The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels) (67 page)

“Jason,
even in this place,
there’s a better way to live.
” The words spewed from her mouth as though she feared not being able to get them out.
“
I don’t know what you endured in your life to make you so angry—to make you hate so much—but I can tell you about—”

“I don’t want to hear about your God!”
H
e thundered
the words
, his face black with rage
as he pounded a fist against the table
.
“You people are
all alike. You think you can solve all the world’s prob
lems with love, peace
,
and joy.”

The guard cleared his throat
in warning
.
Matt gr
ipped
Gracie’s
shoulder to encourage her
,
hesitant
to be too demonstrative and
risk
draw
ing
more
of Jason’s
wrath down
on
her head.

Sh
e glanced
over
at him
, tears
pooled in her eyes. “I think it’s time to go.” She
faced Jason once more. “I’ll be praying for you.”

“Don’t bother,
”
he
sneered, his
voice colder than the iciest place on earth.

Chills ran down
Matt
’s spine. He couldn’t get Gracie out of here fast enough
.
He moved behind her and wheeled her
away
from the
icy confines of concrete walls
.

She cried
all the way out to the van and
for several minutes on the drive back to
home
. Finally
, her tears spent,
she wiped her eyes on a tissue he’d passed back to her. “I’m not sorry we went.
At least I had
the opportunity to tell him
I forgave him and to ask him to forgive me.”

Matt pulled to a stop at the red traffic light and glanced back at her.
“You’ve done nothing for him to forgive.”

Gracie
turned her head to stare
out the passenger side window
. “No one’
s
perfect, Matt. I’ve learned that even if someone perceives that we’ve hurt them,
even if we never intended to,
it’s worth
an apology
.”

His eyebrows rose
as he thought through her comment
.
Quite a turnaround for someone who once tried so hard to be perfect.
How had he managed to snag such a treasure? And would she say “yes” when he finally gathered the courage to ask for her hand in marriage?
He peered at her
once more
through the mirror.
“
You’re never
gonna
let me win an argument, are you
?’

A
mind-blowing
smile
blossomed on her face. “Not if I can help it.”

29

G
rac
i
e
parked
her
wheelchair
beneath an old oak next to Miller’s Creek Community Church and gazed toward the
field of bluebonnets that streamed down to the babbling creek. The scent of the bluebonnets combined with honeysuckle and fried chicken as p
eople jammed t
he
area
f
or the
church’s
annual spring picnic. L
aughter and happy voices rang out all around her, bringing a smile to her face.
What happy memories she had of times past at this very same even
t
.

Sudden l
onging gripped her. What she wouldn’t give to go back in time to the relative innocence of her childhood. She
shook off the heavy feel
ing and glanced to where Matt played
catch with his nephew, Bra
dy.

“Hold your glove like this, buddy.” Matt demonstr
ated and his nephew imitated the motion
. “Perfec
t.” He
softly tossed the ball so
it landed in the boy
’s mitt.

“I caught the ball!”
Bra
dy
jump
ed
up and down, his red curls glinting in the sunlight.

Matt laughed and watched his nephew race
to Andy with the news.
What a wonderful father he’d make.
She’d give anything to
be able to give him children of his own.

The familiar heartache returned, but she practiced pushing it gently aside and
turned once more to the One who lifted her head.
Thank you, God
, for giving me such a godly
man
. Help me
w
alk
again
so I can be a better partner
for him
.
Maybe then he
’
d ask her to marry him. As far as she was concerned, w
alking was
a prerequisite for marriage, and
for being engaged
,
for that matter.

Graci
e marveled at the change that
had t
aken place in her heart
.
S
he had the Lord to thank for it.
For one thing
he
r
desire to be a prosecutor had waned, replaced
with a compelling desire to defend
.
If
the events of the past several months
had taught her anything
,
it was
t
hat
everyone
needed
a defender.
The world was full of accusers, headed by the
chief accuser, the
enemy of her soul. But Christ was the ultimate
advocate
for those who belonged to Him.

A frown crossed her face. Somewhere along the way she’d confused God’s justice with human judgment. How had she gotten so far off track? Judgment
belonged to God
, and God alone. And h
uman judgment
only resulted in return judgment. God’s justice and grace were interwoven—opposite sides of the same coin. He couldn’t be separated from His justice any more than He could be separated from His grace.

A scene f
rom her childhood flashed to
mind. In her typical spontaneous way, Mama had pulled her out into a gentle spring shower. Together they’d danced in the rain until they were sopping wet. Grac
i
e made no attempt to wipe away the tears that sprang to her eyes. Yes, that was grace. Not just a speckled dot here and there, but s
omething you splashed
around in, floodwaters from an
endless source. There was no place it couldn’t reach. No heart it couldn’t change. No life it couldn’t redeem.
Every
breath—every heartbeat—was immersed in
His grace.

Unexpectedly, she laughed out loud from sheer joy. The latest splashes of God’s marvelous grace concerned her relationship with Matt. God hadn’t given her Mr. Perfect, but the man that was perfe
ct for her. The magnitude of His gift washed over her
.

Movement in her peripheral vision captured her attention.
Matt
sauntered up
, hands on hips,
just a few feet away to talk
to Steve
Miller
and his old geezer buddies.
A gust of wind whistled and tossed his sandy curls in several directions. With
his
flip-flops, rumpled t-shirt,
and
disheveled
hair
he could easily be mistaken for a beach bum.
He
was a f
ree spirit and always would be.

The thought brought a smile to her lips. She
brought her gaze to
the ground beneath her, tufts of spring grass now blowing in the gentle spring breeze, when just a few short weeks ago the area had seemed dead and devoid of life.
Maybe there was hope for her lifeless legs as well.
She’d recently felt a strange
tingling in her legs, but
told no
one, too afraid it wasn’t real. Had almost felt like she could walk on her own at therapy a few times
, but feared she couldn’t handle the disappointment if
she failed
.

“A penny for your thoughts.”
Matt’s soft voice sounded beside
her.

She whipp
ed
her head
around
and brought a hand to her chest
.

“Sorry
, sweetheart.
D
idn’t mean to startl
e you.”
He took
one tentative step forward t
hen stopped
,
as though
unsure whe
ther to proceed, indecision etched on his face
.

“My thou
ghts aren
’t worth much.”

In l
ess than a heartbeat, Matt knelt
in front of her, his hands gripping her bare arms. “Oh, Gracie Mae, don’t you see what a lie that is?”

He was right.
Another one
of the devil’s lies.
Would she ever learn to ignore them?
She lowered her head.
“I’m trying to do better.”
His
soft chuckle brought her eyes
to his. “What’s so funny?”

“That was
just
such a typical Gracie Mae thing to say.
Always trying to do better, to be better.”
His eyes lit with t
he kindness she never tired of.

She tilted her head to one side.
“What are you doing
here anyway?
I thought you had things to do
at the ranch
.
”

“I
did, but I
felt the need to clear my he
ad this afternoon
. A wise person once
said
that there was
nothing like a
walk on a beautiful
day to clear your head.
” He
p
laced a finger beneath her chin
and
tipp
ed her head back
to gaze into her eyes. “And you know what I think?”

“What?”

“I thi
nk God led me
here to
find
you. In fact, I was just talking to Him about you.
” He
stood, tucked his hands
in his pockets,
and sauntered to the oak to lean
against it
, the look in his eyes indecipherable
.

“You were?” Grace
turned
her gaze to her entwined hands at rest on her non-working legs. Already she dreaded the turn this conversation was taking.
“And what were you saying?”

“Oh, l
ots of thi
ngs.”

She scowled at his evasion tactic
s
. “Like what?”

He laughed
his familiar boyish laugh, his eyes taunting
. “What’s wrong, Gracie Mae? Am I getting you riled up?”

Grac
i
e
crossed her arms
and glared
. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Intentionally goad me until I’m ready to slap you.”

His laughter echoed off the
red bricks of the
church wall. He stepped toward her again, his lips curved upward.
“’Cause you’re so pretty when you’re furious.”

Her palm
itched to smack him, but
one look at the tender smile
on hi
s face was all it took to make
her irritation slip away
. “Whatever. You’d better watch it, mister.
”

A faraway look entered his eyes and
he sobered as he sauntered closer
.
“
Actually I have something to ask you.”