Redeeming Grace. Emma Miller
but it made her feel good that Johanna had asked for help. It made Grace feel warm inside to welcome someone into the house. For a few minutes she could almost convince herself that she had always been one of them.
“Look at you,” he said, making a show of staring at her. “Dress and apron, prayer cap.”
Grace’s throat clenched. Was he making fun of her? “Hannah gave them to me,” she said. It came out a whisper.
John saw that his teasing had upset her. “I think you look fine,” he said with another warm smile. “More than fine. I think you look...”
“Plain?” Hannah said, coming to his rescue.
“I was going to say pretty,” he answered. “And Plain. Nice. The blue brings out the blue in your eyes.”
Now everyone was staring at her. Woodenly, she walked to the stove and reached for the coffeepot.
“Watch it!” John warned, lunging across the room and throwing out a hand to block her arm. “You need a hot mitt. You don’t want to burn yourself.”
Grace yanked her arm back almost as fast as she would have if she had been burned. For a second, their gazes met, and she saw the real concern in John’s eyes. Then she took a step back. “Sorry,” she managed. “I didn’t think.”
“Ne,” Susanna said. “You don’t want to get a burn. Becca did. Becca burned herself on the stove. She got the blister. Mam had to put medicine on it.”
John found a hot mitt and handed it to Grace.
“Thank you,” she said. “That was dumb of me.”
“Not dumb,” he answered in a deep, rich voice. “We all make silly mistakes.” He opened a cupboard door, removed a mug and held it out to her. She forced her hands not to tremble as she filled the cup nearly to the brim. “Thank you, Grace Yoder,” he said.
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