Through His Grace (13 page)

Nickels slammed the door to his truck and paced around it, jamming his hands in his pockets.

Lord, help me! I drove away
. What more could he do? After talking with his grandfather and praying about it he knew he wasn’t ready for a full-fledged relationship with a woman like Grace, no matter how tempting the idea was. A man didn’t fool around with a heart like hers…she was the marryin’ kind. The look on her face when she’d pulled away from him—it was like an icy knife had been plunged into his chest.

She was right to ask him where it was heading. But he didn’t even know—

“Where’re you goin’?” Dylan’s voice cut through his musings.

“What?” Nickels pulled up short.

“I asked if you had a particular place where you were goin’.” Dylan’s grin was measured with a hint of solemnity.

“Unfortunately”—he sighed—“no.”

“Then what say we go for a walk?” Dylan clapped his hand on Nickels’s shoulder and led him westward. They walked in silence, each wrapped in a blanket of his own thoughts, until Dylan broke the quiet. “Now Sondra would say men aren’t perceptive enough, but it seems to me something’s weighing on your mind.”

And soul
, Nickels agreed but simply nodded.

“Let’s sit down and see if we can’t lighten the load.” Dylan headed for an old truck sitting near a fence.

They each took a seat in the now doorless cab, peering through the dusty windshield at the sky. Nickels could barely make out any stars, the grime obscuring his vision.

“I could sit here all night waiting for you to spill your guts.” Dylan slapped his hand on the dashboard for emphasis. “Instead I’m going to get this goin’. Grace kept her distance from you today. I know you drove her and the kids home, and when you got back here you started pacing like the devil was on your back. Now, perceptive as I’m not, even I can see something happened with her.” Having said his piece, Dylan gazed at him.

“Yep.” Nickels ran his fingers along the cracked steering wheel.
I don’t know when I’ve felt further from the driver’s seat
, he mused without humor. Dylan’s earnest stare made him shift uncomfortably. “She asked me to hang around while she put the kids to bed. We sat out on the porch swing.” He waited for his friend’s nod. “Said she’d gone to the kids’ Back-to-School Night or somethin’ like that. Lizzie’s teacher asked who I was—seems as if she and Jake mention me a lot.”

“That’s a good thing.” Dylan put his hands behind his head, leaning back a bit. “You’re a part of their lives now, and it’s right that they’re comfortable with it.”

“I thought so, too.” Nickels ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “But it got Grace thinking about how much time we all spend together, and that made her edgy. She told me outright that she was worried for the children. Said they’d lost too many loved ones and it wasn’t fair to them for me to hang around so much if I wouldn’t always be there.”

“Whew.” Dylan sucked in a sharp breath. “What’d you say to that?”

“I asked her who said I wouldn’t be?” Nickels banged his palm on the steering column. “And she admitted Jake and Lizzie needed a man in their lives and said she knew it was a lot of pressure, but she needed to know if I intended to be that man.”

“Seems like a fair question.” Dylan’s comment took him by surprise. “I’ve wondered the same thing myself.”

“You—” Nickels stared at him for a moment. “I—”

“Kinda figured that was about as far as you’d thought it through.” Dylan grinned. “You sound like I felt when I met Sondra. Grasping for sanity.”

“That’s about the long and short of it,” he agreed, letting out a gust of a sigh.

“So what’d you tell her?”

“The truth.” He swallowed hard at the memory. “I couldn’t promise anything just yet.”

“Honest—but I’m guessing she didn’t take it so well.”

“You might say that,” Nickels admitted. “She told me it’d be best if she and the children only saw me in church or at the ranch. Then she slipped inside.” He made no mention of the tears glimmering on her lashes before she’d made her escape. It was too personal.

“And now you’re trying to work through it all.” Dylan rubbed his jaw, thinking. “Between you and me—and I think I already know the answer, even if you’re not certain—do you want to be the man in their lives?”

“Yes.” Now wasn’t the time for pussyfooting around the issue.

“Then what’s holding you back?” Dylan waited while the silence stretched between them, and Nickels wrestled with the question. “Look, Nickels. Prying isn’t in my nature. You’ve been a good friend for close to six years now, and I want to see you happy. Being with Grace makes you happier than I’ve ever seen you.”

“I know.” He put his hand to his temple. “Thing is, I don’t deserve her.”

Dylan’s chuckle made Nickels jerk his head up.

“What’s so funny?”

“Let me tell you something, Nickels. If amazing, Godfearing women like Sondra and Grace don’t quibble about the fact we’re unworthy of all they offer, we shouldn’t stew on it.” Dylan clapped him on the shoulder again. “Just thank the good Lord and move forward.”

“It’s not that simple.” Nickels turned to look his friend in the eye. “There are things you don’t know about my past, Dylan.”

“No,” his friend agreed, “I don’t know everything. But I know all I need to. You’re a man who tries to follow the Lord’s will, a hardworking ranch hand, a good friend, and a bright spot in the lives of Jake and Lizzie.”

“And that’d be enough for a boss and friend,” Nickels said. “But not for Grace.”

“All right.” His words wiped the grin off Dylan’s face. “What do you need to tell her, Nickels?”

“It has to do with what led me to Lawton the day I met Miller Quintain,” he began. “You already know I was heading toward my grandpa’s place when I stopped by the church in Lawton. What you don’t know is what brought me there.”

“Did Miller ever tell you why he called me ‘Nickels’?”

“I always assumed it was a play on your last name—Nichols.” Dylan rubbed a crick in his neck. “There’s more to it?”

“You could say that.” Nickels grinned. “Before that day I wasn’t a believer. But that Sunday I was a man who’d hit rock bottom—and knew it. It was time to change my approach to life, and the preacher was talking about how God offered us grace.” He stopped for a moment at the coincidence of how God’s grace had led him to Grace Willard. “So I decided to take Him up on it. When the collection plate came around, I gave all the cash I had in my pocket. It was precious little: two nickels.”

“And Miller spotted you,” Dylan guessed.

“He’d sat next to me and caught up with me after the service. He told me I reminded him of the widow with two mites and offered me a trial run as his ranch hand.”

“Sounds just like something Miller Quintain would’ve done.” Dylan grinned. “I’ll bet he was tickled pink when you told him your last name.”

“Yep.” Nickels smiled at the memory. “I stayed in Lasso, kept going to church in Lawton and, with Miller’s guidance and your example, became a full-fledged son of Christ. I owe the pair of you more than you’ll ever know.”

“I can’t speak for Miller, but I’m always happy to help another brother in Christ.” Dylan rubbed his hands together briskly. “So what brought you to that church?”

“The easy answer is the sign out front. You know—the one that says—”

“‘Let’s meet at My house before the game’—God.”

“That’s the one.” Nickels blew out a deep breath. “The more complicated answer is the reason I’m floundering now.” “And that would be…”

“Keep in mind I wasn’t saved when this happened.” He didn’t look at Dylan’s reaction to the warning. He’d never told anyone before and didn’t want to lose his nerve.

“I worked for a large company at the time—I was a CEO, as a matter of fact. Cassandra was a secretary. Despite the taboo we began dating. The relationship lasted quite a while—we even moved in together.” Nickels saw Dylan wince out of the corner of his eye but kept going.

“Then she told me she was pregnant. I had no doubts the baby was mine. I cared for Cassandra, we were living together, and she was expecting my child. It seemed so natural that we get married—I proposed that night.” He paused to fortify himself. Dylan’s expression gave nothing away—his friend sat still as a stone.

“She refused in the next instant, told me she didn’t want to have our baby. She was on the fast track to success, and new mothers didn’t get promotions after all. She needed to save up more money so she could pursue her dream of becoming an actress. Cassandra ‘didn’t have the time to waste,’ as she put it.” “No.” Dylan barely breathed the word.

“Exactly my reaction. I told her I would take care of the child and help support her while she tried to break into show business. I begged her not to abort my baby. She agreed—on the condition that I would buy her a house in Los Angeles so she’d have an investment and a home while she followed her dreams.” He ran his hand over his face. “I agreed. It took most of my savings—the real estate prices in Southern California were staggering—but I bought the deed to a modest condo.” “You have a child you never see?” Dylan’s voice was filled with wonder and a hint of anger.

“No.” Nickels spat out the word bitterly. “The day after I closed on the condo Cassandra went ahead with the abortion. She packed her things, blamed the whole mess on me, and walked out of my life. I tried to resell the condo, but her name was on the deed, too. When she found out, she wrote a letter to my superiors, alleging sexual harassment. She accused me of paying her off for her silence—sent a copy of the deed with my name on it. My company sacked me, and no other reputable business would hire me after an incident like that. That’s why I was going to my grandfather’s house.” He finished the confession of his past and hung his head in shame, waiting for Dylan to denounce him.

“Do you blame Cassandra for it all?” His friend’s voice sounded thoughtful, not condemning.

“For a long time,” Nickels admitted. “I still hold her accountable in part, but mostly I know it’s my fault.”

“She made her own choices, same as you,” Dylan said. “Have you forgiven her?”

“It’s been a long process, but, yes. When I was able to pray for her, I thought I’d given up my past sins to God and could move on. I ran across her picture in the newspaper—she’d managed to be a supporting character on a popular sitcom. I learned then that she’d gotten caught up in the drug scene and overdosed. I mourned her passing all the more because I didn’t think she was saved before her death.”

“You’ve come a long way,” Dylan said. “Have you forgiven yourself?” His question cut to the heart of what was bothering Nickels.

“No.” His lips thinned. “How could I?”

“God has,” Dylan pointed out. “Why do you still blame yourself?”

“I should never have dated her in the first place, never have lived in sin.” Nickels choked out the words. “I should have drawn up a contract—she’d get the house after the delivery of my child, not before. The responsibility lies on my own shoulders. I was more aware of that than ever when I accepted Christ.”

“As your
Savior
, Nickels.” Dylan stressed the word. “You’re saved, forgiven by God’s grace. That’s the gift you accepted when you became a believer.”

“I don’t deserve that, same as I’m not worthy of grace.” “None of us does, my friend. That’s the miracle of Christ.” Dylan closed his eyes. “Let me tell you something Miller once explained to me. The more righteous a man becomes, the fewer sins he commits. You know that’s supposed to be the way of it.” He waited until Nickels nodded morosely. “But the thing is, he’s more aware of them. Miller had a point when he told me that the more a man walks in God’s grace, the more he becomes aware of how little he deserves it.”

“So the fact that I know what a low-down, rotten person I was is supposed to be a good thing?”

“In a way, yes. If you don’t feel the depth of your transgressions, Christ’s forgiveness doesn’t mean as much to you.” “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“Then you know you have to forgive yourself to fully accept God’s love for you. And when you’re able to do that, nothing will stand between you and grace.”

“The principle of faith, or the woman?” Nickels wondered aloud.

“Either.”

Grace sprang to her feet as a pair of headlights flashed in her driveway. She hurried to the door and opened it to find Mary poised to knock.

“Come on in.” She ushered her friend inside and led her to the living room.

“First things first.” Mary held out her arms for a comforting bear hug. “God’ll see you through, Grace.”

“Thanks for being here.” Grace patted her friend on the back.

“Pah.” Mary waved her gratitude away. “That’s what friends are for. Besides, it’s been too long since we had a good heart-to-heart.”

“You’re right.” A fresh wave of guilt washed over Grace. “I’ve neglected you recently, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Mary glared at her. “I know that if I’d picked up the phone you would’ve invited me over no matter what the hour, so we’ll hear no more about it.” She thrust a bag toward Grace. “Chocolate?”

“Please.” Grace grabbed a piece, unwrapped it, and sank into its sweet richness. “Mmm.”