Redeeming Grace

Rebecca giggled.

“Come back to the table, you two, before breakfast turns to ice,” Hannah called. “You say both calves were heifers, John?”

He gave Grace a warm grin before turning back to the table. “Pretty calves, both of them. Big. A little tired, but they were both on their feet and nursing when I left the barn. Clarence is lucky. They’ll make a fine addition to his dairy herd if he decides not to sell them.”

“Late in the year for calves,” Irwin said between mouthfuls of pancake.

“Or early.” John took a chair. “Clarence didn’t intend for her to calve in November. He said Reuben’s bull broke down the fence between their farms and got into his pasture.”

Grace was grateful that the conversation had turned to animals and away from her. She’d heard lots of talk about livestock around the rodeo, and she’d grown used to it. It was clear that John was dedicated to his work. He didn’t seem the least put out that he’d had to miss a night’s sleep in one of his client’s barns. Even on such a cold night.

“I saw your lights as I was on the way home,” he was saying. “I hoped that if I threw myself on your mercy, you’d feed me. Yesterday morning, Uncle Albert insisted on making oatmeal from scratch. It was awful, as thick and gummy as paste. He thought it was wonderful, and there was no way I could get away from the table without eating a bowl the size of my head.”

Susanna giggled. “The size of my head,” she echoed.

“I can’t imagine what it would be this morning for breakfast,” John continued, glancing across the table at Grace and smiling with his eyes. “I was just hoping it wouldn’t be more oatmeal.”

“Ya,” Irwin agreed. “Probably so.”

“That or his French toast,” John replied. “And he always burns that. Says charcoal is good for the digestion.” Everyone, including Grace and John and the children, laughed at that.

“It must be hard for the three of you,” Hannah said. “Three men with no woman to cook for you.”

“It’s a heavy burden, I can tell you.” John grinned again. “I’d do the cooking, but the truth is, mine is worse than Uncle Albert’s.”

As the meal continued, Grace tried to convince herself that John was just a friend who had stopped by unexpectedly, that she had no reason to think he was paying special attention to her. She tried to eat, but even the coffee seemed to have no taste at all. She forced herself to concentrate on finishing the single pancake she’d put on her plate before John had arrived.

“Another reason for stopping by, besides starvation,” John went on. “The young man who cleans our kennels hasn’t come in to work for three days. He didn’t even call to let us know he had quit. We’re desperate for help. I was wondering if Irwin might like to come by after school for a few hours and maybe half a day on Saturdays? What do you think, Irwin?”

“Me?” He looked up. “I don’t know, John. Are they big dogs?”

“You like dogs,” John said. “Look how good you are with Jeremiah. You’d be cleaning cages, doing some grooming, helping with—”

“Don’t know.” Irwin stared at his plate and pushed a piece of pancake into a pool of syrup. “I’ve got chores...and homework. Saturdays I’m pretty busy here on the farm.”

“Nine dollars an hour to start,” John said. “And I could arrange for you to have a ride to the clinic. You wouldn’t have to—”

“I could do it,” Grace interrupted.

Everyone looked at her.

She took a deep breath. “I used to work in a big kennel. I’m good with dogs. And...and I need a job.”

John looked surprised. “It’s hard work, Grace. Dirty work.”

She looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m not afraid of hard work. And I know dogs. I like them and they like me.” She glanced at Hannah. Unable to read her face, she looked back at John. “If you’ll give me a chance, I promise you won’t regret it.”

Chapter Five

“I’d have to talk to Uncle Albert,” John said. “But...I don’t think he cares who is hired, just so he and Sue aren’t doing the cleaning. She’s our new vet. Dr. Susan Noble. Just joined the practice in the spring. She’s the one who helped us get our small-animal business running.”

A lump the size of her coffee cup knotted in Grace’s throat, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. This was a job she could do. Please, God, she prayed silently. Help me convince them that I’m the right person. If it’s Your will, she added hastily.

She knew all too well that she’d often prayed for things that hadn’t come true—from praying that Joe would recover from his terrible accident, all the way to praying that her old Plymouth would make it to her destination. God didn’t always answer prayers, but she believed that He had His own good reasons. And it didn’t keep her from praying.

“I...I’d do a good job. I know I would,” Grace heard herself say.

John glanced at Hannah. “Is that something that your bishop would approve of?”

“Cleaning the cages? Is that what you need?” Hannah turned to Irwin. “You’re sure it isn’t something you’d like to consider?”

Irwin scooped up a forkful of pancake and jammed it in his mouth. “Got homework,” he muttered. “Don’t like strange dogs.”

“Ya, we all know how dedicated you are to your education,” Hannah said without the hint of a smile. Rebecca twittered and Johanna hid her amusement behind her coffee cup.

Susanna had no qualms about speaking her mind. “Ne,” she said. “Irwin hates school. He doesn’t do his homework unless Mam makes him.”

Irwin washed the last of his breakfast down with milk, mumbled an excuse and fled, grabbing his coat and hat as he went out the door. Jeremiah scrambled after him, hot on his master’s heels.

Hannah chuckled. “I think we can safely say that Irwin doesn’t want the job, John. Maybe you should consider Grace’s offer. I see no reason, because she’d be working for you and your grandfather and Albert, that Bishop Atlee should disapprove. Charley’s sister Mary still cleans house for you, doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” John replied.

“You’ll give me a chance?” Grace asked eagerly. “I have kennel experience. My foster mother bred all kinds of dogs and sold the puppies. I cleaned cages, fed and groomed dogs, delivered puppies and did basic medical care for five years.”

“How many dogs did she have?” John asked.

Grace shrugged. “It depended. Sometimes more than a hundred.” She met his gaze. “I suppose it was a puppy mill, but Mrs. Klinger took good care of her dogs. She had a vet that came out to the house regularly. She fed her dogs well, and their cages were always clean and dry.” I should know, she thought. I spent enough hours on my hands and knees scrubbing them.

“Five years.” Hannah was watching Grace. Making her self-conscious. “How old were you?”

Grace lowered her gaze to her cup of coffee, then looked up again. “Twelve when I went to live with Mrs. Klinger.”

There were three other foster mothers and a group home before Mrs. Klinger, in the year after her mother died. After that, Sunny Acres Kennel didn’t seem so bad. Grace had had to work hard seven days a week, but as long as she kept up with her chores, behaved herself in church and didn’t fight with the other foster kids, Mrs. Klinger was nice enough to her.

At least she’d gotten to stay in the same school longer than she ever had before. It wasn’t like when she lived with Trudie. With her mother, she missed a lot of school. Once, when Grace was eight, she’d gotten off the school bus to find their trailer empty and all their stuff gone. She’d sat on the step crying until long after dark before her mother came back for her.

“It sounds as if you have the experience we need,” John said.

Maybe more experience than I care to share or you’d want to hear about, Grace thought as she clasped her hands together under the table where no one would see. Her stomach clenched. She didn’t like deceiving good people, but if they knew her for what she really was, they’d show her and Dakota the door.

John nodded. “Let me see what Uncle Albert thinks while Hannah checks with Bishop Atlee.”

It was all Grace could do to not let out a sigh of relief that no one had asked why she’d ended her stint at Sunny Acres at age sixteen. What would they think of her if they knew she’d run away from the foster home? She’d had her reasons, good reasons, but quitting high school and living on her own hadn’t been easy. Many a night she’d slept in someone’s barn or went to sleep hungry. She’d never stolen anything and she’d never begged. Somehow, with God’s help, she’d survived. And she’d never quit going to church wherever and whenever she could. Somehow, sitting in the back of a church, no matter which denomination, had helped to fill the emptiness inside her.