encounter had been out of the ordinary.

  “I feel bad for her.” Grace said, an unanticipated burst of compassion forming in her chest.

  “Sophia will be fine.” D
evon shrugged. “I admire her ingenuity. I mean, the lengths she went to keeping you away from Roberts.” He turned, speaking over his shoulder as he headed back to the kitchen. “Threatening you to stay away from him. As if he had any interest in her.”

  What? Was he saying that Sophia didn’t love him, but Sam? If that was true, Grace had spent the last three weeks steering clear of the wrong guy. How could she have been so foolish?

  Groggy and confused, she ambled into the living room. It all started to make sense now. Why Sophia had given her the ‘little reminder’ after seeing her in the hardware store with Sam. How Kirk had suddenly shown up when he did. Sophia had made good on her threat because Grace hadn’t understood the ground rules.

  Kneeling in front of the fireplace, she grabbed a piece of newspaper from the basket and crumpled it into a tight ball. Sophia had been nothing but a sharp bone in Grace’s corset since the moment they’d met. Yet she had seen the truth that Grace herself had been blinded to. Sam was drawn to her.

  What was she going to do? She placed the paper on the grate, then laid the kindling sticks and a crisscross of wood on top of it. She grabbed a match, struck it, and touched it to the paper.

  Fighting back reflections of the theatre fire that by now seemed like a lifetime ago, she focused on the soothing glow. An ache at the base of her skull had started to crawl upward, and she rolled her head back to ease it. The role of Carmen was at her fingertips. Why was she suddenly so tempted to stay put?

  She grabbed another piece of wadded paper and drew her hand back, stopping just short of launching it into the flames. Something compelled her to uncrinkle it, and she held the image of Kirk’s sickening smirk up in front of her.

  She jerked her eyes away. Devon was right—it was best for her to get rid of this. Mementoes of him would do nothing to ease her pain.

  She tried again to feed it to the fire, but stopped. The temptation to take one last look pulled at her. She smoothed out the paper. Forcing her eyes into sharp focus, she realized something wasn’t right. What was it?

  Images from that weekend in Chappaquiddick rolled to the forefront of her mind. She squinted, making out the details of the two Blackthorns Kirk had been so swollen with pride over. Since the finer points of the other artwork he owned had made no real impression, they remained fuzzy to her eye.