Chapter Nineteen

Aenti Tess sat behind the driving lines holding firm to her usual brooding silence from Elli’s house to Cullen’s. Grace wasn’t sure who tore at her heart more at the moment. Cullen Graber, who lost the woman he loved tragically, or her aenti. Something happened at Betty’s house today. Something everyone understood but her. She wasn’t part of the sisterly group, yet. Aenti Tess carried wounds, wounds that were not so well buried. But what those wounds were, Grace hadn’t a clue.

The horse pulled into Cullen’s yard, heavy dark smoke rising out of the blacksmith shop and traveling in a long train down the valley. The scents of heat and damp and iron landed in Grace’s nose, but they didn’t disturb her. She was no longer strangely affected by it and welcomed the smells her neighbor’s trade carried.

Cullen stepped out into the open, gloves high on his thick arms and a heavy apron stretching to his knees. Her breath caught. He was more handsome than the last time she laid eyes on him. She exhaled, putting aside the thought only triggered by knowing more about him than she should have. How could a Gott who made such a man treat him so unkindly?

He eyed her peculiarly and she couldn’t rein in a timid smile. Now who pitied whom? She had ignored him, thrown him out of her haus, snuck around his, and was smiling at him like he was her best friend. Stupid.

“You forgot to deliver the sewing machine we spoke of.” Aenti Tess never beat around the bush, and Grace was for once glad of it. After knowing so much about him now, private things, she couldn’t disguise the pity that flowed through her. She had never been one to hide well the thoughts of her heart. Cullen saw it, too. The way his chin lifted and his forehead crinkled, he was reading it all over her face. After a long pause, he diverted his attention to Tess.

“I have never ignored a request from you before.” His brow rose in correction and his gravelly voice did as well. “I set it under the window so you could use the light.” His eyes shifted downward, giving a slight nod. How thoughtful, Grace thought. Cullen always thought of everything. Her heart beamed at knowing how carefully he’d considered the sewing machine’s placement so she didn’t have to move it.

“I waited until you both left for your quilting to take it to her sinner’s, um, shack,” he quickly corrected. Grace’s breath hitched. “I am glad someone will have use of it. Mamm would have wanted that.”

Grace didn’t miss the nod Tess threw at him. It carried the weight of complete respect.

“Danke, it is much appreciated,” Grace muttered.

“Just being neighborly.” He grinned, and Grace couldn’t help but grin back.

…

After her aenti left, Grace took out the bag of material Betty gifted her and arranged it on the table. Betty had given her more than enough to make what was needed for the boppli and Grace considered using the rest for a quilt. After today, she was in the mood for trying her hand at quilting again. Her sisters would be tickled to know such. Charity often fussed over her loose stitches.

Thinking of her sister, Grace remembered the letters from home she’d tucked away when Cullen arrived that day. So much had happened she almost forgot she had them. Grace went to the drawer to retrieve them.

Grace tore the letter open. Part nervous to see what Charity had written, part excited her sister hadn’t forgotten her in this place, and part afraid.

Gracie,

All here is the same as yesterday and the day before. With the exception that Michael finally asked Daed’s permission to marry me. Yes, I am to be married come spring and hope you and my new niece or nephew will be here to celebrate it with us.

Grace’s heart leaped with joy. Charity deserved a man like Michael, a life beyond the home they grew up in. But how was Grace going to endure living under the family roof without her? Charity was the only daughter Ben Miller dared to reason with.

Michael says you are welcome to stay here, too. The house is small, but until you get your bearings, we will make do. It would be best for you to do this, I feel.

A subtle hint that Daed was still sore at her and may never offer the forgiveness Aenti Tess referred to. Grace felt her sinuses tingle.

Mother misses you in the kitchen, though she would never say so. Mercy has shown little interest in filling your shoes. Baking is not her talent at all. Faith is courting Alan Hamel and I feel she will be marrying shortly after I. I worry her heart is less in Alan’s than in leaving home, but I cannot say a thing to her on my thoughts without a fuss on the topic. I guess she can quilt in peace if she marries Alan. At least they will never be cold.

Two of her sisters were to marry. A sting of good old fashioned jealousy washed over her. Grace would never have that joy, putting the cart before the horse as she had done.

Charity’s offer was sweet, and living with her and Michael would be better than living under Daed’s firm hand again, but that wouldn’t be fair to Charity. What newly wedded couple wanted to be saddled with a mother and child? Charity hadn’t made mistakes; she never faltered or swayed in her faith. She deserved a life all her own. Grace wiped her face with her sleeve and continued reading.

Hope still sings like always but has to do so in the barn milking now, not the gardens she loves. You know how she can get stuck indoors too long. We had snow finally and Michael took me sleighing with others. It was wonderful.

I have prayed daily for you and how you are doing alone in that place with Aenti Tess. She was so harsh when we were kinner. Is she still? We heard you lived in a charming little cabin in the woods near her and she wrote Daed and said you fit in well with the community there. I hope they love you as we sisters do. I know it is the last thing you want to think of right now, but keep an open mind. Sometimes a new place can be scary but it also can be a blessing. Meeting new people, making new friends.

That was true for the most part. Freeman might have turned out not to be what Grace expected, but the women, the community, had been kind. No one darted her disapproving looks. No one spoke of her sin freely and aloud. Yes, Walnut Ridge was a blessing in a time when she felt she didn’t deserve one.

With all that being said, I have enclosed a second letter. I have lost much sleep deciding if I should burn it or see it delivered to you. I then realized my selfishness for your heart was wrong. Please don’t be angry with me for sending this. It was only my intent to do the right thing, and under the circumstances, I did not know what that was.

Love, your always faithful sister,

Charity.

Grace reached into the envelope and fished out the second letter. What could be written inside that would cause Charity to wrestle with giving it to her? Grace took a deep breath and unfolded the paper. As she read each messy handwritten word, Grace realized nothing had prepared her for this. “No!” Grace cried out.

The crack of the fire matched that of her heart from the inside. How could a few simple sentences have such a damning effect? Her fingers loosened their hold and each letter floated to the floor.

Emotions scattering, she slowly crumbled to the floor. Had she not prayed for weeks to receive such word? Grace sobbed uncontrollably.

…

He shouldn’t be here, Cullen told himself, but he had to make sure Grace didn’t need the heavy sewing machine moved someplace else. Lifting his hand, he formed half a fist to knock on the door. Sounds of crying seeped from the inside and met his ears. His brow furrowed. She was crying again and just after Tess had left. He knocked softly the first time, but Grace didn’t come to the door. A second, more firm knock had the same results.

“Grace,” Cullen called out. The weeping stopped, faint movement stirred on the other side just before the latch he was just contemplating breaking lifted, and the door slowly creaked open.

Large blue eyes, rimmed in red looked up at him. Cullen felt his heart clobber him straight in the chest. The woman was going to be the death of him. Was it healthy for her child that she felt heartache, loneliness, despair? He hadn’t a clue, but that troubled him, too.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried out and took a step back. Cullen stepped inside not minding the snowy prints he was tracking through the cabin. If she would stop crying, he would take whatever raking she had to give him for the mess.

“Don’t apologize for crying,” Cullen quickly said. She didn’t appear hurt—not on the outside anyway—and he studied the scene around her. On the floor were letters strewn about, he determined they had brought her to this low point. Grace’s crying was spawned by words from home perhaps, and for the first time since she had arrived at Walnut Ridge, Cullen saw her for the completely broken thing she truly must be.

“Grace, talk to me,” he said, slow and calm. He was tempted to pull her into his arms, offer her a safe place until nothing made her sad, but that would be too bold. Wiping her sleeve across her face, he could see her hands were trembling. It was a hurt he wasn’t sure how to fix. If she knew what a failure he was at helping damsels in distress, she wouldn’t look at him this way.

Guilt, misery, fear…each took a turn dancing across her delicate features. Even so, she was beautiful. Last time, he helped her forget the things that tugged at her. Cullen hadn’t even known he possessed such abilities. Practice made perfect, Daed always said. He could help eradicate all those crestfallen looks for good if he tried harder. He really did like that smile of hers.

His heart tugged and pulled, his chest burned with the workout. Grace had no idea she was awakening pains he didn’t want to feel again. He had failed Marty, waited too long to make a difference in her life. His protective nature took hold, shoving a regretful past into a dusty corner, and Cullen hoped now that his timing had improved.

He lifted an arm, offering a safe place, and Grace lowered her head into the bend of it and continued the crying he had walked in on. “Ach, Grace,” he said, his other arm following his first as he pulled her into a safe hold of security. How could he help her? “You are not alone, my Grace. Cry if you must. I will not leave until you want me to.”

Her small frame melted into him and raised his awareness of just how much he had come to care for her. He held her gently, but she held him firmly, her fingers twisting into his coat so tightly, his flesh pinched into it. Was that what she needed? Cullen was made for just that. He was something strong and safe and present.

Grace needed him, and suddenly Cullen realized he needed her, too. But she would be leaving. Suddenly, he realized that sorrow was the mood for the day.

Cullen’s shelter was a warm quilt on a cold night, and she buried herself in him. Her breaths shattered as her options opened wider into view. Her child deserved a father, but would Jared fulfill his promise to join the Amish community? Could she count on him? It was the right thing, after so many wrong ones, but whatever she had once thought she felt for Jared had disappeared into the shadows of the man he truly was.

Cullen patted her back, small gentle taps like those meant for a child. There was no place safer, no place better for her to be than where she was right now.

Cradling her in his arms, Cullen found a refuge for himself and selfishly remained still, relishing how good it felt. It wasn’t the mere connection with another; it was something more. He wanted to make things easier for her, help her through all this pain and guilt she was carrying. But Grace had become a healing balm to him, after years of drought and solitude. She made him want more. She made him feel.

Who was he kidding? Her presence brought forth a stirring he had long hidden deep inside. It was her, he knew. How could he let go now?

“Danke, Cullen. I am sorry you had to see that. But if you didn’t make such a habit of showing up at the worst of times…” Clearly she wanted to thank him for being there but was embarrassed he had seen her struggling.

He understood. Was she also trying to make light of what was shared between them, or had she felt nothing at all? He stepped back, offered her a hand. “I think you have fallen far enough. Now, it is time for us to get up, face the day.”

Her lips curved into a smile that said she knew exactly what he was saying. Grace needed to look up, move forward, and let yesterday be nothing more than a memory. What she didn’t know, when she took his hand, was that they were both climbing out of a low point and rising anew.

It was time to heed his own advice.

“Letters from home,” she whispered. Cullen gathered the scattered mess. His eyes froze on the name at the bottom of the top one. Grace didn’t snatch the paper from his hands, so he continued to read.

“This is from him, jah?” Could the man even be called such?

“Jah, he is going to be on leave from the military. It is the life he chose over us.” Her voice cracked as she ran a trembling hand over her middle. “You must think I am childish to cry over such a person.”

That was the last thing Cullen thought. Grace had been let down so many times, he feared this letter might be the light she deserved, that her child was deserving of. They both knew heartbreak, only the one he’d loved hadn’t walked away. Marty died saving the only person who tried to keep them apart.

Handing over the letters, he thought she looked fragile, worn, and brittle. Not the fearless defender of her home he knew her to be. Stepping away before he took her into his arms again, he opened the front door, putting space between them.

“Nee. I would never think you childish, Gracie. I wish I could say something to make easy the hurt that letter has brought you.” Or help you forget it ever arrived, he wished to say.

She raised her head and smiled at him, as if seeing him clearly for the first time—the real him, not the unpolished smithy neighbor over the hill.

“Was ya holding out he would return for ya?” he asked. He had to know her answer, and with bated breath waited for it. Imagining anyone else holding her, comforting her, sent a wave of anger through his core.

“In my heart he was no more. I do not know how to explain this hurt I feel now inside of me. Things are different. I am different. He wants to see me, talk with me after all this time ignoring me. Ignoring us.”

Grace seemed to fight back the urge to cry again and straightened, brushing her hands over her apron. He wondered what her heart did feel for this man who had left her. He wondered what her heart felt about him. She shivered and he closed the door again—a fool for letting the outside in. Another thing he figured to remedy. The outside world had taken enough of her, and if she allowed him, Cullen would slam shut the doors, lock all the windows, and keep it at bay.

“I feared my boppli would never know the love of a daed. A daed to teach love and play games and wipe away young tears.” She started crying again. “Now I fear…” Her words fell short, unfinished, and she cupped her face in her hands. Was it possible Grace feared welcoming this man back into her life?

“Don’t fear anything. Gott’s will. We may not see His plan, or understand it, but if we remain faithful, we will. Trust Him.”

“Gott did not bring me here. I brought me here. He had no part in this,” she said firmly, wiping away a few lingering tears. Cullen couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “You find my shame amusing?”

“Nee. I find you amusing, my dear. I’m afraid, Grace Miller, you aren’t that powerful. Sin or not, Gott is in control.” As soon as the words left his lips, Cullen believed them himself. Bad things happen, mistakes happen, but Gott was always in control, and He alone had brought Grace to Walnut Ridge. He alone had seen to it that she be given the support she deserved.

“My wrong path forced my father’s hand. It sent Jared running away. Gott did not do that.”

“Nee, He did not. But you are not responsible for the actions of others. Just your own. Gott’s grace covers Kentucky just as it does Indiana. You should find forgiveness in your heart, then you will be ready to face whatever this is,” he pointed toward the letters.

“I have forgiven,” she said sharply.

“But have you forgiven yourself?” Something flickered in her sapphire blue gaze. An awakening so apparent he knew she had not. “And do you even need others’ forgiveness?”

Grace stepped back. “I don’t understand. Of course I need forgiveness. I’m a sinner,” she said, a little too loudly.

“Are we not all sinners? Did Jesus not die for our sins? Isn’t His forgiveness all you need?” She thought about that for a moment.

“Why have you not been like others? You do not point fingers at this.” She touched her middle.

“It is better to help with the whole hand than simply point the finger.” A hint of humor colored his words.

“Elli says that, too.” She grinned, looking up at him. She had an amazing smile, even when she wasn’t trying.

“She is a wise woman and never points fingers.” When Grace huffed a little laugh, his heart opened wide enough to welcome her in. How would he keep these feelings contained? How would he accept Grace leaving, or worse, leaving with the man who broke her heart? He needed to think. He needed to talk to Gott. Cullen needed a plan. There was no way he could simply let her leave, not without knowing how he felt.

“Do you wish to speak to him?” Cullen ducked his head. He didn’t want to see her reaction to his question.

“A child needs a father. Families are meant to stay complete.”

“That isn’t an answer.” He looked to her now and found her peering up at him, a curious searching in her gaze.

“You will think badly of me if I answer.” Impossible.

“Nee, I won’t,” he encouraged. She let out a sigh.

“What I want doesn’t matter any longer, but no. I don’t ever want to see Jared Castle again.” She would never leave her faith for a man—that’s why Jared’s promise meant so much to her. “I cannot bear to think of my boppli raised outside my Amish faith, or by a man who runs when things get hard.”

When Cullen smiled at her answer, Grace’s heart flipped inside itself. Kinner needed the kind of daed that would love them through mistakes, hold them when they cried, and never, ever abandon them. Cullen Graber was a man who still mourned his first love a decade after losing her. What a great and powerful love they must have had to endure even after the stings of death. He was the kind of man who didn’t run or abandon.