Carnations in January (12 page)

Perhaps she'd change her mind? Then again, she probably wouldn't. He'd left it too late. So afraid of asking, he'd lost his one and only chance. So instead, he'd put all his feelings for her into this house, even if she'd never get to see it completed or live there.

~*~

Grace stood out the back, double checking the orders before Mandy delivered them. She really needed to organize a van before she left; they couldn't use her car once she'd gone.

Joel appeared beside her. “Hi. Mandy said it was OK to come through.”

Grace managed a smile. “Sure it is. What can I do for you?”

“Elliott says you're leaving.” His words were blunt, his tone as icy as his gaze.

She stiffened. “I suppose the whole town knows, does it?”

“Actually, he only told me because I asked him if he'd asked you out yet.”

The sheets of paper fell from her hands to the bench. Grace looked at him, her jaw falling open. Surely, he was having her on or she'd misheard him. “What?”

“He came over here to ask you out.”

“But I thought…” She pushed her hand through her hair, stunned, unable to focus her frozen mind. “Sunday he said I destroyed things. Just like every woman. And he wasn't going to let it happen to him. He's avoided me all week…”

“Actually, he's been working eighteen hours a day on your house. He hasn't even stopped for lunch. And when he isn't working, he's praying for you and agonizing over how he feels.”

“How
he
feels? He made that pretty clear the other day.”

Joel shook his head and his foot tapped with what was apparent impatience. “You don't get it. He's never allowed himself to feel his emotions. Not since…not for years. He doesn't like the out of control way he feels right now and he's scared. He's frightened of letting go and terrified of getting hurt. Not that he'll admit it. And you hurt him without even trying.”

“I didn't know.” She looked down. “I—”

Joel spun on his heel. “Perhaps you should take a long hard look at yourself and the effect your actions have on others.”

“Me?” she spluttered.

He paused in the doorway. “Yes, you. The past couple of weeks, El's changed. He's come alive, well, part of him has, and there was nothing—” He broke off. “Forget it.”

Grace watched him go, rivers of shock running through her. What had she done? The comments had come from him, not her, but it just served to prove her right. Her nickname shouldn't be Amazing Grace.

It should be Grace, destroyer of lives.

She headed outside and sat on the bench in the snow, gazing over at the house. She wished again that Aunt Tilja were here. She'd have known what to do. She did before.

Sitting there in the bitter cold, the whole sorry mess unfolded in her mind, the same way it happened the first time.

~*~

She fled the university hall of residence in tears, caught a train south, and ended up at Aunt Tilja's. Falling into her aunt's arms, the tears had started again, until the whole sorry story poured from her.

“I thought he loved me, but all he wanted was…was…”

Aunt Tilja handed her the box of tissues. “Why did you give in?”

“Everyone else was doing it,” Grace sobbed. “I thought…he said he was a Christian, too, and it would prove I loved him.”

“That isn't how Christians behave and you know it.”

“I guess so.” She shook, cheeks burning at the memory. “He took photos, sent them to everyone. I can't go back. I'm never going to get involved with anyone again. I'll stay single. Like you.”

“I had a young man once. He broke my heart when he ran off with my best friend. But my mother warned me it wouldn't work anyway, because we were unevenly yoked. Only someone who believes what you do, can really be your soul mate, and understand.”

“But he said he was.” Grace shook her head. “If that's how Christians act, then I don't want to be one anymore. Or have anything to do with them and church.”

“Does that include me?” Aunt Tilja's face fell.

Grace shook her head. “No. I love you. I always will. But I can't go back.”

“Then don't. Do something else. Do what you've always done when things get tough—run away.”

She scowled, tears forgotten. “I don't run away. It was Hope who left, not me. I'm still here, not that anyone cares about that.” She paused. “You know what they're calling me, right?”

“And if it was some other girl in your situation, would you do the same thing?”

Her cheeks burned. “I'd hope not.”

“Grace, sweetheart, I know it hurts. But you can't let them see that, or let this boy ruin your life. Go back and finish your course—you've only got nine months or so left. Act like you don't care, even when you do. They will stop the teasing if it has no effect.” Aunt Tilja hugged her. “I promise, it'll all blow over.”

~*~

Grace shivered and rubbed the snow off her arms. She'd gone back to university, but her former boyfriend hadn't been there. Rumors abounded as to his whereabouts. He'd been arrested for assault, for having indecent photos on his phone, for distributing the images, or his parents had simply withdrawn him. She never found out the reason and honestly didn't care. Without him around, the talk about her died down.

The incident was never mentioned again. Grace threw herself into her studies and graduated with a first class honors degree. Her ability to enter into a relationship vanished. Along with any like or respect for men, the church, and Christians. But sitting there in the snow, watching the way the roads and paths vanished, she knew she wasn't totally blameless. It had taken two, she'd agreed, she knew what she was doing.

Did she know now? Was she running away and not facing up to things? What did she want?

Elliott. She wanted a relationship with Elliott. But she'd blown that one.

He'd want nothing to do with her now, and even less when he knew the truth. He'd never consider being unevenly yoked. But going back to church wasn't something she could do for him. She knew enough to know that any kind of faith had to be made for the right reasons and the only way to work that out would be to go to church and listen to what the preacher had to say.

She sucked in a deep breath and pushed upright. Brushing the snow from her clothes, she headed back inside.

Mandy grinned at her. “Hey, it's a snowwoman. You OK?”

“Just cold. I was thinking.” Grace tilted her head. “Are either of you any good with HTML?”

“We both are,” Shana said. “Why?”

“Then what say you both to a little overtime tonight? We could go upstairs, order pizza and work on the website. Me and HTML don't get along so good.”

“I thought you were leaving.”

“Only cowards run away.” Grace looked at them. “And I'm tired of being a coward. This is a new start, and I intend to stick it out, come what may.” And that included running from God. Never did Jonah any good.

“Good,” Mandy said. “And let's face it, can't get any worse, can it?”

Shana elbowed her. “Don't say that, just in case.”

Mandy laughed. “Anyway, it's a bit cold in the new shirts. So if you close before summer it's a waste of money.”

Grace winked. “Then it's a good job I got hoodies as well. They came this morning. I have them upstairs.”

The girls grinned. “Really?”

“And as it's almost five,” she continued, “let's close up. You can try them on, and we'll order dinner.”

Half an hour later, pizza ordered and on the way, Grace watched in awe as Mandy and Shana, both still wearing the new hoodies, made short work of the website.

She'd struggled to do one page in a week, and the girls did five pages in twenty minutes. Maybe she just delegated this as well.

Blue lights flashed through the curtains.

Mandy rose and peeked outside. “There's an ambulance over the road, and a police car. Can't see what's going on, though, it's too dark. Pizza's here, though.”

Grace stood. “I'll go and get it.” She ran downstairs to the shop front and paid for the pizza. There was an awful lot of activity across the road, but it was hard to make out what was happening. She decided it was either the old lady in forty-one or the pregnant lady in forty-seven. Closing the door against the cold, she headed back upstairs.

~*~

Almost tempted to ask Elliott for a lift to church the following morning, she didn't. This was something she had to do for herself. His words from the sermon last week, had been needling her all night long, along with what Aunt Tilja had told her. She didn't need religion, she needed Jesus, and the only place she could think of to find Him was in Elliott's church.

She climbed into her car and drove at a snail's pace along the snowy roads. She parked and walked around to the church, managing to lose her footing five times. The bloke on the door seemed familiar. Perhaps she'd seen him at the funeral or around town somewhere.

He smiled at her as he shook her hand. “Hi. Grace, isn't it?”

The fact he knew her name when she didn't know his, made Grace tilt her head. “Yeah, it is.”

“Liam Page, it's good to see you here this morning.” The Irish accent was the clincher. He'd been in the shop a couple of days previously and bought roses for his wife.

“Thank you.”

Someone else handed her a service sheet and she slid into a seat at the back. That way she could see Elliott when he arrived, but wouldn't have to speak to him. She shook her head.
You're so acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, Gracie. Time to grow up.

The service started without either Elliott or Joel arriving. No matter. She knew the first hymn, but not the second or third. She tried to concentrate, but the prayers flowed over her, until the Pastor mentioned Elliott's name. She jerked her head up, stunned, as he continued. Elliott was seriously injured and in hospital following an accident at work? But he worked on her house.

She sat bolt upright, wanting more information, but not getting any more. Her house looked fine.

Was the ambulance last night for him? Why hadn't anyone come and told her?

Grace didn't move, riveted to her seat as the sermon began. Pastor Carson Armitage, according to the sheet, the same bloke who'd taken Aunt Tilja's service, seemed to be speaking directly to her, although she hoped he wasn't.

She sat after the last hymn, her mind still struggling with what he'd said. Was there hope, even for her? Even after the way she'd behaved—let's face it, she'd broken at least eight of the commandments.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She glanced up, but there was no one there. The church around her was almost empty. How long had she sat here? She peeked at her watch. Almost one! She should go.

Joel slid into the pew in front of her. “Hey, figured you could do with this.” He held out a coffee and plate of food. “There's a fellowship lunch in the hall, but we left you to pray or think for a while.”

“Thanks.” She took the offered items and sipped the coffee. “They said Elliott was in the hospital. Is he badly hurt? What happened?”

“I'm on my way there. He hasn't woken yet, so yeah, it's pretty serious. He fell somehow, hit his head. But before you ask to visit, everybody at the church has been going down there—”

Grace almost dropped the cup. She set it down firmly, astounded. She wasn't going to ask if she could go and visit him, but she knew all too well what he meant. She wasn't a member of the exclusive ‘Christian club' so she didn't count. “Nothing changes,” she whispered. “I guess I'm wrong, the sermon was wrong after all. You're all the same.”

“What do you mean?” Joel asked.

She pushed up. “You Christians are all the same—self-righteous, holier than thou, self-justifying snobs. And to think I ever thought I could be one or wanted to be one.” She ran from the church, tears obscuring her vision.

“Grace, wait…”

Footsteps ran after her, but she ignored them. She'd never fit in. She didn't want to. If heaven was full of people like that, then she didn't want to go. Her feet slid from under her as she dashed along the icy, snow covered pavement.

Joel caught her arm, saving her from falling. “Grace, if you'd just let me finish what I was saying.”

She shook her head. “It's fine. You're right. I'm not a church member. Not likely to be either.” She tugged her arm free and headed towards where she'd left the car.

11

Elliott pushed back against the pillows and looked at his brother. He wasn't sure he'd heard right. “After you said that, she said what?”

Joel looked uncomfortable and shifted on the chair beside the bed. “I was trying to tell her it was relatives only and all—I don't know why I was even talking to her anyway. It was her house you were working on when this happened. You could have died.”

“Pfft!” he snorted. “I wasn't near death, and the accident was certainly not because of her. It was a stupid schoolboy error on my part. I knocked my head on the beam and fell off the ladder, and broke my leg.”

“You were working on her house. You were unconscious for thirty-six hours. I was scared stiff.”

“Still doesn't make it her fault. And she needs to know that as much as you do.” He touched Joel's arm, unable to stay mad at his twin for long. “And I know you were worried. That's the first thing I remember feeling when I woke—I was scared. I didn't mean to frighten you, but it could have happened if I was fixing the church roof. Would you have blamed God then?”

“No.” Joel squeezed his hand. “Sorry.”

“Do me a favor and bring Grace in to see me since I can have visitors now.“

“And if she won't come?”