Wounded Grace

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Praise

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

Thank you

Wounded Grace

 

 

Tanya Stowe

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

 

Wounded Grace

 

COPYRIGHT 2014 by Tanya Stowe

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

 

eBook editions are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. eBooks may not be re-sold, copied or given to other people. If you would like to share an eBook edition, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

 

Contact Information: [email protected]

 

All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version
(R),
NIV
(R),
Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

 

Cover Art by
Nicola Martinez

 

White Rose Publishing, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC

www.pelicanbookgroup.com
PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410

 

White Rose Publishing Circle and Rosebud logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC

 

Publishing History

First White Rose Edition, 2014

Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-393-3

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

 

For my Sacred Heart Church family who have taught me much about God's grace.

 

Praise

 

Tender Touch

I loved this book, and can say in all honesty that it is one of the best I've read in the past year...and possibly longer. ~ Delia Latham, author of
Gypsy's Game

 

White Christmas

Ms. Tanya Stowe has, once again, written a great book that grabbed my attention and refused to let go! ~ The Romance Studio

 

 

 

 

1

 

Madison Harper paused in her digging, slid the gloves off her hands and placed her palms flat on the warm, moist earth. The soil's rich scent floated up to her. She closed her eyes, turned her face up to the warm, early spring sun and whispered, “Thank you.”

She didn't miss too many opportunities these days to praise the Lord. After two years of hospitals and rehabilitation, she was extremely grateful to be outside, beneath the golden sun, working the soil and basking in the glory of God's creation. She was glad just to be alive…gardening was a special bonus. She never thought she'd have full use of her leg again, let alone bend it beneath her like it was right now. She rubbed her thigh absently, as the memory of careening down the snowy hillside and slamming into the tree flashed through her mind.

Her fingers clenched into the soil. Not so long ago, that image would have sent her into a panic attack. She was in coma for two weeks after the accident. When she woke, her leg was pinned and immovable, and her mind was just as weak and frightened. Two operations later, doctors were convinced she'd never walk on it. Madison had almost started to believe them when her friend and mentor, Vivian Mallory, intervened.

“Our God is bigger than the doctors, Maddie. They don't get to have the last word. He does and I believe He wants you to walk again.”

Vivian was right. God did want Madison to walk again, and run, and even to move to this little bungalow complex in the corner of southeast Texas where she could discover how much she liked to dig in the earth.

“Those flowers aren't going to plant themselves, gal.”

Madison looked up. Andrew Hart, Vivian's husband and owner of Heart's Haven stood above her, leaning on a shovel. As she looked straight up, sun flashed all around him, so bright she could barely see the smile, hovering over his lips. His tone might have been grumpy but Andrew knew better than anyone what this activity meant to Madison.

Raising her arm to shield her eyes she said, “You just keep digging those holes, I'll catch up.”

“You've got two rows to fill with flowers now. I reckon I'll just rest here a bit till you're done.”

Even with her arm shading her eyes, the sun was so bright around Andrew she could barely see him. He shimmered with a golden aura. But she could hear the weariness in his tone. Andrew was almost eighty but still as active as a fifty-year-old.

“Maybe you should go sit for a spell on the porch of the big house.”

If Madison could have seen his face, she was sure she'd see one eyebrow raised, but he never said a word. He didn't have to. Madison knew what he thought of her suggestion. Smiling, she went back to work.

A wedding was coming to Heart's Haven. Kaci James and Ryne Calvert, two residents, were getting married in the Heart's Haven central court. Kaci had asked Vivian for her expertise as an interior decorator to help plan the wedding, and Mr. Hart was determined to make the complex postcard perfect. He'd hired painters to white-coat the big house and the bungalows and even enlisted his nephew Kevin to design and color coordinate all the grounds.

Madison slid a delicate paperwhite plant out of its plastic container, placed it in the ground and carefully filled soil around it. The flower was barely blooming but it already carried a sweet scent that drifted gently upwards. Behind the two rows of paperwhites was a bank of yellow daffodils. Next, Madison would plant a full tray of purple grape hyacinth and finally another tray of purple crocuses with yellow and white centers. Purple, white and yellow would be in full bloom everywhere on the grounds.

They didn't know about the wedding in time to plant bulbs. Kevin had to special order all these early spring plants from a nursery. It had cost a small fortune for plants so close to blooming, but Mr. Hart had declared it “worth every penny.” As Madison looked around at the sweet-scented, colorful flowerbeds taking shape, she had to agree.

A trickle of sweat worked its way down Madison's spine and eased beneath the band of her pants, tickling all the way. She was hot and starting to get itchy, but her discomfort only made her smile again. “Thank you, Lord. Thank you for the opportunity,” she whispered.

She slid the first of the tiny grape hyacinths out of its plastic container and dropped it in a hole. Without warning, a shadow covered the ground where she worked. Madison leaned back on her legs. Moments ago the sky had been clear.

She looked up. There wasn't a cloud anywhere to be seen. The sky was as clear blue as it had been moments before.

Madison's gaze jerked back down to the ground. All of her plants were still cast in a large, undefined, dark shadow. Where in the world was it coming from?

Suddenly, the shovel Mr. Hart had been holding fell in front of Madison, crushing the tiny hyacinths and paperwhites she'd just planted.

Madison gasped as Mr. Hart grabbed his chest, fell to his knees, and rolled over in the dark, warm earth. Madison ripped off her gloves and crawled to his side. He was curled in pain, clutching his chest.

“Mr. Hart!” Shock swept through Madison.

Heart attack. He was having a heart attack. What should she do?

Call 911.

“Help,” she murmured barely able to get the words past her frozen lips.

Mr. Hart convulsed again and that spurred her into action.

“Help!” She turned and shouted across the complex yard where Kevin and his crew were forming another flowerbed.

“Call 911! He's having a heart attack!”

She turned back to Mr. Hart. Her mind scrambled to find a way to help. An infomercial flashed through her thoughts. “Cough, Mr. Hart. Try to cough. I think it helps.”

But the pain was too great, too sudden. All he could do was clutch his chest.

Madison reached for him, wishing she could do something. He grasped her hand and tried to turn his head to see her. She lifted him gently onto her lap. He wanted to speak, but couldn't.

Tell Vivian he loves her.

“Oh, no Andrew,” she whispered as hot tears flowed down her cheeks and onto their muddy, clasped hands. “Please, no. Not yet.”

Tell her.

The finality of the words surrounded her, filled her with certainty. His death would not be stopped. She felt it, knew it. A small sob escaped her, and she nodded. “I'll tell her. I promise, I'll tell her.”

Her words eased his pain. He released his chest, looked at a spot just above her shoulder and smiled. Then his eyes closed.

 

 

 

 

2

 

Lance Dalton parked in front of the large two-story, Victorian home the Heart's Haven folks called “the big house” and unfolded his long length out of his car. Humidity washed over him with a heavy, almost oppressive wave and made his skin tingle. His gaze fixed on the house. He stretched the long drive out of his cramped muscles, and tried to shake away the unpleasant prickling sensation.

Strange. Heart's Haven looked as it had on his last visit. Nothing seemed different. But it was. In the flash of an instant, everything at Heart's Haven had changed. Andrew Hart, the core of the community, was gone and Lance's sister, Vivian, was burying her second husband.

Heart's Haven's essence, its lifeblood, had drained away. At the very least, Lance thought the house should reflect the change, should look like a washed-out version of itself.

He knew Vivian would be different. Andrew Hart had been the love of her life. She would fade and change now that he was gone. Lance knew, because after thirty years of marriage, he'd lost his own precious Gwen and had become a shadow of his former self. That's why, as soon as he got the call about Andrew, he'd packed a bag and driven over eight hours to be with his sister. She would need him now, need all the help she could get.

He slammed the car door shut and took the large porch steps two at a time. The front door was locked…for the first time in his memory. He had to knock a second time before he heard light footsteps coming down the hall. He expected to see Vivian's grief-stricken face as the door swung wide.

Instead, he tensed instantly upon seeing Madison Harper. Hackles rose all over his body. “Oh, it's you.” He was too surprised to force a polite tone into his voice.

“Lance, I'm so glad you're here.”

“I doubt very much that you're glad to see
me
, Madison. We have too much history and too many years of bad blood for either of us to be ‘glad' to see the other.”

Her lips tightened into a thin line but she said nothing, just held the door wide and gestured him into the hall.

“You must have driven straight through. I know you must be tired, but it's so good you're here. We need you.”

We? Vivian had told him that Madison had moved to Heart's Haven and they had grown close again. But somehow, that fact hadn't registered. He couldn't believe his sister had actually let the little barracuda back into her life. Vivian said Madison had changed, become more like her old self, but he hadn't believed that, either.

Her straight hair curved around her face but was shorter at the back. She was slender, but not overly so. In fact, she'd put on weight since her Dallas days. She'd always been too thin, almost anorexic. She looked good now, better than a woman of her age…or temperament, had a right to look.

His late wife, Gwen, had borne three children, was a grandmother, and proud of it. She wore their amazing life together in the shape of her body, and it had always been beautiful to him.

“I want to help, Lance, but I'm afraid I'm not much use.” Madison seemed oblivious to Lance's circumspect inspection. “Andrew was so important…to me, to all of us.”

Lance was surprised to see moisture glass her eyes as she turned away. But he wondered about the sincerity of those tears. After all, this was the woman who ten years ago pretended to be Vivian's best friend and assistant so she could systematically steal all of Viv's clients.

“Everyone's having such a difficult time. We need someone with a level head to keep us on track. There's so much to decide about the funeral…” Madison's voice faded away.

“And, of course, I know all about that.” He hadn't meant the words to come out so sharp, but at least they had the effect of finally silencing Madison. She stared at him, the tracks of tears still on her cheeks.