Through His Grace (3 page)

“So she’s their closest relative?”

“No. They were originally placed with their grandfather, but he wasn’t up to raising two children.” Miss Chesterton lowered her voice. “He was too forgetful, if you know what I mean. Jake and Lizzie will be better off with Grace Willard. Why do you ask?”

“I made a promise to Jake that he’d have a chick today,” Nickels explained. “I know how important it is that they have stability.”

“Absolutely,” Miss Chesterton agreed. “But they’ll be getting plenty of that now.”

“Still”—he gave her a cajoling grin—“don’t we need to show them how important it is to keep our word? Is there any way we can avoid letting them down?”
Again
, he tacked on silently.

“Well…they haven’t even had two days to adjust to their new home.” Miss Chesterton was hedging, but she hadn’t said they lived too far away.

“So being denied something they looked forward to will contribute to their upheaval,” Nickels put in.

“I’ll tell you what,” Miss Chesterton said. “I’ll call Grace and ask what she wants to do. It’s her decision, after all, and if you’re kind enough to remember the children—hold on.”

He considered waiting while she disappeared inside the building, but after assuring himself the group home workers had the kids well in hand he followed.

“Hello, Miss Willard,” Miss Chesterton began.

Miss?
Nickels immediately envisioned a prickly old maid with a sharp voice and a well-honed pointing finger, an unpleasant woman who’d thought long and hard about taking in two unwanted orphans before determining she absolutely had to. Meanwhile, Lizzie and Jake had their lives put on hold and knew with each passing day just how unwanted they were.

“Well, I understand you have a lot of changes to make….” Miss Chesterton’s voice stopped him.

Their aunt was apparently denying them a brief moment of joy
and
complaining about how much
her
life was changing?
Lord, forgive me if I’m not following Your will, but I feel I have to step in here. I pray this impulse is You directing me
.

“Hello?” He took the phone from Miss Chesterton’s loose grasp and put it to his ear. “This is Eric Nichols. I don’t think you’re aware of it, but I made a promise to your new wards….”

“Jake especially looked forward to holding the chicks every weekend, and I told him man-to-man…”

Grace hunched her shoulder to keep the phone by her ear as the man’s warm, deep voice explained about promises and stability and baby birds. She bent down to untangle Jake’s shoelaces.

“So you want me to bring Jake and Lizzie back to the group home right now?” She mentally rescheduled an already full day. Jake and Lizzie needed so many things. A distressed squeak from the corner let Grace know Lizzie was behind her and had assumed the worst from her last statement. “Can you hold for a minute?”

She dropped the phone on the bed and scooped Jake in her arms, motioning for Lizzie to join them. “A Mr. Nichols wants to know if you want to stop by the group home to see the chicks. It’s up to you guys.”

“Chickies!”
Jake bounced up and down, his motion making the waterbed dance, carrying Grace and Lizzie along on the waves of his enthusiasm.

“I—” Lizzie looked torn between wanting to give in to her brother and afraid they’d have to stay at the home again.

Grace waited while Lizzie bit her lip and Jake chorused “Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease—can we?”

“Excuse me!” The muffled, tinny shout from the discarded phone grabbed her attention. She picked it up.

“Actually.” The deep voice, this time with a slight edge after being left hanging for so long, proposed another option. “I need to leave the home and start getting back to the ranch. Miss Chesterton says you live along the way. How ‘bout I just swing by?”

A stranger swinging by? But it was the perfect solution. Jake would see the chicks, and Lizzie wouldn’t be afraid of being left at the home. Miss Chesterton vouched for him…. Reason warred with obligation for a moment before Grace assented and gave the man her address.

“Are we gonna go?” Jake danced anxiously around the room, almost tripping over his newly untangled but still untied shoelaces.

“Mr. Nichols is coming to us so you can see the chicks.” Grace helped Jake tie his shoes and had both kids use the restroom one last time. She tossed some granola bars and hand sanitizer into her purse before ushering the children out the door. She wouldn’t think about letting an unknown, grown man into her home—bearing chicks or not. The front porch swing would work just fine.

“Hi, Mr. Nichols!” Jake put his hands on the porch railing and hopped to get a better look at the tall man stepping out of a truck.

“Hi, Jake, Lizzie.” The rumbling voice matched the tones she’d heard over the phone. The man, clad in worn jeans, scuffed boots, and a green T-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, hit the porch in three easy strides. His tanned skin and sun- bleached hair bespoke a man who spent the bulk of his time in God’s great outdoors. She recognized him as a man she’d spotted a few times at church, but only from afar. He stayed with a fairly centralized group of people Grace didn’t know well, so they hadn’t had much contact. She’d never seen him this close before.

“Nice to meet you.” Grace snapped her attention away from his engaging grin and brown eyes to extend her hand in welcome.

“Pleasure’s all mine.” Instead of shaking it he raised both hands to his chest—close to her eye level. Cupped in his large, work-worn palms sat four little blond balls of fluff. When he nudged her hand, she took the hint to scoop up one of the chicks for herself. She watched with fascination as Mr. Nichols squatted down to let the children each select one of the soft creatures, keeping one for himself.

Jake and Lizzie sat cross-legged on the porch, and since Mr. Nichols did so as well, Grace followed suit. She sat quietly, petting the mound of warm fluff in her hand, watching Jake and Lizzie.

The children cuddled, nuzzled, pet, stroked, and shifted their little friends with ease born of practice. Jake’s face shone as his chick, apparently worn out, snuggled against his chest with closed eyes.

“Sweet, isn’t it?” The low whisper startled her.

“Thank you for coming by,” Grace whispered back as his gaze caught hers. Mr. Nichols had kind eyes and, apparently, the heart to match. She turned her attention to his bird. His chick was nestled atop his handkerchief, its little head peeking out of his T-shirt pocket.

“They like to be near a heartbeat,” he explained, his hand brushing hers as he gently took her chick and tucked it in beside his. “It soothes them.”

His proximity was anything but soothing, Grace thought. She stood up abruptly.

“All right, kids. The chicks seem to be done in, so while Mr. Nichols and I take them back to his truck, you wash your hands.” She traded Lizzie the bottle of sanitizer for the other two chicks.

“Thanks, Mr. Nichols,” the two chorused while the adults walked down the steps.

“Smart move,” he inclined his head toward the children.

“I don’t want them getting sick,” Grace murmured, handing over the chicks.

“Naw. I meant keeping them on the porch.” His wink made her breath hitch. “I’m glad to see you’ve enough sense not to invite strangers into your home.” He stepped nearer, and his voice dropped a few octaves as he pulled a bit of fluff from her hair. “I hope I’m not a stranger anymore.”

“You’re welcome to come again next week, Mr. Nichols.” Grace sucked in a breath before continuing. “I don’t think the kids are ready to go back to the group home, even for a visit. They need to settle in here.”

“Will do.” He walked around to the driver’s side door but paused before getting in. “And, Miss Willard? You can call me Eric.”

Spinster aunt, my boot
. Nickels shook his head as he drove away from Grace Willard’s well-kept home. He couldn’t have been more off base if he’d tried to imagine her exact opposite. She wasn’t sharp, bossy, self-centered, or anything remotely approaching an old maid. No, Miss Willard was none other than the pretty little lady he’d seen around the church. She hadn’t been there in a while—which probably had something to do with how long the kids had been in the group home at Lawton.

He’d noticed her years ago, but she was always chatting with other people or leading little kids around.
I assumed she was married
. He shook his head ruefully.
I should’ve asked Miller or Dylan a long time ago—they are so much further along in their spiritual walks than I am now. Her name is Grace. Nothing could’ve fit her better
.

Even dressed in jeans and a light sweater today, with a few mahogany curls springing loose from her ponytail, she moved with an innate grace he hadn’t seen often. Those hazel eyes of hers had enough colors and facets to captivate a man for hours. The warm honey of her gaze held a stardust spectrum of deeper brown and intriguing green flecks.

Her dainty hands made delicate motions, betraying when she felt flustered.
I made her flustered
. Nickels smiled as he remembered the surprised warmth he knew she’d felt, too, when he brushed her hand with his.

Lord, thank You for correcting my assumptions about this woman
. For years he’d ignored the attraction. At first he wasn’t ready to recognize it. Later he told himself she had to be taken. But no matter how hard he’d tried to bury it, it lay beneath the surface all along.

And I could be wrong now, but maybe I see Your hand in this unexpected introduction. Help me to discern, and help me not to let my assumptions of others replace experiencing the beauty You’ve given them to share
.

Before he had even met her he’d assumed the worst. But the way she watched Lizzie and Jake showed any onlooker how deeply she cared for them both. He thought she’d been complaining about having to “change” things, but when he’d been waiting he’d heard her conversation with the kids. That, along with her whispered confidence that Lizzie wasn’t ready to see the group home again yet, erased his idea that she’d been putting herself first.

Grace reminded him of a mother hen trying to see to the needs of her new brood. Her decisions showed forethought as well as love, and she’d make a good mama. Grace Willard was a woman re-centering her life. Now he’d do his best to make sure she left a spot for him.

Nickels didn’t know what was to come of his interest in the Willard family, but one thing was certain. He’d be sure to show up next Saturday. He grinned at the chicks next to him. Each one now seemed a golden ticket to a sweet new world.

“Are you ready for a day full of shopping?” Grace adjusted her rearview mirror after checking to see that both children were safely belted in the back.

Thank You, Lord, that my car has lap and shoulder belts in the backseat. It’s just one detail that makes a big difference in their safety and my peace of mind
.

“Yeah!” Lizzie couldn’t keep the excitement of a born shopper out of her voice.

“Shopping?” Jake’s tone held an entirely different tone.

“Yeah, Jake!” Lizzie answered before Grace even opened her mouth. “Remember? We’re gonna go see Auntie Grace’s friend, Mary.”

“Okay,” Jake proclaimed his verdict. “But why shopping?”

Because your parents didn’t leave a will, and under Oklahoma law that means nothing passes on to you. Their savings, the house, the cars—all go to the state. Someone else lives in your house now, and you have only a few of your old toys and clothes you’re rapidly outgrowing
. The injustice of it made Grace grip the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She’d wept last night, tears of loss and grief, regret and injustice, doubt and anger…but peace hadn’t come until she’d prayed. Even so, she was still off-kilter by the staggering number of things to be done.

“We’re shopping for you!” She put all the enthusiasm she didn’t feel into her voice. “You’re going to pick out the things for your new room.”

“And I can have a race-car bed?” Jake demanded.

“If we find one,” Grace said evasively. The answer must have satisfied him because he and his sister started talking about what they’d want in their rooms.