by Tanya Hanson
“My goodness. Drugged?”
He nodded. “By the time she stumbled home, her grandparents, very old country, were too embarrassed to call the police or get her medical care. They just sent her home to Texas.”
“What about her friends?”
“She didn’t tell them either. Her shame was so real.”
“But disease, pregnancy?”
He shrugged. “I guess she dodged some bullets. Thing is, when she ran out, I was humiliated. But worse was finding out she didn’t care enough about me, about what we had, what we’d built, to confide in me. To let me help her through it. To help her find her faith again. I would have been there for her, through thick and thin. She just didn’t think enough of me to let me.” He slapped his knees, cheeks hot. “Since then I don’t like anybody I care about keeping me in the dark.”
“That’s quite some tale. I feel for her.” Mary Grace’s voice was as gentle as the hand she laid over his. “I feel for you. But none of us knows how we’d deal with a tragic circumstance. It’s so easy to be a Monday morning quarterback. Grant was so big and strong. I thought he’d be there to lean on no matter what. And then…he wasn’t.”
“Well, I’m not that man.” He wanted to assure her, to let her know everything in his heart. “I’ll be at your side for the duration. Whatever we’re dealt. Whatever comes our way, God will give us the insight, the strength to make it our own. Make the best of it. If you’ll have me, Mary Grace.”
Her eyes shone a brighter blue than he’d ever seen before. Maybe it was the rays of the setting sun. He liked to think it was love.
“Scott, darling, do it right, please. Get on those knees. And, well. You’re going to have to ask Creighton, you know. For my hand.”
“I think I like the idea of you walking up the aisle, pushing his wheelchair.”
“That could work.” Her hand teased the back of his neck.
“Mary Grace Wesley Gibson, would you do me the honor of having and holding me forever and ever? I promise to do the same.”
“I will, Scott Loren Martin. Now let’s get to the party.”
“Should we announce it tonight?” Scott asked. “I’m a newbie at these things.”
For a moment, her face clouded as if bad memories passed through her head. “No. No. We need to tell my parents. And let’s have a little engagement party. Nothing fancy. The wing-ding Grant had for us had almost five hundred people. I didn’t know more than three or four. Besides…”
“Besides what?”
“I don’t know but…Christy cut her trip short. And she was glowing. Wouldn’t it be fun if she’s got some good news of her own to announce?”
“You mean, about her award?”
“No, silly. I mean something she couldn’t wait to get home to tell her husband.” She whispered close into his ear.
Scott slapped his knees. “Oh, mercy. You think?”
“Just a guess. But my gut’s been right in the past.”
“Well, Daisy’s pregnant, too. That’s one reason for the party. But that’s a big surprise. Don’t say a word.”
“I won’t say a word about that. But I so want to say I do.”
His hat tumbled to the porch as he drew her close, tasting love, tasting hope, and even a hint of forever.
“By the way, Mr. Martin,” she mumbled against his lips. “I guess we won’t be needing to attend singles Bible study tonight.”
8
Her last day at Mountain Cove High School, and somehow it hurt.
As Mary Grace locked Kenn’s classroom door on Friday, Scott’s high school ring swung on a gold chain inside her sweater where no one else could see. Their silly but fitting private joke until the official engagement ring. They still had to ask for her parents’ blessing, introduce Creighton to Scott, and tell his family. She doubted it would be a big surprise, but right now, the Martins were in seventh heaven about the two new babies due next summer.
Mary Grace had been right. However, with Kenn doing well enough to return to his classroom on Monday, she’d be heading back to Lost Canyon soon. She sniffed away a tear. Departing Hearts Crossing would be like leaving part of her soul behind. Well, her heart for sure.
After a quick stop in the lunchroom for her goodbyes, Scott was picking her up for the drive to Broken Bow. To meet Creighton.
“Miz Gibson?”
A voice preceded the footfalls of a runner headed toward her. A voice she recognized. Keith Murphy. Her heart thudded even though he hadn’t been any trouble after serving his detention. On Wednesday, he’d been out sick, and after that, Scott’s words—well, St. Paul’s—from Ephesians had spoken louder than any reprimand.
Forgive and be kind.
“Yes, Keith?” She stopped to face him, wondering if she needed sternness or more kindness.
The boy’s face was flushed, but he soldiered on. “I need to apologize. You coulda made real trouble for me and Coach Doering woulda let me have it. Suspended me from the football team. So thanks. I…well.”
With the mood of her new love, she had to help him out. “Keith, you did your time.”
“Well, it bugged me.” He looked at his feet. “You taking your kid away from his dad and all.”
Ah. Her decisions still bothered this troubled boy. Maybe....maybe he could deal with the truth. “I know it upset you. But Keith, you don’t know the whole story. My son has serious health issues. His dad took comfort in a new family.”
Keith’s mouth dropped open. Yes, the Hall of Famer Grant Gibson had become less than a hero now although Mary Grace did her best not to censure him. “But my son and I are at peace. I know it’s hard, with a single mother. But there’s usually another side to any story. So go easy on your mom.”
Keith’s eyes narrowed. “So you and Scott Martin? You’re a couple?”
“Yes.” Oh, how sweet the sound of those words. “Yes, we are.”
“Cool!” His eyes widened, his face lightened with a smile. “So that means I’ll see you around.”
“Yes, I guess you will at that.” She held out her hand, and Keith took it somewhat awkwardly and then ran off again.
Kids. She shook her head. Before she got to the end of the hallway, another figure headed toward her. Principal Scovell.
“Well done, thou good and faithful servant,” he said. Mary Grace wasn’t surprised at the Biblical quote, for Hank Scovell was a committed Christian and an active member of Pastor Hale’s church. “I can’t thank you enough for helping us out.”
“Thank you for taking the chance with me,” she said, giving him a hearty handshake. “I am so grateful for the reminder. How much I love teaching, you know.”
“Glad to hear that. That’s what I need to talk to you about.”
Wings of hope fluttered through her. But no. There’d been endless budget cuts…
“Yes?”
“Well, I have just gotten wind of an opening for next semester. Language Arts. A maternity leave. Do you know Sandra Meyer?”
“Yes, I do, but...” Mary Grace knew the maternity leave had already been covered from sitting with Sandra at lunch one day.
Hank Scovell’s smile reached his eyes, all professional sternness gone. “Well, it appears her replacement wants a maternity leave herself. She just found out about her own new baby and no longer wants the job. So I’m wondering if you’d like to cover Sandra’s classes?”
Restraint was impossible. Mary Grace threw her arms around the man. “Oh, Mr. Scovell, yes. Yes. I’d love the job.”
“All right. And you can certainly call me Hank. It’s about time. I can’t promise anything for next fall, but…I’d like you to stay on through June. If you’ve a mind.”
Mary Grace could barely breathe. Already Daisy Martin had indicated she might want to take an extended maternity leave next fall from the Christian school in Rustic Canyon where she taught.
Scott’s ring bounced against her heart. God had sent her more blessings than she could bear. And this afternoon would be no di
fferent. Creighton’s first meeting with Scott. That reality had her heart banging even harder against her ribs.
But now…
“I’ve more than a mind, Hank. You’re the answer to a prayer. Yes. Thank you so much for considering me.” Humbly, she tossed a silent prayer toward heaven.
They shook hands again, sealing the deal.
“Your reputation has preceded you, Ms. Gibson. We’re lucky to have you.”
With a salute, she headed straight to the parking lot to meet Scott. She couldn’t wait a second longer to tell him the wonderful news. After all, she wasn’t really saying goodbye to Mountain Cove High. At her approach, Scott got out from the driver’s side, arms extended as she ran into them. Air squeaked from her lungs as he held her tight.
“Oh, Scott, Hank Scovell just offered me a long-term substitute job. All next semester!” His heart thudded against her ear.
“Good job, pretty lady,” he muttered into her hair. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Well, it’s God, Scott. I’ve been needing jobs and He’s leading me here.” She raised her face to his, reading the same wonder she felt.
“And He led you to me. While I don’t deny the teenagers of Mountain Cove get a terrific teacher, I get to have you close by. And you and Mallie can plan one blistering wedding.” He helped her into the truck and tightened her seatbelt.
“Yes, indeed,” she said, once settled. “Something small, tasteful. Posy’s Grove next summer, maybe?” Her mind flashed to the pretty spot on the shores of Old Joe’s Hole, the venue for many of Hearts Crossing’s destination western weddings for city folks. The place formerly called Posy’s Grave where ancestor Josephus had buried his faithful mule.
“I don’t think I want to wait that long,” Scott leaned close, his lips brushing her cheek.
“Wait that long? A wedding can take a year to plan.” She recalled her first one. “I’m only talking eight or nine months.”
Eight or nine months. She and Scott apparently had the same thought at the same time. The new babies headed to Hearts Crossing. “Yes, yes.” She admitted. “We do need to consider Christy’s and Daisy’s due dates and plan around the upcoming bundles of joy.”
“Woodside Chapel?” Scott suggested as he started up the engine, and Mary Grace nodded, thoughtfully. The little sanctuary, part of a small nearby development Christy had been hired to landscape, had been only half-finished when she married Kenn. However the beautiful photographs of beams draped with white lights and pine boughs were stunning.
“I’d love that. And Kelley has already hijacked Easter time.”
Scott grinned. “What do you expect when she’s marrying a guy named Jason Easterday?”
“Then August, I guess.”
“All righty. Sounds like a date.” Scott winked. “Now let’s go get that permission for your hand from the other men in your life.” He slowly maneuvered through the parking lot.
Yes, Creighton first. Then they’d stop for the night at her folks’ in Lost Canyon.
“I’m excited, Mary Grace. I really am. Thanks for sharing your special boy with me. For trusting me enough.”
A flush of heat claimed her. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
“Nope. For everything, there is a season. A reason.” His right hand gently touched her cheek. Her nerves bundled in glorious anticipation, and she hugged Scott’s arm as they headed out of Mountain Cove. Her first home as a grownup. And now her last.
****
The scenery along I-25 usually thrilled her, but today was the start of a new chapter in her life. Her mind wasn’t ready for adjectives; her heart trilled with nerves. God, I know they’ll like each other. But please anyway?
Two hours and a coffee stop later did nothing but amp up her nerves.
“Wow.” Scott turned to her as he parked in a large looped driveway in the affluent neighborhood of Broken Bow. The tree-shaded, one-acre lot with the big brick house welcomed newcomers, and wide lawn invited visitors. The surrounding views of mountains, city and rural regions iced the cake. Mary Grace had selected the home with great care, not just for its amenities but for the Christian love and compassion inside.
“Yeah, ‘Sosa’s Souls’ Group Home is something.” Her fingers trembled as she squeezed his. “Gale Sosa, who owns and runs the home, had a long career as a pediatric nurse. Her husband was a wealthy developer, and when he passed away, she wanted to do something to give back.”
Too eager to wait for Scott, she got out of the car, the gift bag holding the brown knit hat he’d gotten Creighton in one hand. Scott took her other.
“It’s a fully licensed and zoned facility, compliant of course with all ADA regulations,” she said. “The staff is awesome. Includes a qualified professional called the QP who reports to Social Services.” Her heels crunched on the long, stone-encrusted walkway, voice shaking and heart pounding. “It killed me to leave him, but I know God led us here. There are some state assistance programs, of course, but for all his warts, Grant has never complained about paying our son’s bills.” Her voice turned wistful. Grant’s financial care was a blessing, and she thanked God anew. How many fathers abandoned their financial obligations for their special needs child, she didn’t know, and didn’t want to.
She knocked, heart thumping. Of course all would go well. How could it not? And when Gale Sosa opened the door, dressed like any suburban grandmother, her eyes sparkled.
“Hi, Mary Grace. We’re all set.”
“Gale, this is Scott Martin.” Joy surged, and she had to explain. “Creighton’s soon-to-be-dad.”
The sparkling eyes brightened even more. “Happy to meet you, Scott. Well then, God bless you both.” With a wide sweep of her hand, she stepped aside to invite them in, allow them entrance.
“Here’s your boy. He’s been waiting, patient and excited both.”
Unable to stop the tightening of her heart, Mary Grace accepted that the pain of separation would always war inside her. She gestured the time-honored sign for I love you. Face ablaze with joy, Creighton burst into bright laughter, his arms wide but flopping. Then he waved his own signal for love back at her. Of course he was belted tight in his wheelchair. Excited but controlled, she hurried to him and buried him in her arms. When she stood back, his broad little face shone, and his eyes questioned.
“Creighton, this is Scott. He’s special to me. Special to you.”
He giggled again, gave a brilliant smile and wagged his hands. She knew her boy, knew what he wanted. Knew what Scott wanted, too.
“Scott, take his hand. He’s going to love you.”
Tears dripped down Scott’s face as he did just that. Mary Grace’s heart almost beat out of her chest.
Creighton’s eyes danced as he glanced between the two of them.
“I gave him my hand,” Scott said. “And I lost my heart.” Wrapping himself about the boy’s jerky movements, he held him close, and Creighton pealed with laughter.
God is love, Mary Grace said silently, words failing her. Prayer sustaining her.
“Every boy needs a dad,” Scott told Creighton whose big blue eyes shone bright. “And I’m gonna be yours.”
Epilogue
The following August
The drive to Hearts Crossing from their new townhome took just a few minutes. At the sea of cars parked around the place, Mary Grace laughed out loud. Catching sight of Doyle Calhoun’s helicopter started tears coursing her cheeks.
“A tiny wedding,” she gasped. “Yet a rehearsal dinner for a hundred.”
Scott took a hand from the wheel to squeeze hers. “That’s my ma. Better get used to it.”
Although pulling up to the ranch always hitched her breath, tonight, the eve of her wedding, the thrill was almost beyond imagining. Strings of white lights outlined every building, even the corral fence.
Better than that, Hearts Crossing Ranch was now a full-fledged CETR facility.
She caught sight of Creighton, her love, her heart, howling with laughter in his w
heelchair on the porch. Ella wreathed with smiles at his side.
“Isn’t he something?” Scott breathed the words as Mary Grace thought them. Parking the truck, they joined hands and ran up the ramp Scott had installed. Seeing her, Creighton burst into new glee. Along with Ella, they group-hugged.
“There’s somebody else here, Uncle Scotty,” Ella said in a solemn voice when she pulled away. “And Aunty Mary Grace.”
Mary Grace turned to hug the little girl. “There are lots of somebodys here, sweetie,” she said with a kiss for Ella’s cheek.
“I know.” She kissed Mary Grace back. “But Uncle Kenn wasn’t very happy when he heard the name. But…” Her plump forefinger rested thoughtfully at her cheek. “…the guy does like playing with Creighton.”
A funny excitement hackled Mary Grace. Scott’s arm hugged her shoulders as they headed toward the front door. Nothing mattered but the love around her and the life that was beginning. However….if the confidence of Scott’s love, the wonder of kindness, and the grace of forgiveness had brought about the final miracle, her wedding day would be complete.
And God had so willed.
Grant met her outside the front door. Cautious, hesitant. “Mary Grace?”
Of course she opened her arms. For a second, she held her child’s father against her trembling heart. “I didn’t think you’d really come, Grant. I’m so glad you did.”
“I am too, Mary Grace. Honest.”
Scott extended his hand for a hearty shake. “Scott Martin, the bridegroom. Same here. Glad you could make it.”
“I...I…” The confidence that had won Grant a championship ring seemed to fail her former husband now. “I was, I mean, shocked to get the invitation. But I couldn’t miss being here. Really. You’re one lucky man, Martin. And you, Mary Grace. Our boy is wonderful. I…I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
She squeezed his hand. “It’s all about the tomorrows, Grant. All right? If you think he’s wonderful now, just wait until you get to know him better.” She paused. “If you want to, I mean.”