Saving Grace: A Novel (Healing Ruby Book 3)

  Saving Grace

  A Novel

  Jennifer H. Westall

  Book 3 in the Healing Ruby series

  Copyright © 2016 by Jennifer H. Westall.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Jennifer H. Westall

  http://www.jenniferhwestall.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Layout ©2014 BookDesignTemplates.com

  Saving Grace/ Jennifer H. Westall. -- 1st ed.

  ISBN 978-0-9976627-0-2

  Be sure to begin with the first volume in the Healing Ruby series. Just tap the cover to get your copy!

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Author’s Note

  Recommended Reading

  More Titles

  Acknowledgements

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  To my son, Brody,

  because he’s just that awesome

  Rejoice not over me, O my enemy;

  when I fall, I shall rise;

  when I sit in darkness,

  the Lord will be a light to me

  ―Micah 7:8

  Prologue

  Ruby

  January 1937

  To be honest, I didn’t give much thought to choosing a name for myself. In fact, during those first days and nights rattling around on the Southern Pacific’s Sunset Line, I’d have to say I spent most of the time in a daze. My head still pounded from my most recent concussion, and my stomach swam each time the train took a curve. First Alabama, then Mississippi slid past the dirty window. I hardly noticed much of anything until Henry and I reached New Orleans a couple of nights after beginning our long journey to California. It hit me then that I was in one of the exotic cities I’d dreamed of visiting since I was a little girl.

  But running for your life puts a different perspective on dreams.

  We’d put nearly two whole states between me and Alabama’s electric chair, and still it didn’t seem far enough. I didn’t dare suggest we spend even one night in New Orleans as Henry handed over our tickets to be inspected for what had to be the twentieth time. As the steward moved away from us, I rested my head on Henry’s shoulder. His muscles relaxed beneath my cheek.

  “I’m so sorry, Rubes,” he said, lowering his voice. “I wish I could afford one of them sleeping cars. You must be exhausted.”

  I gave his arm a little squeeze. “I’ll be all right.”

  “I promise once we get a good ways through Texas, we’ll stop and sleep a night or two.”

  Lifting my head, I met his tired eyes, and I thought of Mother. My half-brother, James, had my daddy’s eyes, just like I did. Dark, fierce eyes. But Henry, always the one to be different, had the same eyes as Mother. Gentle, hazel warmth that glinted with mischief. Only now they were weary, sagging with days of unrest and worry. I wished I could change things.

  “I brought something for ya,” Henry said. I sat up as he pulled up his bag from beneath his seat. “I figured on waiting to show ya, but now seems like as good a time as any.”

  I waited for him to dig to the bottom of the bag, gasping when he pulled out Daddy’s Bible. “Henry…how did you get this?” Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision.

  “Mother was all right with me having it since you were…well, since she thought you were gone. I knew it meant a lot to you, so I packed it up.” He smiled at me like he was right proud of himself. “I was able to get some other things for ya when Mother wasn’t looking. Your brush and a few of your clothes. And this.”

  He showed me the bag, and I tugged on the white fabric inside. I pulled it out, treasuring the softness against my hands and the tiny, beautiful red roses. “My dress,” I managed to whisper.

  “I figured you wouldn’t want to leave that one behind.”

  I couldn’t help but remember the smile on Daddy’s face when I’d opened his Christmas gift to me so many years ago. I hadn’t realized it would be the last Christmas we’d spend together. By the time it was warm enough for me to wear the dress, it had been for his funeral. My chest grew heavy with the memories.

  “Henry,” I said, “maybe there’s another way.”

  He laid his head back against the chair and let out a sigh. “Rubes, we done been over this a million times. This is the only way you don’t end up dead.”

  “But, if I explain everything—”

  “To who? The sheriff? The judge? And what’re you gonna tell ’em?”

  “The truth. That I had no idea what Roy and the others were going to do. That—”

  He dropped his chin and eyed me. “You know that ain’t the truth that’s gonna free you. That truth is long gone.”

  I placed the dress back in the bag and turned my gaze toward the window, knowing full well I couldn’t tell the whole truth. Even Henry still didn’t know everything. Besides, that would mean putting Matthew at the center of a whole heap of trouble, and I just couldn’t bear the thought of him going to jail too.

  “Seems to me that’s what got you in this mess to begin with,” he said. “The time for truth-telling is passed. Now we just have to make the best of a bad situation. Everyone thinks you drowned in that spring. No one’s hunting you. This is our best chance.”

  Once again we’d arrived at the same conclusion. Fleeing across the country. Starting over. Burying my identity along with my secrets. It was a strange sensation to be dead to everyone I knew. There was an exhilarating freedom in it that left me wracked with guilt. How could I let Matthew believe I was dead? Henry and I had gone round and round about it. Tell Matthew. Don’t tell Matthew. In the end I couldn’t bring myself to put his future in jeopardy. I loved him too much to condemn him to, at best, a life of lies and hiding. He deserved so much better than that.

  As the train rocked and rattled beneath me for another sleepless night, and another long day, I couldn’t stop thinking of everyone I’d left behind. Would they ever forgive me if they knew the truth? Was there a way to ease their pain without risking too much? What kind of life could possibly lie ahead?

  Daddy and Mother had done it. They’d abandoned everyone they knew and started over in a new town, burying their own heartache and secrets when they’d buried Grace. Daddy had lost his wife. Mother had lost her best friend. And James, just a baby, never even knew his real mother.

  I wondered, had Daddy f
elt like this? Wracked with guilt and shame for running away. Like, just when he’d been put to the test, he’d failed. Like I’d failed. I knew deep inside myself, that by going on the run I wasn’t just leaving behind my home and my family, I was also leaving my faith. Because when it came down to it, if I truly believed all I claimed to believe, I’d face execution with peace in my heart, like Daniel before the lions.

  But I had no peace. All I had inside of me was fear. Fear for Henry. Fear for Matthew. Fear of what more could possibly happen. And now, all I had left in the world was Henry.

  I was still pondering all this the next evening when I dragged my tired body off the train in some tiny Texas town in the middle of the desert. I followed Henry across a dusty road toward a hotel, the wind whipping my dress around my legs. It was all I could do to keep my feet moving. I didn’t even bother to take notice of the name of the hotel. I thought it might have started with an “H.” The Holland, maybe.

  An older man in a faded cowboy hat greeted us at the front desk. I let Henry take care of all the arrangements, keeping my head down. My heart thudded when the cowboy asked for our names. I glanced up to see him holding a pen over a large ledger.

  “That’ll be one dollar for the night. Can I have your names please?”

  Henry shot me a nervous glance. “Ah, Graves. Henry Graves. And this is my cousin—”

  “Grace,” I blurted out. “Grace…” I needed a last name. “Miller.”

  Henry raised an eyebrow at me, but he didn’t show any other sign of surprise. He handed over the money, picked up our bags, and nodded his head toward the stairs. “Well, come on, Grace. Let’s get some sleep.”

  Chapter One

  Matthew

  November 20, 1941

  My first glimpse of paradise came after nearly three weeks at sea. I’d boarded the SS President Coolidge, a converted luxury liner, in San Francisco surrounded by cold drizzle and uncertainty. Rumors were rampant, and I figured we were headed for the Philippines, but once we’d left Hawaii, there’d been no doubt as to our destination. Tension between the U.S. and Japan was escalating by the day, and I was only a small drop in the sea of soldiers being funneled to the Pacific Islands.

  All morning I’d watched the land draw closer, smelled the sweet aroma of coconut mixed with salty air. As the ship cut a path through the Straits of San Bernardino, I joined Doug Watson and Hank “Cam” Cameron on the port rail. Doug and I had been together for over a year, working with the Corps of Engineers on a couple of different dams in the southwest. We’d known with the rising unease around the world, it was only a matter of time before we were sent overseas. I’d expected somewhere in Europe, but it was clear when our unit was told to report to San Francisco that we were headed somewhere in the Pacific. We’d met Cam on the ship. He was barely five feet seven, but he talked like he was eight feet tall. He’d nearly gotten himself into a couple of scuffles early on, and Doug had come to his defense. Cam had latched onto us for the rest of the voyage.

  I’d been anxious over heading out to sea at first. For nearly five years I’d maintained an infrequent correspondence with Henry Graves, and last I’d heard from him, he was flying P-40s in the Philippines. I’d spent those years putting as much distance between Cullman, Alabama and me as I possibly could. The thought of running into Henry, however remote, gave me pause. It had taken everything I had, all the discipline the Army could teach me, to train my mind to let go of Ruby. It had taken so long to accept she was really gone. Sometimes, if I closed my eyes for a moment, it felt like she was still right next to me.

  Now, as we passed countless islands dense with palm leaves, white beaches, and coves full of bobbing fishermen, I could do nothing but think of Ruby. She would’ve loved this. Adventure. Exotic lands. I pictured her lying on the grassy slope of my parents’ home as I’d sulked beside her in my wheelchair. She’d poured out her dreams of adventure to Mary and me nearly every day when we were kids. That seemed like a different lifetime now.

  “What did I tell you, boys?” Doug spread his massive arms out toward the islands slipping past. “Ever seen anything like it?”

  “Still would’ve rather stayed in Hawaii myself,” Cam said. “That’s where all the action’s gonna be. The Japs ain’t gonna care about some islands in the middle of nowhere. Bet they try to hit Pearl Harbor first. Man, I’d love to go head to head with a Zero.”

  Another soldier to Cam’s right dropped his head back and laughed. “Oh, please! The Japs can’t even make planes that can fly high enough for you to worry about. And besides, I hear they can’t hardly see through those slanted eyes of theirs.”

  Cam’s chest bowed out. “Them Japs ain’t got enough guts to attack us. Besides, we’d kick ’em back to kingdom come in less than two weeks.”

  I exchanged a look with Doug, who rolled his eyes. We’d debated the Japanese position during the three-week voyage, more out of boredom than conviction. I was fairly certain, as was every other soldier who jumped into the conversation, that the Japanese might have the desire to attack us, but knew better than to provoke the U. S. into war. Doug had other ideas, but I chalked it up to a boyish fascination with battle.

  “Well, it’s definitely the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” I said. “Middle of nowhere works just fine for me.”

  We continued to chew on the rumors and possibilities of the future over the next few hours as we headed north across the Philippine Sea. The sun hung low in the sky by the time we entered Manila Bay. To our left lay dense jungle and mountains. A sergeant, who looked like he’d seen many more years of service than any of us, nodded toward a tadpole-shaped island jutting out of the water to our right. Along the beach I could make out several twelve-inch guns pointed toward the mouth of the bay. “That there’s Corregidor. The Rock. Guarantee you there ain’t no ships getting under them guns.” He pulled his cigar out of his mouth and pointed to the opposite shore where the jungle spread up and over the mountains. “And that there’s Bataan. Definitely don’t want to get stationed in that mess. Malaria will get you long before any Japs.”

  I knew it would still be several hours before the ship docked, so I decided to head below deck to get a little sleep. “I’ll catch you boys later.”

  I made my way down to the bunks spread throughout the lower decks and found the group where Doug and I slept. Squeezing into the lowest bunk, I grabbed a notebook and pen. I’d been avoiding writing this letter for nearly a month, but now that I’d arrived safely, I knew it was only right to let Mary know where I was. I pulled her latest letter from the back of the notebook and read over it again so I could address her questions.

  Dear Matthew,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I’m sending it to the last known address I have for you in the hopes it will reach you in time. It’s been nearly two years since I’ve heard from you, despite the several letters I’ve sent. I can only pray you’ve been able to bury all the anger of the past, and that you’ve found happiness wherever you are.

  Unfortunately, Mother’s health has continued to deteriorate, and Dr. Fisher says it’s just a matter of time before we lose her. Andrew and I have moved into the house with her and Father, which makes caring for her easier. Rebecca loves toddling around the huge rooms, listening to her voice echo. Ellis chases her around while I tend to Mother. You really should see her, Matthew. She could use an uncle who can relate to her rebellious spirit. I’m expecting another baby in February, so of course, I’m exhausted. But we’re happy most of the time, and I think having Rebecca here is good for Mother, even though she sometimes mixes up our names.

  Mother’s asking for you nearly every day. Won’t you come see her before it’s too late? I know you’re determined to pretend Father doesn’t exist, but does that mean the rest of us have to suffer as well? I miss you so much. Please tell me there’s hope for us to be a family again.

  Your loving sister,

  Mary

  I felt as awful reading it the second time as I had the f
irst. I hated hurting Mother and Mary, but I was just as determined now as I was when I left that I’d never go home again. The intensity of my anger and pain may have dulled over the years, but not my resolve. Not when Father had practically ensured Ruby’s conviction and death sentence. Still, it was only right to let Mary know where I was and that I was all right. So I put pen to paper.

  Dearest Mary,

  I do miss you and Mother deeply, and I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you both. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me. Although I can’t return home, I can tell you that I am doing well. The Army has sent me to the Pacific, where I will be working on runways and construction. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, maybe a couple of years. Please don’t worry about me. Just know that I’m well. Pay no attention to the rumors of war. We are far from danger here. I’m sorry I won’t make it home to see Mother. Tell her I love her, and give her a kiss for me. I know that isn’t nearly enough, but it’s the best I can do for now. Take care of my precious niece. I received your pictures, and she looks exactly like her beautiful mother. I’m sure I’ll see her someday. I pray your new baby will be healthy and beautiful as well.

  Your Loving Brother,

  Matthew

  I debated on writing a letter to Henry to let him know I’d arrived in the Philippines. A small voice in the corner of my mind whispered thoughts of healing and redemption, that bringing me here was part of God’s plan. But for what purpose I couldn’t imagine. Henry would want to meet, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. I had appreciated his company so much, even leaned on him, in the days following Ruby’s death. And I’d written to him at first, as he’d asked. But letting go of Ruby and moving on with my life had meant drifting apart from Henry as well. Our letters had grown less frequent, and I didn’t even know if he was still stationed on the islands.